Over a year ago, when I still actually LIVED in Pittsburgh, I fell in love with a little unknown artist named Rosi Golan who's stuff was featured on television every now and then.
It should be known that during particularly rough times in my life (which according to this blog, is like, always? Geez, Ash, GET SOME HAPPY PILLS) Beth and Kelley and myself would send one another her lyrics through email while making fun of the rat faced punks we worked with and discussing how difficult it was to go to the bathroom while in our place of business (You know what I mean...if you're a lady AT ALL, you know what I mean).
I didn't intend for my post about Rosi Golan to involve poop, looking back on it. No...that's not where I wanted it to go.
I wanted it to go to this song and to tell dear Rosi how much she saved my life last year and that I'm sorry it's taken me this long to blog about her. And how much I wish she would sell her music in piano books so that I could learn it. But I also want to take up harmonica lessons as well...decisions, decisions.
1 comment:
swoon. i believe you sent me this cd with a card that read:
"1. butt in 'jammas
2. glass of red
3. butt on couch
Hazy will change your life".
Rosi will save us all my dear :)
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