J, Ruminations

J: An Open Letter to Lauv

Dear Lauv,

First of all, I wanted to say I’m sorry.

I’m sorry that when I stumbled into Emo’s after Day 1 of Austin City Limits, and you were on stage playing A Different Way and looking beautiful as always, I halfheartedly yelled “DOES ANYONE KNOW WHO THIS IS??” while shimmying my way up to the bar to buy a vodka soda. Which I then promptly spilled on myself.

In fact, I didn’t even realize it was you performing* until between songs in your set, when you got all up on the mic and said “Hello everyone, my name is Lauv.” Except you said it in a pretty boujee way like “Mai naym ees LAAAAUUUUV” which kind of annoyed me. In retrospect, you may have said this in a totally normal way and I was just absolutely wasted. There’s really no way to know.

*Which tbh is ridiculous considering how many times I listened to The Other post-breakup with Chicago Boyfriend this summer because I am PATHETIC.

I’m sorry about how annoyed I got when you were about to perform “Easy Love” and you were like “This song is about SEX. Everyone go home and have MAKE-UP SEX.” I mean, in the moment I rolled my eyes so far back into my head that I was concerned they would stay there, but it was probably just because the hot 20-year-old I had met at the festival wasn’t texting me back and also because I was running out of vodka. You understand, right?

And finally, I’m sorry that I absolutely butchered the lyrics to “The Other” in my drunken Snapchat story on Sunday night, by captioning a selfie of me frowning with “who put the good in goodbye” rather than “who wrote the book on goodbye.” In my defense, though, have you considered this lyric? It’s pretty fire.

However, Ari (I figure we’re on a first name basis by this point), there are also some things I’m not sorry for.

For instance, I’m not sorry that I often get irrationally angry at you for choosing a stage name that is almost impossible for Alexa to understand. Like, I’m laying in bed trying to get her to play your music for me, and my phone is too far out of my reach to do it manually without moving from my cocoon. That was honestly very rude of you. Please consult with Jeff Bezos to determine a solution at your earliest convenience.

I’m also not sorry that I stayed up until 4 AM after your concert analyzing your song lyrics and reading interviews to try to determine your Myers Briggs type. It’s truly not the weirdest thing I’ve done after taking a lot of adderall, don’t worry. Also, if you could please confirm that you’re an INFP, that would be great.

And, lastly, I’m not sorry that I slid into your DMs on Friday night (mid-MBTI analysis) to let you know that I thought you were amazing and would love to chat with you more about music. Am I sorry that you haven’t responded? Absolutely, especially since you’ve been tweeting up a storm. What, planning a “world tour” is “more important than DMing a random girl back” “especially since her insta is private and you can’t tell if she’s an Instagram thot”? A likely story, Ari. A LIKELY story.

Ari, as a wise woman who is 11 months your senior (77, in dog months), I will happily impart my wisdom about all things – dating, career, superfoods, best chapsticks – on you. All I ask is for a DM back.

Oh, and a 25% cut of your profits wouldn’t hurt either.


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