Remember when you were a kid and you mixed a bunch of different flavors of soda together and called it “suicide”? That’s kind of what this week’s new music releases are like. A mish-mash of randomness. I mean we have the lead singer of Bright Eyes, a former American Idol contestant, and an R&B girl sensation. That’s kind of like mixing Coca Cola, Orange Crush, and Dr. Pepper together.

So, your friends might give you strange looks if you play these three albums on shuffle at your next party, but as long as you have an open mind, you should be able to take each album for what it’s worth. And drink it up. Because, despite its name, “suicide” was always a ton of fun. Read More »

In high school, I was more or less obsessed with Bright Eyes. I absolutely adored Conor Oberst and all his whiney, scratchy-voiced angsty music, not to mention his sexy eyes & all-around hot emo boy demeanor.

I was also extremely depressed, dropped out of high school (only for a semester!) and spent three hours a week in intensive outpatient therapy.

However, times have changed and I traded in my razor blades for wine glasses and my sorry, pathetic teenage attitude for a much healthier, positive one. I became happy. Baggage-less, I thought. Completely devoid of any negativity from my past.

And then, as all love stories begin, I met someone who I had absolutely everything in common with and with whom I got along flawlessly for the first six months. I thought I was over my years of self-loathing and teenage drama, and if I could hold a healthy, (somewhat) adult relationship, then I was convinced.

Seriously, this relationship was awesome. We were like male and female versions of each other: We were in the same major (yes, boy magazine journalism major!), loved cheap beer and foosball and basically couldn’t keep our hands off of each other….any time, anywhere.

But, eventually my insecurities came to the surface and the relationship became a huge emotional mess, for both of us. I’m talking the whole screaming at each other in public and then pouring beer on each other to even the score kind of mess. There it was again; all that baggage I thought I tossed years ago, staring me right in the face, mocking what I thought was my new life and new super-happy relationship.

I might be an extreme case (in fact, I know I am), but after the failure of this relationship, that was all lovey-dovey, fairy-tale, red roses on the outside, I began to question, quite Carrie Bradshaw-esque-ly, if we can ever really escape our pasts. Read More »