Okay, hombres. I don’t know about you, but: Jagged Little Pill was my first CD, ever. Words cannot capture the joy of locking myself in my room, popping that little fucker into my player (littered with glowy stickers and yin yangs) and listen to her whiney pretty’s from beginning to end.

Peoples, I felt understood. Didn’t you? My inner monologue: dude: She knows. She KNOWS.

But: flash forward, some 10 years later: last night, a pimpass SUV pulled through my neighborhood – blasting- and I do mean Le BLASTING – Jagged Little Pill’s Secret Song. You remember. Last track – you had to wait two minutes of dead air before the melacholy began.

Lyrics are:

I went to your house
Walked up the stairs
I opened your door without ringing a bell
I walked down the hall
Into your room
Where I could smell you

And I
Shouldn’t be here
Without Permission
Shouldn’t be here
Would you forgive me love
If I danced in your shower
Would you forgive me love
If I laid in your bed
Would you forgive me love
If I stay all afternoon oh…

I took off my clothes
Put on your robe
Went through your drawers and I found your cologne
Went down to the den
Found your CD’s
And I played your Johnny

And I
Shouldn’t stay long
You might be home soon
I Shouldn’t stay long
Would you forgive me love
If I danced in your shower
Would you forgive me love
If I laid in your bed
Would you forgive me love
If I stay all afternoon oh…

I burned your incense
I ran a bath
I noticed a letter that sat on your desk
It said hello love
I love you so love
Meet me at midnight
And no
It wasn’t my writing
I better go soon
It wasn’t my writing

So forgive me love
If I cry in your shower
So forgive me love
For the salt in your bed
So forgive me love
If I cry all afternoon oh…

Oh, Oh Oh. People, when I used to listen to this song, it was TRAGIC. Imagining what is like to find some love letter, to cry in showers, to put on said man robes – tragic. Granted, I had no idea who ‘Johnny’ was or what it REALLY meant – yet – to love or loose – these words made me cry.

But last night, this song felt nostalgic – but dead. In retrospect? What the F is she whining about, anywhoo?

Tragedy, ‘Tragedy.’ There’s genocide in Darfur. Perspective, people. Take two minutes to cry in the shower, lay in your bed, and oh Oh Oh and whatnot – then boot strap it up, I think.

As for Alanis, her and her new haircut:

have been frequenting the likes of Sex and the City and Curb your Own Enthusiasm: (making out with Sara foot face J Parker, and sharing tepid secrets with Larry David) and avoiding this dude:

Like the plague.