"Ironic" is the first song I remember considering a favorite. I bought the cassette single and memorized the lyrics. Jagged Little Pill was the first CD I owned. After I got the CD, "Perfect" became my favorite on the album -- because I understood it, I guess. I didn't really identify with it, but in that awkward junior high stage, I think I tried to identify with it. You know, the angst and all. And I remember sitting in someone's van at Ashley Wallace's house listening to "You Oughta Know" and looking around to see if anyone was going to drop the eff bomb with Alanis. And I remember being at Ashley Holt's dance party in her garage in Providence, standing in a circle and singing "Hand in My Pocket" and being so proud to be "brave but chicken shit." We were. I liked "Not the Doctor," though I didn't get it. I secretly liked "Forgiven." Secretly, because I thought it was a sacrilege. Tried as I may have, I didn't understand Alanis, but I accepted her.
But some years later, I had an epiphany of sorts. Alanis was satan, embodied in a little black CD. These days, I say I lost my original copy of Jagged Little Pill. The truth is that it lies, in shattered bits, at the bottom of our pond. God, I don't know why I did that. "No fun with no guilt feelings." And I still hadn't made it to listening to "Wake Up" or "Your House." I still didn't understand Alanis.
I'm really thankful for the new Jagged Little Pill Acoustic. I got to give Alanis a second chance. I could skip "Ironic" without listening to it, but when I do, it's nostalgic. "You Oughta Know" and "Hand in My Pocket" are finally more than their "cuss" words. And now, not only do I understand "Forgiven," I know it isn't sacrilegious.
I really just want to apologize to the black shards of my first CD. I shouldn't have done that. But you live, you learn.