Death Cab For Cutie and Me

YAY! I finally found a band to wax nostalgic about (thanks to Chelsea's most recent posts' title)! I was getting pretty antsy trying to come up with a new band to write about, despite the fact that I have hundreds that I love, I want to be selective and save the bigger stories for later though. In case you haven't noticed the theme in these "________ and Me" posts, they are largely based on teenagehood feelings. I have zero musical training, I only know what I like, so these posts aren't really about analyzing instruments or musical construction. It's about the feelings certain bands or even specific songs evoke. Because that's what music is about isn't it? I was also heavily inspired when I started this segment by this. Anyway, without further adieu-



I'm not entirely sure how I came across Death Cab For Cutie. I just sort of picked them up like one smells a persons perfume after they've left the checkout line. I know I bought the album at the shop I would later buy the Shin's albums and I distinctly remember the day. I was coming home from summer school (I'm not that great at math but I know that high school crushes in the same class+an overall dislike of intermediate algebra= summer school), stopping off downtown at the transit center. Instead of transferring to the next bus I decided to browse around downtown instead, despite the 115 degree heat.
I didn't know what exactly I was looking for in the record store that day, which is always a good sign. The things you come across when you're never looking for them are usually the best. But after about 20 minutes I walked out with my newest obsession.

I locked the c.d. into my walkman (I don't think I had an i-pod until the middle of my senior year) and if there was ever a song that I'd put on a "Who I Am" mix it was the track that greeted me that moment.

So entranced by this new audio gold was I that I dismissed the next bus and decided I'd walk home. I wanted alone time with my headphones. Half an hour later I looked down at my hands and realized they had begun getting puffy. I was bright red, dizzy and ready to pass out. Turns out my own mode of transportation was the fast track to heat stroke. By the time I got home I was freaking out. I stripped off all my clothes, sprawled out on my bed, administered cold washcloths on my body and called my parents at work thinking I was going to die.
The reason I tell this story when I describe DCFC is because they got me through suffering, be it physical or mental, brought on by life or my very own design.

And that was only my Junior year.

If you are new to this blog or if you've been reading for a bit and wonder why I mention my Senior year of high school, it's because it was one of the most pivotal years of my life. Not since the months leading up to having Jack have I ever been more challenged, battled and dealt with more emotions or questioned who I was more than that time. I haven't even really had the courage to separate the events and write them out, even if just for the therapy of it. Perhaps I should put it into bullet points so I can save time-

*First "real" realtionship/love.

*Parent's divorce.

*Tumultuous relationship with an addict father (which I could devote quite a few blogs to, and will).

*Unresolved feelings of depression which resulted in years of poor coping mechanisms including 3+ years of cutting and other self-destructive behaviors.

All of this combined left me little time or knowledge of what it took to be "normal". And so, not wanting to burden those around me, not wanting to be "the damaged girlfriend", I turned to music as an escape. When I was alone with my headphones on I was safe. I had my own little haven and it was portable. I could find sanctuary in the back of a bus, on a walk, in the library.

Death Cab was probably the most calm of everything that I listened to. It was the warm blanket I needed. There in times of grief and even romance.

And now, even after things evened out, after all has passed they still remain. Bittersweet and beautiful.