Dear Rilo Kiley,

What am I, 18?

First I got all teary-eyed when you played...

Sometimes in the morning I am petrified and can't move
Awake but cannot open my eyes
And the weight is crushing down on my lungs
I know I can't breathe
And hope someone will save me this time
And your mother's still calling you insane and high
Swearing it's different this time
And you tell her to give in to the demons that possess her
And that god never blessed her insides
Then you hang up the phone and feel badly for upsetting things
And crawl back into bed to dream of a time
When your heart was open wide and you love things just because
Like the sick and dying

And sometimes when you're on
You're really f*cking on
And your friends they sing along
And they love you
But the lows are so extreme
That the good seems f*cking cheap
And it teases you for weeks in its absence
But you'll fight and you'll make it through
You'll fake it if you have to
And you'll show up for work with a smile
And you'll be better
You'll be smarter
More grown up and a better daughter or son
And a real good friend
And you'll be awake
You'll be alert
You'll be positive though it hurts
And you'll laugh and embrace all of your friends
And you'll be a real good listener
You'll be honest
You'll be brave
You'll be handsome and you'll be beautiful
You'll be happy...

and then you were like

And it's bad news
Baby I'm bad news
I'm just bad news, bad news, bad news

etc. etc. and I was like, ohmigod. And THEN you played

I'm a modern girl but I fold in half so easily
when I put myself in the picture of success
I could learn world trade
or try to map the ocean...

They say California is a recipe for a black hole
and I say I've got my best shoes on
I'm ready to go (ready to go)
ready to go...

and I just about melted.

I'm a fan for life.

(Or at least until my emotional maturity catches up with my age.)