Since it is Valentine’s Day, I thought it would be appropriate to post a love song tonight. And since people seem to love/hate/ignore/never shut up about the holiday no matter what their current romantic status is, I thought reminding you all how crappy it is to get broken up with. Someone said once (yes I know I could Google it to find out who but time is money, folks) that we reach the universal through the particular.
I don’t know of many songs more particular than this. It’s agonizing. Poor Jewel. When she first debuted I thought: hey that chick with the big boobs can really yodel! Then I listened to her songs more and thought she could really write. Then I noticed her teeth looked like she tried to eat her car keys and I thought she must be talented to overcome such a weird malady. And when I heard this song, I realized that she captured the blown up, sweat pants wearing despondency of being dumped.
No number of inspirational jpgs on Tumblr can make someone who has been broken up with feel better. And no, I don’t mean the justifiable breakups: the ones where one person is super mean or someone cheated or whatever. I mean the rug-pulled-out-from-under-you-oh-jesus-im-dying kind of thing you never see coming. The thing where you have the love of your life in front of you and all of a sudden they just aren’t.
Now, the guy in this song sort of sounds like a jerk. I can’t imagine breaking up with someone because they left the toothpaste cap off. But going over all the things that you remember the other person complaining about sure is one of the things you do when you are dumped. Don’t worry Jewel. You’ll be okay. And not that it is ever going to come up, but the fact that you broke the yolks in the eggs make me love you.
If someone steps to me with runny yolks they will get their elbows broken. I’m not kidding. Even if it is an old lady or a baby. I hate that. Gross.
Anyway, I know Jewel is married to some rodeo guy now but if it ever goes south she will be able to listen to this song and make herself feel better. And if there ever was a guy who actually cared that you didn’t pick up your towels or left the light on I think it is pretty good bet that he is kicking himself in the ass right now. Sticking with you when you were a crooked-tooth yodeler living in a van down by the river would be the romantic equivalent of buying the Declaration of Independence at a yard sale. But he didn’t do it, Jewel. So you just yodel your way to happiness.