It's a big enough umbrella

Today I am going talk about one of those things I like to pretend happens only to me, but, I am, of course, wrong. Sometimes I think that songs are actually following me around: if haven't heard a song for months or years or eons or even ever really, and then I suddenly hear it seven times within a period of three days, I never think it's just a coincedence. While it probably once again only has to do with what you pay attention to, I usually take it as some kind of pseudo-sign, the same way I read my horoscope only on days when I have three stars or more. The worst time was when "The Reaper" by Blue Oyster Cult was following me around. I'd never heard the song before, but I'd downloaded Wilco's version of it, then heard it in Starbucks, then twice in the car on different radio stations. This was especially disturbing when I realized the song was about not being afraid of death, and suddenly had to start taking extra precautions when crossing streets or going hunting with Dick Cheney.

I seem to have digressed a little from what I really wanted to talk about. Oh yes: Sting. Sting and the Police. "Every Little Thing She Does is Magic" is following me around. This does not particularly bother me; I have no shame in admitting that I really like Sting in all his yoga-loving glory. The problem is, I don't know how to interpret this particular sign. Am I magic? Does someone think I'm magic? Do I need to do some appropriate pronoun switching to reflect my gender preference? Must I always be alone?

But here's the part that really bothers me:
"I resolve to call her up a thousand times a day
And ask her if she’ll marry me in some old fashioned way"
Sting, I know, is very extreme in everything he does. Every breath I take, Sting? Really? (This, by the way, was one of the first songs I learned on the piano, though I don't know why.) I do not want to be called a thousand times a day, nor do I want to call someone a thousand times a day: I don't even want someone to want to call me that many times. Also, a phone proposal seems kind of tacky, while Sting doesn't really strike me as the tacky type.

My English teacher senior year told us that Sting was obsessed with Mary Shelley's Frankenstein. She said that many of his songs could be read in way that reflected this obsession, which I think then leaves me in a very strange position. Is this what I should be worried about? People building... people?

Anyway, my friend saw David Hasselhoff getting coffee today.