Even though I was feeling camouflage yesterday, I dig deep to motivate. Venture out to dinner with a friend. Put on the denim mini skirt and platform shoes. Maybe we’d go to the local bar and listen to the band. Stay out late and laugh.

But half-way through dinner, I’m on my second green tea and thinking about my bed at home. It’s only 9:30. My friend, she understands. We drive home eying my gas tank that reads E, while she texts her new boyfriend back home. He’s in another time zone and if we’re honest, all she really wants to do is sweet talk with him into the wee hours. And this, I understand.

Rather well-rested, I wake on a Saturday morning and find Feist. The new album, Metals, comes out in days. What is it about her voice that strikes that clichéd, but-oh-so-true, chord in me?

It’s all that’s feminine, moonlit and deep.  Sweeping feeling and bittersweet. Man. Woman. She made my morning.

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