We go way back...

I really do think that as human beings on this planet we are evolving a little bit every single day. I am not the same person I was yesterday, and I will not be the same person tomorrow that I am today. I am a married woman now and I am a very different person that I was in say, 1999 when I flew to Seattle by myself and heard Death Cab for Cutie for the first time in a little car parked in a lot at SeaTac. I am also a very different person from the girl who snogged a devastatingly handsome and devastatingly famous guitar player and pinched the bums of handsome boys just to be cute.

That said, I am still the sum of all of my experiences and I will never forget what it felt like, sitting in that little grey car, the first time I heard Bend to Squares. I've been a pop tart for as long as I can remember, and 1999 was certainly after I had heard Blur for the first time, Radiohead for the first time, Elliott Smith for the first time. But something about this album (no pun intended) just stopped me dead in my tracks. I think my heart stopped for about a milisecond. It was a transcendent experience.

I flew back to Boston and believed I was the only person on the east coast who had ever heard of this amazing band with the long, funny name. I holed myself up in my dorm room and listened to Something About Airplanes over and over and over and over again. I wrote Death Cab for Cutie a letter, the perfect letter that a silly twenty year old girl writes when she's in love with a band. And I never expected they would read it. But they did. Weeks later, I received a gorgeous reply, typewritten on Barsuk paper. I still get teary when I think about that letter and what receiving it meant to me. The sentiment was gorgeous but so was the honor that Chris Walla generously gave me - their first fan letter ever.

I'd like to think that my letter was part of the reason they came to Boston to play a show that summer. They played upstairs at the middle east, of course, and I went with a few friends. We got there early expecting a big crowd. There were about four people there. I was incredibly nervous - what do you say to someone who has sent you a significant letter? Mind you, this was in 1999 and as hard as it is to believe, email was still taking off. People did a fair share of proper letter writing still. I'm so grateful for that, because I still have this object, this perfect object, to actually hold in my hands. I recognized Chris Walla immediately. Blond thatch of hair, and looking like he needed a couple of hot dinners. It's very difficult for me to articulate what happened after that, but suffice to say, it was all very lovely and perfect.

I've seen Death Cab for Cutie play several times since then, including shows in Seattle. At each, I've been able to see Chris Walla and say a few words to him. The last time this happened was in September of 2004 at the Fleet Center. Death Cab for Cutie was opening for Pearl Jam, for crying out loud, but I was still able to see Chris briefly backstage. I told him, sincerely, that I was so happy for all their success, and that it was all well deserved. He dedicated a song to me, a song from their first album. It was precious, but it felt like a goodbye.

They signed to Atlantic, and their new album is going to be huge. They're appearing on the O.C. One of their songs is being used in ads for Shopgirl. 36 year old men from Iowa list DCFC as one of their favorite bands on Friendster. They have videos on mtv. It's like being on another planet.

I don't own Plans. I don't listen to Transatlanticism. Am I a true fan anymore? If I could talk to Chris Walla today, I'd want to tell him what We Have the Facts and We're Voting Yes means to me. I would tell him that it's the ONLY cd I brought with me when I moved to London. It's the ONLY cd I brought with me when I moved to grad school. I would tell him how I think that Company Calls Epilogue is the most beautiful song ever recorded. How it just slays me every time I listen to it.

I can't relate to Death Cab for Cutie anymore. I don't listen to their new album. I'm so, so pleased for their success. They absolutely deserve it. But I'm not a part of it. And because it was such a big part of my life, I kind of mourn for the person I was when they meant the world to me.

I used to run around this city in knee socks and cardigan sweaters. I used to wear glittery eyeliner and miniskirts. I used to, like the song says, go out on Friday night and come home on Saturday morning. There is nothing remotely scandalous or dangerous or cheeky about my life right now. There's not champagne enough to make me a little bit more Patsy. Not lipgloss enough to make me more Emma Bunton. It's very difficult to accept.