...until 2009 is over.
And honestly, it won't be a day too soon.
::sigh::
I had fully intended on launching into one of my year-end-wrap-up posts, in which I was going to list all of the shitty stuff that's happened to/for me this year and match it up to a list of awesome stuff that's happened to/for me this year in an attempt to convince myself that 2009 truly was not the worst year ever (even though I'm wholly convinced that it has been, and there's still 2 weeks to go).
But then I got a phone call from BBE, and instantly felt better again about everything because we're going to hang out this weekend.
So, while I still have time to compile my List Of Reasons Why 2009 Was The Worst Year Ever (Reason #1: I lost my job. Twice. (yes, twice...I'll explain eventually...)), I can start on my other list right now:
People/Places/Things that were Awesome in 2009:
#1: Best Boyfriend Ever.
And that's all that needs to be on the list for now. :)
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Monday, October 26, 2009
It really is fall, huh?
So when did it get to be the end of October already?
Had a great day with BBE today. We went to the Guggenheim to see a Kandinsky exhibit. I learned that I'm not a big fan of Kandinsky. But I got to see a few Picassos and Monets up close, so that was awesome. Next museum on the list is MoMA, which I'm totally stoked about.
One of the best parts of the day ('cause any day with BBE is a good day) was walking back through Central Park along the reservoir running track. The view of the west side was spectacular, and it helped me realize that fall isn't all that bad. Yes, I miss my flip flops and wife beaters, but sweaters and cute boots aren't the worst thing ever. And football helps a lot.
Another short one today...just felt like jotting something down. Laters!
Had a great day with BBE today. We went to the Guggenheim to see a Kandinsky exhibit. I learned that I'm not a big fan of Kandinsky. But I got to see a few Picassos and Monets up close, so that was awesome. Next museum on the list is MoMA, which I'm totally stoked about.
One of the best parts of the day ('cause any day with BBE is a good day) was walking back through Central Park along the reservoir running track. The view of the west side was spectacular, and it helped me realize that fall isn't all that bad. Yes, I miss my flip flops and wife beaters, but sweaters and cute boots aren't the worst thing ever. And football helps a lot.
Another short one today...just felt like jotting something down. Laters!
Sunday, October 11, 2009
::blowing cobwebs off the blog::
Y'all thought I forgot about you, huh?
I haven't. I have been meaning to hop on here and update you all on where I've been and what I'm doing. But alas, I have been way too tired!
So while this post should be much longer than usual in order to accommodate for my absence, I'll have to whip through this with all the bullet points instead.
Ready...go!
-Summer is pretty much over, but that's ok. I have discovered that a fake pair of Uggs will get me through the winter in lieu of my flip-flops. I still don't like this whole sub-70 weather business (especially since we got cheated out of summer weather this year), but I will persevere and carry on. Besides, watching football all day long on Sundays is a lot more fun when you're curled up on the couch with tea and Best Boyfriend Ever as opposed to sweating through preseason without air conditioning.
-Speaking of BBE, all is quite well in that department. More hanging out in the apartment instead of running around the city, mainly because we're so busy with other stuff. Plans are in the works to fix some of that, but it will take time and patience. Fortunately, we have plenty of both, and everything will work out fine.
-So why have I been so busy? Let's try working at the most dysfunctional place on the planet for 40 hours a week and then taking nearly 9 hours of college classes a week at nights. I'm starting to adjust to being at a community college (even making a few connections with people), but it's still tough to deal with 19 and 20 year olds who, quite frankly, don't know shit about shit and are wasting my time. But I carry on. Besides, they make me look like a rock star. :)
-How dysfunctional is my new workplace? Screwed up enough that it has earned (in my grand tradition of code-naming my workplaces) the epic name of PharmaFail. Honestly. BBE has been a great sport with hearing my near-nightly updates on just how messed up that place is.
-The Epic Music Project ended about a month ago. Now I still don't have anything to listen to in my car with the exception of the new CD's that I buy (averaging about one per week). I'll be happy to take collections toward the purchase of a satellite radio for the Ramenmobile. Or I'll probably just end up saying "eff-it" and buying one before our Big East Road Trip in November.
-Big East Road Trip? BBE and I are planning to road trip up to Syracuse to see my Scarlet Knights manhandle the Orange in the Carrier Dome. BBE, of course, believes that the fortunes will be reversed. I beg to differ. Either way, Dinosaur Jr. Barbecue will be involved, and that's all that really matters.
So the world keeps turning, I keep punching my time clock, the leaves are changing, and I have new fake Uggs. Oh, and I'm ridiculously busy. Sorry for the annotated version of My Life Since August. Gotta go to bed now, but I'll hopefully post again sooner than later! Peace out, Cub Scout!
I haven't. I have been meaning to hop on here and update you all on where I've been and what I'm doing. But alas, I have been way too tired!
So while this post should be much longer than usual in order to accommodate for my absence, I'll have to whip through this with all the bullet points instead.
Ready...go!
-Summer is pretty much over, but that's ok. I have discovered that a fake pair of Uggs will get me through the winter in lieu of my flip-flops. I still don't like this whole sub-70 weather business (especially since we got cheated out of summer weather this year), but I will persevere and carry on. Besides, watching football all day long on Sundays is a lot more fun when you're curled up on the couch with tea and Best Boyfriend Ever as opposed to sweating through preseason without air conditioning.
-Speaking of BBE, all is quite well in that department. More hanging out in the apartment instead of running around the city, mainly because we're so busy with other stuff. Plans are in the works to fix some of that, but it will take time and patience. Fortunately, we have plenty of both, and everything will work out fine.
-So why have I been so busy? Let's try working at the most dysfunctional place on the planet for 40 hours a week and then taking nearly 9 hours of college classes a week at nights. I'm starting to adjust to being at a community college (even making a few connections with people), but it's still tough to deal with 19 and 20 year olds who, quite frankly, don't know shit about shit and are wasting my time. But I carry on. Besides, they make me look like a rock star. :)
-How dysfunctional is my new workplace? Screwed up enough that it has earned (in my grand tradition of code-naming my workplaces) the epic name of PharmaFail. Honestly. BBE has been a great sport with hearing my near-nightly updates on just how messed up that place is.
-The Epic Music Project ended about a month ago. Now I still don't have anything to listen to in my car with the exception of the new CD's that I buy (averaging about one per week). I'll be happy to take collections toward the purchase of a satellite radio for the Ramenmobile. Or I'll probably just end up saying "eff-it" and buying one before our Big East Road Trip in November.
-Big East Road Trip? BBE and I are planning to road trip up to Syracuse to see my Scarlet Knights manhandle the Orange in the Carrier Dome. BBE, of course, believes that the fortunes will be reversed. I beg to differ. Either way, Dinosaur Jr. Barbecue will be involved, and that's all that really matters.
So the world keeps turning, I keep punching my time clock, the leaves are changing, and I have new fake Uggs. Oh, and I'm ridiculously busy. Sorry for the annotated version of My Life Since August. Gotta go to bed now, but I'll hopefully post again sooner than later! Peace out, Cub Scout!
Monday, August 17, 2009
Oh, those summer nights...
Well, this summer has just been flying by, hasn't it?
It's already the middle of August, we're well into the dog days of summer, football season is right around the corner, and I have been very busy.
Seriously - between a summer class (for my event planning certificate, hopefully by May of next year), a new job (human resources for a pharmaceutical company), getting a jello shot business off the ground (something my sister and I started a year ago), and spending as many weekends as possible with Best Boyfriend Ever (who will be referred to as BBE going forward), Summer '09 has been jam-packed with Adventures in Life.
Talk about a complete (or almost complete) 180 from where I was 6 months ago, also known as my Dark and Twisty Period (with homage and apologies to Shonda Rhimes).
But in the same way that winter can easily leave us feeling cold and bleak and desperate (I mean, seriously, I was talking about the wind whipping outside my window like I was at Wuthering Heights), summer creeps right back into your bones, making you feel happy and hopeful, adventurous and - dare I say it - sexy.
So, yes, things are looking up and slowly turning around and starting to change for the better. I've been around the block enough times by now to know that I shouldn't take anything for granted, but I'm happy and hopeful. Cautiously optimistic, actually. But optimistic nonetheless.
Oh - the Epic Music Project has been rolling along all summer and is actually almost done! I'll update the sidebar with all of my favorites at the end. I'll admit that it hasn't been easy, especially around the M's (I was sooooo not in the mood to listen to Matchbox 20), but I have perservered, and my 4 month journey through my music collection is almost at its end. ::sigh:: Now I'll just have to figure out the best way to listen to music in my office. I'm thinking about a new(ish) iPod courtesy of the interwebs and a nice inexpensive little docking speaker set for it. I'll just make a commitment to load the iPod with newer music (that I will actively seek through Pandora) and that will make my little meat locker office more bearable.
Well, I've been stalling long enough. I need to go get at least one load of laundry done before bed tonight. Laters!
It's already the middle of August, we're well into the dog days of summer, football season is right around the corner, and I have been very busy.
Seriously - between a summer class (for my event planning certificate, hopefully by May of next year), a new job (human resources for a pharmaceutical company), getting a jello shot business off the ground (something my sister and I started a year ago), and spending as many weekends as possible with Best Boyfriend Ever (who will be referred to as BBE going forward), Summer '09 has been jam-packed with Adventures in Life.
Talk about a complete (or almost complete) 180 from where I was 6 months ago, also known as my Dark and Twisty Period (with homage and apologies to Shonda Rhimes).
But in the same way that winter can easily leave us feeling cold and bleak and desperate (I mean, seriously, I was talking about the wind whipping outside my window like I was at Wuthering Heights), summer creeps right back into your bones, making you feel happy and hopeful, adventurous and - dare I say it - sexy.
So, yes, things are looking up and slowly turning around and starting to change for the better. I've been around the block enough times by now to know that I shouldn't take anything for granted, but I'm happy and hopeful. Cautiously optimistic, actually. But optimistic nonetheless.
Oh - the Epic Music Project has been rolling along all summer and is actually almost done! I'll update the sidebar with all of my favorites at the end. I'll admit that it hasn't been easy, especially around the M's (I was sooooo not in the mood to listen to Matchbox 20), but I have perservered, and my 4 month journey through my music collection is almost at its end. ::sigh:: Now I'll just have to figure out the best way to listen to music in my office. I'm thinking about a new(ish) iPod courtesy of the interwebs and a nice inexpensive little docking speaker set for it. I'll just make a commitment to load the iPod with newer music (that I will actively seek through Pandora) and that will make my little meat locker office more bearable.
Well, I've been stalling long enough. I need to go get at least one load of laundry done before bed tonight. Laters!
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Le roi est mort.
Ok, so we're probably all tired of talking about it. This post comes rather late, considering it's been over two weeks since his death, and almost a week after the memorial. But in keeping with my obsession of all things pop culture, it wouldn't be right to not address this here. So you're allowed to roll your eyes and sigh and say, "enough already," but I'm going to say what I need to say so I can move on.
Where was I when I heard the news?
I was sitting on the couch in the family room with my dad, clutching my cell phone, anxiously waiting for more news. 45 minutes before that moment, I had returned a phone call from my sister. She asked me to check the news to find out if Michael Jackson was really dead. My reaction was, of course, that it was a rumor run rampant and out of control. He wasn't dead. Heart attack maybe, but dead, no. My Google search confirmed my instincts. TMZ was wrong and I was right. He had suffered cardiac arrest, but he was in the hospital. He was going to be ok.
The next call was to my boyfriend. Had he heard the news? He had. But it was going to be ok.
Next stop, Facebook. Some people were blindly following TMZ, perpetuating the death rumor. I, instead, held on to hope. My status message: God, I don't normally ask for favors, but if you could help MJ pull through, I'd appreciate it. We don't need to lose any more people, stars or otherwise, this week. Thanks.
Downstairs to the family room. The report on the news was that Michael was in a deep coma. Not good. But not dead. Text to my sister: NBC 4 just reported that MJ is in a coma. Keep hope alive. Only TMZ is saying he's gone.
Two minutes later, the special report music broke into a commercial break. The instant I heard it and saw the screen, I felt my stomach drop. I didn't need Brian Williams to tell me what I knew at that very moment:
Michael Jackson was gone.
There are so many people out there who wonder why there has been such an outpouring of grief for Michael. He was "just an entertainer," they say. "He was a child molester," they say. "He bleached his skin," they say. "He spent his money on ridiculous things," they say.
So they say. And those that say all those things neglect to recognize the impact that Michael had on the world.
Go to any place in the world that has some link, any link at all to the modern world, and they know who Michael Jackson was. You could get 100 people in a room who all speak different languages, throw on "Billie Jean," and everyone would probably sing and dance along. Michael's music knew no boundaries.
The world paused when he left it. The whole freaking world.
There may never be another artist/entertainer/innovator/philathropist like Michael Jackson. Correction: There will never be another artist/entertainer/innovator/philanthropist like Michael Jackson.
I am once again at a loss for words.
At one point, I wanted to believe that Michael had not left us. I joked that he was on his way to the secret underground lair to meet up with Elvis and Tupac. They would stage a comeback tour that would literally make our heads explode from trying to comprehend it all.
But this is not so.
This post was supposed to be longer, more eloquent, more befitting of the man, myth, and legend that was simply the greatest entertainer to grace this planet. But the front page of a French newspaper summed it up best:
Le roi est mort.
(The king is dead.)
Michael, may your spirit find the peace you deserve. No matter what they said and will continue to say, we love you. We will always love you.
Where was I when I heard the news?
I was sitting on the couch in the family room with my dad, clutching my cell phone, anxiously waiting for more news. 45 minutes before that moment, I had returned a phone call from my sister. She asked me to check the news to find out if Michael Jackson was really dead. My reaction was, of course, that it was a rumor run rampant and out of control. He wasn't dead. Heart attack maybe, but dead, no. My Google search confirmed my instincts. TMZ was wrong and I was right. He had suffered cardiac arrest, but he was in the hospital. He was going to be ok.
The next call was to my boyfriend. Had he heard the news? He had. But it was going to be ok.
Next stop, Facebook. Some people were blindly following TMZ, perpetuating the death rumor. I, instead, held on to hope. My status message: God, I don't normally ask for favors, but if you could help MJ pull through, I'd appreciate it. We don't need to lose any more people, stars or otherwise, this week. Thanks.
Downstairs to the family room. The report on the news was that Michael was in a deep coma. Not good. But not dead. Text to my sister: NBC 4 just reported that MJ is in a coma. Keep hope alive. Only TMZ is saying he's gone.
Two minutes later, the special report music broke into a commercial break. The instant I heard it and saw the screen, I felt my stomach drop. I didn't need Brian Williams to tell me what I knew at that very moment:
Michael Jackson was gone.
There are so many people out there who wonder why there has been such an outpouring of grief for Michael. He was "just an entertainer," they say. "He was a child molester," they say. "He bleached his skin," they say. "He spent his money on ridiculous things," they say.
So they say. And those that say all those things neglect to recognize the impact that Michael had on the world.
Go to any place in the world that has some link, any link at all to the modern world, and they know who Michael Jackson was. You could get 100 people in a room who all speak different languages, throw on "Billie Jean," and everyone would probably sing and dance along. Michael's music knew no boundaries.
The world paused when he left it. The whole freaking world.
There may never be another artist/entertainer/innovator/philathropist like Michael Jackson. Correction: There will never be another artist/entertainer/innovator/philanthropist like Michael Jackson.
I am once again at a loss for words.
At one point, I wanted to believe that Michael had not left us. I joked that he was on his way to the secret underground lair to meet up with Elvis and Tupac. They would stage a comeback tour that would literally make our heads explode from trying to comprehend it all.
But this is not so.
This post was supposed to be longer, more eloquent, more befitting of the man, myth, and legend that was simply the greatest entertainer to grace this planet. But the front page of a French newspaper summed it up best:
Le roi est mort.
(The king is dead.)
Michael, may your spirit find the peace you deserve. No matter what they said and will continue to say, we love you. We will always love you.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
In Soviet Russia...
We have a cat. I've mentioned the cat here and there over the years. He's still here, 12 years old, and fatter than ever.
Ah yes, the old Fuzz Bucket. He only gets called by his real name when he's in serious trouble, just like a little kid. Otherwise, he's Fuzz Bucket, Kitty, Stupid Cat, or Dude (as in, "Dude, seriously! You've already had your dinner. Stop bugging me!"). And just like a little kid, he has peed or thrown up on a seemingly infinite number of surfaces and objects, yet, he's still alive and he's still here. He's like the bratty little brother I never wanted.
Fuzz Bucket primarily lives in my room, which is actually my sister's old room. None of that matters to the cat: it's his room. Hence, he must have 24 hour access in and out of my room. Failure to provide unlimited access to the room will result in being awoken at 3am by endless pawing and meowing at the door until His Royal Highness has been allowed to enter. Fuzz Bucket has his own special spot on my bed; a beach towel covers it to keep the massive amounts of fur off of my comforter.
The first person to go downstairs in the morning must feed the cat. The first person to walk in the door after 4pm must feed the cat. These are the rules. Fuzz Bucket enforces them. Ignore the rules, and you will receive a head butt from Sir FurryPants.
Yes, a head butt. My cat head butts us when he is demanding to be fed.
And he's still here. We feed him and clean his litter boxes (yes, he has two!) and feed him and let him sleep wherever he wants to and feed him and open the blinds to the sliding glass door so he can watch the birds and squirrels. Did I mention that we feed him?
The cat knows the sound of the margarine tub being opened (because every once in a while, he'll get a "treat," a pat of margarine in his food dish). He knows the sound of the deli bags (because every once in a while, he'll get another treat, a tiny piece of turkey or cheese). The cat knows when there's a fresh bag of kitty food in the pantry.
I didn't know that he knows the sound of the electric can opener, too.
I decided to have a tuna sandwich for dinner, and attempted to open the can with the electric can opener. After about 10 seconds of miserably failing at this, the cat comes barreling down the stairs and down the hall into the kitchen.
"What the hell? You don't eat canned cat food! Why did you come down here?" was my line of questioning to ol' Fuzz Bucket, as he stopped in the hall and just stared at me. Waiting. For something. Mom comes downstairs as I'm searching for an old school can opener, and opens the can for me. The cat trots into the kitchen and looks at us expectantly.
"Oh," I realize, "You want the tuna! Well, you can't have any. Especially since you threw up on my bed last week. So there! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!"
"He can have tuna," Mom said. "I give him the can."
"What?"
"Well, you really can't get every single little bit out of there. So after I empty the can, I give it to the cat."
"Oh." I spoon the tuna out of the can and into my bowl. The cat is doing his "Feed Me" dance, and making a holy racket. I place the can by Fuzz Bucket's bowl, and he immediately tucks in, clearing the last bits of tuna away.
There is the cat, who just puked on my bed last week, with the empty can of tuna that I let him lick.
He really doesn't know how good he has it.
In a perfect world, we own cats. In the real world, cats own us.
Ah yes, the old Fuzz Bucket. He only gets called by his real name when he's in serious trouble, just like a little kid. Otherwise, he's Fuzz Bucket, Kitty, Stupid Cat, or Dude (as in, "Dude, seriously! You've already had your dinner. Stop bugging me!"). And just like a little kid, he has peed or thrown up on a seemingly infinite number of surfaces and objects, yet, he's still alive and he's still here. He's like the bratty little brother I never wanted.
Fuzz Bucket primarily lives in my room, which is actually my sister's old room. None of that matters to the cat: it's his room. Hence, he must have 24 hour access in and out of my room. Failure to provide unlimited access to the room will result in being awoken at 3am by endless pawing and meowing at the door until His Royal Highness has been allowed to enter. Fuzz Bucket has his own special spot on my bed; a beach towel covers it to keep the massive amounts of fur off of my comforter.
The first person to go downstairs in the morning must feed the cat. The first person to walk in the door after 4pm must feed the cat. These are the rules. Fuzz Bucket enforces them. Ignore the rules, and you will receive a head butt from Sir FurryPants.
Yes, a head butt. My cat head butts us when he is demanding to be fed.
And he's still here. We feed him and clean his litter boxes (yes, he has two!) and feed him and let him sleep wherever he wants to and feed him and open the blinds to the sliding glass door so he can watch the birds and squirrels. Did I mention that we feed him?
The cat knows the sound of the margarine tub being opened (because every once in a while, he'll get a "treat," a pat of margarine in his food dish). He knows the sound of the deli bags (because every once in a while, he'll get another treat, a tiny piece of turkey or cheese). The cat knows when there's a fresh bag of kitty food in the pantry.
I didn't know that he knows the sound of the electric can opener, too.
I decided to have a tuna sandwich for dinner, and attempted to open the can with the electric can opener. After about 10 seconds of miserably failing at this, the cat comes barreling down the stairs and down the hall into the kitchen.
"What the hell? You don't eat canned cat food! Why did you come down here?" was my line of questioning to ol' Fuzz Bucket, as he stopped in the hall and just stared at me. Waiting. For something. Mom comes downstairs as I'm searching for an old school can opener, and opens the can for me. The cat trots into the kitchen and looks at us expectantly.
"Oh," I realize, "You want the tuna! Well, you can't have any. Especially since you threw up on my bed last week. So there! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!"
"He can have tuna," Mom said. "I give him the can."
"What?"
"Well, you really can't get every single little bit out of there. So after I empty the can, I give it to the cat."
"Oh." I spoon the tuna out of the can and into my bowl. The cat is doing his "Feed Me" dance, and making a holy racket. I place the can by Fuzz Bucket's bowl, and he immediately tucks in, clearing the last bits of tuna away.
There is the cat, who just puked on my bed last week, with the empty can of tuna that I let him lick.
He really doesn't know how good he has it.
In a perfect world, we own cats. In the real world, cats own us.
Friday, June 05, 2009
It's finally summer, y'all!
And yet, I say this while it's currently 57 degrees and raining outside. I'm in my bed, in pants and my beloved Rutgers hoodie, under a comforter, while the cat has just settled in on his side of the bed next to a pile of clean laundry.
But being as that we have already celebrated Memorial Day Weekend, and I am no longer a victim of the New Jersey public school system, it is now summer for all intents and purposes. Hooray!!
So the seasons are a changin'. My allergies have eased up a bit. The days are longer and the nights are warmer. I already have a tan and I haven't set foot on the Shore (cringe). Bridges are slowly mending, status quos (stati quo? statuses quoi? whatever) have upgraded quite nicely, and the cd's keep spinning in my Ramenmobile.
The Ramenmobile that failed inspection a few weeks ago, resulting in me dropping over $400 for new tires, balancing, and alignment (thank god for Visa). But the cd player keeps chugging along!
One of the things I have really enjoyed about the Epic Music Project is listening to albums that I haven't touched in years for various reasons. This has mostly happened with my classical albums, which really aren't my go-to option for a Saturday afternoon cruise. But the ones I have heard so far I have really enjoyed: Bizet's L'Arlesienne and Carmen suites, Beethoven's 4th and 7th symphonies (the 2nd movement of the 7th is one of my all-time favorite pieces ever), and Holst's "The Planets."
I have also amazed myself with my ability to exercise restraint when purchasing an album before it comes up in the order to be played. I mentioned Green Day's new album "21st Century Breakdown" a few weeks back. I bought it nearly a week before its turn...and the hardest part was not ripping open the plastic as soon as I got in my car. The wait was worth it, for the most part. Not quite as awesome as "American Idiot," but I did listen to track #9, "Serenade," about 8 or 9 times in a row before forcing myself to listen to the rest of the album.
Sometime this weekend will mark the start of Jacksonpalooza, and I'm not sure if I'm excited or if I'm about to ruin my favorite part of my cd collection for myself for all eternity. The playlist is as follows:
The Early Stuff
Jackson 5 - The Ultimate Collection (one of my most favorite albums EVER)
The Essential Jacksons
Janet's Stuff
Janet
Design of a Decade
The Velvet Rope
All For You
Michael's Stuff
Off The Wall
Thriller (25th Anniversary Edition)
Bad
Dangerous
HIStory
Invincible
Whoo lordy that is a lot of music from one family! After a one disc break, courtesy of Jamiroquai, I'll then get into the Wyclef-a-thon, listening to all Wyclef Jean's major studio releases (all 6 of them!).
All of this while I have had the strongest urge to listen to the Spring Awakening soundtrack. S is a long ways away from J. Sigh.
I guess that's about it for now. My Favorite Albums list has been updated...I haven't come to any conclusions yet. I don't know if there's supposed to be a conclusion. Except that my tastes in music are rather schizo and really aren't even well represented by my list. Or maybe they are. Whatever. Anyway, peruse the list as you please. The links take you to the album's Amazon page so you can sample the tracks. I make no money from this, it's merely a courtesy.
Laters!!
But being as that we have already celebrated Memorial Day Weekend, and I am no longer a victim of the New Jersey public school system, it is now summer for all intents and purposes. Hooray!!
So the seasons are a changin'. My allergies have eased up a bit. The days are longer and the nights are warmer. I already have a tan and I haven't set foot on the Shore (cringe). Bridges are slowly mending, status quos (stati quo? statuses quoi? whatever) have upgraded quite nicely, and the cd's keep spinning in my Ramenmobile.
The Ramenmobile that failed inspection a few weeks ago, resulting in me dropping over $400 for new tires, balancing, and alignment (thank god for Visa). But the cd player keeps chugging along!
One of the things I have really enjoyed about the Epic Music Project is listening to albums that I haven't touched in years for various reasons. This has mostly happened with my classical albums, which really aren't my go-to option for a Saturday afternoon cruise. But the ones I have heard so far I have really enjoyed: Bizet's L'Arlesienne and Carmen suites, Beethoven's 4th and 7th symphonies (the 2nd movement of the 7th is one of my all-time favorite pieces ever), and Holst's "The Planets."
I have also amazed myself with my ability to exercise restraint when purchasing an album before it comes up in the order to be played. I mentioned Green Day's new album "21st Century Breakdown" a few weeks back. I bought it nearly a week before its turn...and the hardest part was not ripping open the plastic as soon as I got in my car. The wait was worth it, for the most part. Not quite as awesome as "American Idiot," but I did listen to track #9, "Serenade," about 8 or 9 times in a row before forcing myself to listen to the rest of the album.
Sometime this weekend will mark the start of Jacksonpalooza, and I'm not sure if I'm excited or if I'm about to ruin my favorite part of my cd collection for myself for all eternity. The playlist is as follows:
The Early Stuff
Jackson 5 - The Ultimate Collection (one of my most favorite albums EVER)
The Essential Jacksons
Janet's Stuff
Janet
Design of a Decade
The Velvet Rope
All For You
Michael's Stuff
Off The Wall
Thriller (25th Anniversary Edition)
Bad
Dangerous
HIStory
Invincible
Whoo lordy that is a lot of music from one family! After a one disc break, courtesy of Jamiroquai, I'll then get into the Wyclef-a-thon, listening to all Wyclef Jean's major studio releases (all 6 of them!).
All of this while I have had the strongest urge to listen to the Spring Awakening soundtrack. S is a long ways away from J. Sigh.
I guess that's about it for now. My Favorite Albums list has been updated...I haven't come to any conclusions yet. I don't know if there's supposed to be a conclusion. Except that my tastes in music are rather schizo and really aren't even well represented by my list. Or maybe they are. Whatever. Anyway, peruse the list as you please. The links take you to the album's Amazon page so you can sample the tracks. I make no money from this, it's merely a courtesy.
Laters!!
