Carly Rae Jepsen is ruining me.
Let me elaborate.
It isn’t that Ms. Jepsen is actively conspiring against me behind my back. No embarrassing moments at the masquerade ball have been choreographed. No buckets of pigs’ blood have been dumped on my head. No boyfriends have been stolen (for there are none to steal).
Carly Rae Jepsen isn’t plotting to destroy me, but I can’t help but feel as though her music wasn’t designed to tear me down and rebuild me in a peppier image.
In the last year, I’ve been attempting to be more of a grown-up lady. No one is outwardly pressuring me to do this. I mean, sure, my Hello Kitty debit card finally snapped in two and Bank of America replaced it with a sleek, simple red one. That was entirely against my will and it took me a few days to accept it.
That said, I am growing up. I don’t want to wear rompers forever. It’s not that rompers aren’t cute. It’s just that it’s harder to get out of one when you want to go to the bathroom. I’ve started going to the Metropolitan Museum of Art a lot more. Instead of staying out all night making trouble for myself, I’ve been staying in, sipping tea and watching BBC comedies in my pajamas. You feel classier when you fall asleep to the sound of David Mitchell ranting about something. I’ve even started curling my hair to look more, as the cosmopolitan people of the world say, “sophisticated”. In my bumpkin mind, “sophisticated” is a word for “sexy, but also very smart and worthy of calling up again”.
Everything was going well. Everything in my plan to smoothly transition from cute lady child who likes to dance the robot in public to sophisticated lady who likes to dance the robot in private was going according to plan.
And then, Carly Rae Jepsen’s ‘Call Me Maybe’ came into my life.
The first time I listened to this song, I thought, “Meh. It’s cute. She’s charming. Good luck to all involved. I have some Dorothy Parker poems I need to read now.”
Then, I listened to it a second time.
‘Call Me Maybe’ is a song that doesn’t just grow on you–it explodes within you. Now, I thought it was a really fun pop song and I wanted to listen to it again.
I ended up listening to it by watching the “Justin Bieber and Friends” (copyright?) viral music video for it.
First of all, I’m not a particular fan of any of the people in this video. That’s not a personal attack on Bieber, Gomez, Tisdale or their co-horts. They are all talented performers. I just prefer to get my entertainment from the likes of Stephen Fry, Game of Thrones and Parks and Recreation.
I need to make it clear that I have no beef with these people, nor am I their biggest fans, because since seeing this, I have wanted nothing more than to re-enact it with all of my friends. Unfortunately, my friends are too composed for this. So, now I’m just re-enacting it in my bedroom, by myself, all on my onesies, forever alone.
This song has thrown me through a loop. Not a fancy cursive loop on someone’s wedding invitations, but a super silly, super fun, roller coaster loop-de-loop.
Carly Rae Jepsen has torn down all walls of propriety within me. I am no longer a cynical twenty-something. I am a weirdo kid jumping around my room singing, “Before you came into my life, I missed you so bad!” (“I missed you so bad!”)(“I missed you so so bad!”)
I am undone. Carly Rae Jepsen has destroyed me.
At least, Carly Rae Jepsen has destroyed the part of me that was trying too hard to be too perfect all of the time. “Call Me Maybe” has such a persuasive kick to its chorus, that I can’t pretend to be mature, cool or “sophisticated”. I just have to admit that the song is silly and it makes me happy.
A huge part of me didn’t want to write this. I had planned to write elegantly about how much I enjoy my new HBO subscription (It’s great, you guys! I personally think it’s worth the extra $14.95 a month). I didn’t want to jump on the Carly Rae Jepsen internet bandwagon. I’m a unique snowflake, you see? But snowflakes are helpless in the face of a snow plow, and for me that plow is “Call Me Maybe”.
Sophistication is overrated. Sheer goofy happiness isn’t.
Featured image via, believed to be copyright 604 Records