i had my modest mouse phase. every good little indie rocker does. i still enjoy some of their music, but my modest mouse albums got shelved with a number of their cohorts when i realized the following about indie rock:
1. i'm a happy individual, and the "sad-bastard" complaining and pining and oh she left me, oh he hurt me, oh life is meaningless combined with a clever metaphor lost its zeal.
2. boys at indie rock shows are, more often than not, not hotties by my view of what consitutes a hottie. it was skinny, glasses, thrift store pants after lanky, desheveled head, grandpa sweater. i realized that i like a boy with some meat, a boy with fire in the belly - readily available to kick some ass if necessary, a boy who would not blow over if the wind kicked up. examples famous hotties: jack black and that red-headed guy from dazed and confused and good will hunting.