"Pagan Angel in a Borrowed Car" Iron and Wine

Another from the Sub Pop label. The Shepherd's Dog came out in 2007. This is my vibe today. The clouds outside have my vibration at a low level.

My girl is in the middle of her MCAT. I am feeling her nervousness in the pit of my stomach. Feel a bit like crying or throwing up-- or both.

ACCEPTANCE

I still have a few Confessions yet to chronicle. As I start to think back, some new ones cropped up. One or two are significant and I have so much to say I need to narrow it down. Others were a blip on the screen. Still, I remember all of them and how they made me feel. I remember feeling unsexy. I remember being told I was ugly. I remember hearing that I was average. I remember being rejected. I remember being abandoned. It's no wonder women hate themselves when wanting validation from the opposite sex.

I don't know what to do with compliments today. Fortunately, I don't get many.

If someone told me I was beautiful or sexy or desirable I wouldn't believe them anyway. How do unlearn all of those ingrained thoughts and feelings?

This confession was high school again. THE MODEL came around soon after THE SHOWMAN told me I was like raw fish. I was a junior and it was the winter of 85.The MODEL was a transfer student who drove a Volkswagon Beetle, smoked cigarettes and seemed to have some kind of checkered past. He showed up mysteriously and disappeared just as cryptic. He worked for the Helen Wells Modelling Agency in Indy and was tall, with dark straight hair and dark brown eyes. He had more of a bad boy look than a clean cut preppy or rugged muscular vibe. His dad owned a restaurant called Fuddruckers in Castelton and would take me there on dates. I'm pretty sure he had a side hustle selling weed, as he would be gone without explaination and had older friends who lived in apartments in Indy who he hung out with, and always had a wad of cash.

He seemed much older than most juniors, but he had a kind disposition--at least when it came to me.And his smile was dreamy. Ha Dreamy. But it was!

I remember driving in his Beetle--it was cold-- he had the window down because he was smoking and the song Broken Wings by Mister Mister was playing. How's that for a crystalized memory? My 16th birthday was coming up and he was going to take me out-- but he stood me up. Mom had made a pink frosted birthday cake with roses on it. So, I made my wish on that 16th birthday feeling let down.

I don't think he finished out the year at our high school. Maybe he got a big modeling job and moved on, or whatever bad shit he was into got the best of him.