It's hard to imagine why this always comes as a shock to me. Every year around this time, my life continues on its merry way till this inexplicable anxiety paints my perspective in a dim light. The same sort of feeling one gets when your future seems amazingly vulnerable; like an expecting father, or someone who just found out they have cancer. It's a nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach that you can't shake till you have rest assurance of what might be coming up ahead.

Today, this is me. My blood pressure is running high; and I'd rather hide under my sheets and fend for my continued existence from an unknown force I can't control. So, whenever this happens, I ask myself what it might be that's freaking me out. Then it dawns on me; it's my seasonal angst kicking in.

Southern California weather is as typically known to be wonderful. This is especially true to Los Angelenos that totally take advantage of frequently temperate and sunny days. I've lived in Southern California all my life, and have grown to love our frequent appearances by the sun. But today, the weather is cold, dark, and rainy. And, it seemed to have happened too suddenly; because, just yesterday it wasn't very chilly and partly cloudy. Most of my friends would probably love it. Especially my friend Alex, who grew up in New Jersey with the four seasons. But, for me, it's threatening.

It could be because a lot of stuff happens at the end of the year. And, this year is no exception: Halloween was yesterday; my birthday is coming next Friday; a very risky election in three days; Thanksgiving around the corner; Christmas and the New Year. Compounded by stuff that's happened to me recently: film festival I was producing with friends; a heart breaking separation with my boyfriend; getting a raise at work and having it be threatened by my fucking up at work; needing to move closer to work and figuring out the economics of that; and the heartening and very good possibility of me continuing my education.

So, a drastic change in weather — in my life — feels ominous. It's like a reminder that your years are moving forward with no return. Certainly, melancholy is apart of this equation.

I decided years ago, when I was a teenager, that this feeling that I knew was coming from an onset of change could only be good. Being a non-practicing Scorpio, I still found solace in the "Death Card". The card was responsible for ushering in the end of things, but also the birth of many new things. The idea that it's in my very nature to be this way has always taken resonance in my life. "Change is equal to change", as Ian Anderson of the Designers Republic puts it; and it is good for growth and maturing. It also means I'll always have the chance to take the lead on my life, never allowing fate exclusivity in my existence.

And so, maybe I should take solace in this idea, and relax a little. Like I told one of my friends today, "I'm like a cat who gets freaked out by sudden environmental change. But, I'll get over it after some weeks. Then I'll be back to normal."

Recently, I discovered Juana Molina and her 2003 album Segundo. It fits in to my current phase of mellow music listening rather perfectly. Here's what a review from Emusic has to say:

“The second album by Argentinean singer Juana Molina calls attention to itself by understatement. Listen to it inattentively, and it's sunny background music, with more than a hint of vintage Latin-American pop (both Brazilian bossa nova and the Uruguayan music Molina has claimed is closer to her heart) — she's got a winsome, breathy voice, and her fingers scarcely brush the strings of her acoustic guitar. But as you pay closer attention to it, it keeps getting weirder, deeper and more beautiful, like the sound of a pond at night surrounded by frogs and bugs.

Actually, there's wildlife all over Segundo — both real and artificial. The album, Molina has said, was recorded mostly as first takes, at a time (1998-1999) when she was living in California; plenty of ambient sounds creep into the recording. "El Perro," in particular, has a lyric about an endlessly yapping dog that can occasionally be heard in its background (Molina treats it as a random percussion element, surrounded by a digital whine that keeps warping away from true pitch and rumbling electronic growls). And for a record that's more or less built around the meditative voice-and-guitar model, Segundo is actually richly layered with quiet but unearthly synthesizer tones and textures. They're subordinate to her calm, liquid singing — "technology must be a servant of music," she has said. In Molina's hands, though, technology is a particularly lithe and devoted servant: on the eight-minute "Mantra del Bicho Feo," she vocalizes wordlessly over squelchy, insectoid synths and rattling drums until all her handiwork fades away, and the only singers left are the birds who've been adding their harmonies since the beginning of the song.”

A bit more upbeat, and a bit more dancy. It's still the way I like it. Michna and the new album Magic Monday is rather awesome, also. Fun to listen all the way through, too. With little audio snippits of New York, and a one way conversation with one guy in particular. You could picture roaming around Michna's native Brooklyn. Here's what an emusic review says:

“A former Diplo collaborator and one-time Jandek remixer — about as unlikely a resume you will ever find — the young Michna is the newest DJ in the Ghostly International roster, and immediately its least serious and most fun. Across Magic Monday, Michna gets coy and playful, composing pieces that fans of Gotan Project and their ilk would absolutely dig. The moody "Bumper Car Masters" and the opening pairing of "Triple Chrome Dipped" and "Swiss Glide" stand out in a big way. Recommended.”

Fun days! Click on the album art to take a listen