I know the holidays can be difficult for people who are alone, or have suffered losses, or who struggle with depression. As I came here to post three of my favorite (secular) Christmas songs, it occurred to me that all three of the artists suffered from mental illness, and all died as a result of their illness. When I listen to these songs now, it prompts me to send extra long-distance hugs to my friends and family having a rough time. You are loved, even from far away!
First, the imitable Judy G, with her lesser-known holiday favorite, from another Christmas-ish movie that doesn't seem like one (and in this case, the movie is a loose remake of one of my favorite Christmas movies, The Shop Around the Corner--remade again as You've Got Mail).
Next, a song that has been covered--BADLY--so many times. The original is terrific. Why is Donny Hathaway not on constant rotation on oldies radio?!
Lastly, another of my contralto ladies. If you don't like this, we cannot be friends.
There are some very weird fan-generated Murdoch Mysteries videos. This is not even one of them. But you can see that Yannick Bisson is an expert on smizing. (I suppose puppy-dog eyes are a helpful tool.)
Busy busy over here--everybody getting sick (sidebar: tummy meds still working!!) while I desperately try to avoid illness in preparation for rehearsals starting tomorrow night! (The chorus of the concert performance I alluded to a few posts back. The audition did go fairly well, despite my jitters, and while they were quite complimentary, I wasn't cast in any of the comprimario roles I was interested in-- they were probably precast anyway. I decided to sit in in the chorus, despite not having sung in an opera chorus since 2006--and then only as a favor!--and because there's more music to learn, it may even be more helpful for diction education than a comprimario part.) The process has indeed been helpful in my comprehension of general diction in the given language. (Vague Girl is being Vague.) I feel that learning pieces in this language will be a lot easier in the future because of the work I'm doing now. Plus I get to hang out in the vocal basement, my favorite place to live.
In other news, we are getting ready for Christmas, albeit slowly due to the aforementioned illnesses and music-learning. We have a wreath on the house, and we bought a tree at Costco Thanksgiving weekend, but we haven't brought it in yet. (There are NO TREES available here after December 10--it is so weird--so you basically have to buy early, cut off a few inches of trunk and keep it in a bucket of water outside if you don't plan on putting it up right away. My father's birthday is next week, and he was grumpy about it, so we never put up the tree until afterwards. Ideally, it would be up already, though.) We had Rosina write a note to Santa, which she will deliver to our neighbor/professional Santa (who she knows is "Santa's Helper, not actual Santa") on Sunday. We have not done any shopping for her yet, but I am almost done with a life-size knitted puffin. It's a very clever pattern, with lots of short rows and slipped stitches used to great effect. I just didn't know it was going to be so BIG.
My love for Gene Kelly is well-established (like I said, I have a type, like whoa), and this is a lovely use of Bruno Mars. (I like that they referenced That's Entertainment! at the end, since this is an obvious homage.)
Speaking of Bruno Mars: If you weren't listening carefully to "Locked Out of Heaven", you'd miss some choice lyrics. "Your sex takes me to paradise"?!?!? That is so damn awkward and embarrassing. I am no prude (though I have taken to changing the station in Rosina's presence when certain things come on--Tone Loc, I'm looking at you!), but if they were going for poetry, they missed the mark. Surely the word "love" would mean nearly the same thing, and scan better as well. And damn, I actually liked that song, and now I feel weird about it.
Since I neglected to mention it, a link to my tummy cure. At least it seems that way. I have been on some serious antibiotics in the past--Cipro for food poisoning twice, I think, and three weeks of clindamycin this spring--so I was definitely skeptical. But things are a lot better at present.
Turned in the sample on Monday! Now I'm nearly finished with some knee-high tube socks for Rosina. She has been a bit impatient about them... I have one sock finished of a pair for myself, but other than that, I've been thinking about starting some cool fingerless mitts from the yarn I bought in Manhattan. Also, Rosina says she wants a stuffed alligator, but I don't love the patterns I've seen. She'd been pushing for a hedgehog earlier in the year, so I may encourage that. Also, I have seen an amigurumi narwhal. That will be happening regardless.
(Post pending for a week due to technical issues.)
I enjoy singing this to Mark, mainly because it is cheesy. Also, he hates REO Speedwagon. This video is classic '80s weird (crazy effects! floating candles!), with the most hilarious punk in the first few seconds. And why does the band look so narcoleptic? Was this filmed at 4 A.M.?
Somewhat related: my current Netflix binge-watch is Murdoch Mysteries, which I recommend to anyone who loves murder mysteries, super Canadian things, historical dramas (especially with a hint of silly steampunk), and sexy grown-up Boy Scouts. (Yes, I have a type: Superman, though not Christopher Reeve. Is this a problem?) This morning "Kiss Me" came on the radio, and it reminded me of those terrible rom-com montage videos--and I realized you could make a hilarious one from this show. Lots of footage of Murdoch on his bike, a shot of the night-vision goggles, Dr. Ogden analyzing a victim's stomach contents, Brackenreid making grumpy faces--and I suppose a little kissing, just in juxtaposition. I may be on to something here...
I promised some crafting content a bit ago, didn't I? I did finally finish this twin-size afghan for Rosina:
(Apparently Blogger sucks too bad to post pictures at the moment. Here's a link.)
I started this in January 2013, and it is almost entirely made from wool leftovers. We're planning to get Rosina a convertible loft bed in the next few months (she is still in a toddler bed, but is outgrowing it!). I've never been one to have a lot of things on the needles at once, but there were a few days in September when I only had one project going that wasn't spinning! I'm currently working on a sample, but am also working on striped tube socks for Rosina (a break from a pair I'm making for myself).
Our long-awaited trip to New York was last week. My cousin got married on Long Island on Saturday, then Mark and I spent a few days in Manhattan on our own--a mini tenth-anniversary second honeymoon, six months late. We had a great time, mostly staying on the Upper West Side, but we also went on the Circle Line, since neither of us had been. (Definitely worth it, even if you live there!) The trip included my first trip to the Met (I KNOW--but when operas get out after ten, it's fairly inconvenient to go if you're coming in from the suburbs, as I always had), and we did it in style with Tannhaeuser. Mark has been humming the hymn theme all week, but this morning I woke up with this in my head:
That lead singer wants sooo bad to be Robert Plant, you can just tell.
Lovely trip, though, despite a bit of a false alarm with my tummy stuff. (Stay tuned--we may have found something that works!) We got home yesterday, after too-brief visits with family and friends, and now I am faced with towers of laundry. Also, I need to get Rosina's Halloween costume done now, since I should be receiving the yarn for a quick-turnaround pattern sample on Monday.
Down some Wikipedia rabbit hole the other day, I was reading about the very underrated Joe Jackson. I hadn't remembered that he wrote "Real Men", which Tori Amos awesomely covered on Strange Little Girls. (Fun fact: that album dropped on 9/11/01. Hence the song "I Can't See New York" on her next album--she was in the air to promote the album release.) But the original! It is so good! And the video is soooo weird, even for an '80s video.
Gee, a pop song about questioning one's sexuality. I wonder why this wasn't a big hit record in 1983... Would any mainstream radio station even have played this?? And I can't imagine seeing this on MTV at the time, along with unchallenging fare like Journey and Phil Collins. (I was an intermittent early MTV viewer, though I was a little young--my aunts really liked it. "Ceci n'est pas un pipe...")
Speaking of music with inexplicably heavy radio airplay, this has been on so much, on multiple stations, that Rosina sings the chorus all the time, and this morning asked me to play it for her.
Serious song, to be sure, but damn, that is such a '90s video...
Elephant in the room: welp, this time tomorrow I have my first audition in two years. For the same people I sang for two years ago. There's a chance this time will be more fruitful. I'm actually letting them consider me for the chorus of one show, because I love the composer and would like to get some experience in this particular language--plus it's a concert version, which means fewer (and shorter) rehearsals. There are also comprimario roles in this and another show that are of interest, if they're not already cast. Anyway, it's nerve-wracking, I don't feel ready, bad allergies right now, etc., plus I've never sung either piece I'm offering in an audition (though they've been performed for peers). One of the reasons I really need to fit in a few lessons this fall is that I need to figure out whether the impression that my voice is sitting lower than before is legitimate, or if I just need to practice more! (Maybe a combination of the two?) My first aria is a contralto aria that I've finally grown into, and the second is by the composer alluded to above, which needs a bit of oversight at the end (climbing tessitura is my nemesis--heightened drama, I know, but urrrrrrrgggghh) but otherwise is a great fit and fun to sing. Now, to alternate between a teenage warrior and an old witch...
On a less-stressful note: my grandmother and aunts are coming Wednesday! The big house out in the boonies is going up for sale in the spring, probably, and they are looking for a 55+ community somewhere it doesn't snow as much. Aunt C is pushing for closer to the DC area, where she is, but their money will go farther here, and the area still has a lot to offer. (Plus I am selfish and want them near me--the free babysitting only as a bonus!) They'll be here a few days, looking at some options, but there will be plenty of time to visit and maybe see a few things. I do need to clean a bit before then. It's not terrible, but hopefully I can dispel some performance anxiety while sweeping the kitchen! It's NSFW language-wise, but I discovered Unfuck Your Habitat a few days ago, and I really like their philosophy. Today I even set a timer for twenty minutes while I washed a pile of dishes, and it was actually helpful. (Normally we don't have piles, even though our pots and pans need to be hand-washed, but somebody made pasta last night and decided to go to bed early...)
So wish me luck tomorrow night! Next post: extreme crafting.
Things I am hearing on the radio with way more frequency than if left to chance:
•Guns N' Roses in general, "November Rain" in particular
•"We Will Rock You" (not that I'm complaining, but it's not even a big sports season)
•The Cure
"Rich Girl", but that may be selection bias since it was the #1 song the week I was born
•"Margaritaville", which actually makes sense. Parenthetically, my tolerance for Jimmy Buffett has improved over the years. I'm not ready to join the Conch Republic, though.
•Waaaay too much Red Hot Chili Peppers. Sorry, I burned out on them more than a decade ago. Decent live show, though, as you'd expect.
Something I want to hear more often--just love this guy's voice forever:
Rosina is off for three weeks before starting preschool again. A five-day program! 🙀 It does mean more free time for me--time I should spend practicing, and actually getting in a few lessons this fall--and another hour at the office every week. Plus it will be so good for her little growing brain. It unfortunately means she can't take dance with her previous teacher, since her evening classes are on the wrong side of town if I feel like avoiding a traffic hellscape, and they also interfere with her nap. We may sign her up for tae kwon do next month, which is a bit later in the afternoon.
Speaking of which, one of our other anticipated schedule changes for the fall is that I have suspended my belly dance classes for the time being. I'm not very happy about it, but a few months ago I decided to crunch the numbers, and for the price of one month of belly dance classes, we can get TWO monthly gym memberships. This revelation coincided with my original teacher going into semi-retirement. Her classes were taken over by one of her former students who teaches in the next town over, and while she is good, she seems to have a really big upper-body focus, which would be great if I didn't have a bulging disc that makes shoulder shimmies and some other arm moves only occasionally tolerable, not an all-the-time thing. Seriously, I'll try any hip moves you can throw at me, and have a good chance of success--but my neck says No, Thank You after about ten seconds of shoulder shimmies. (That and it always seems a bit embarrassing with my bust size.) Anyway, I'm taking a break, and we already have a gym in mind--very close, with childcare and classes of interest--we just need to find the opportunity for a visit, and figure out whether we can get a better deal without using Mark's company discount.
No worries, just taking three months off for the hell of it. Seriously, I have been wasting too much time on Facebook and Ravelry, but I have also been fairly productive, crafting- and household-wise. We did spend a week in Buffalo, but I had a cold the whole time. :/ At least with Mark's sister around, I did get a bit of a Rosina-break, and even allowed myself to take naps. Novel.
Ooh, I will update more later, but there's a thunderstorm and the power's flickering. To close for now, I will mention that I heard the Nine Inch Nails version of "Hurt" on the radio the other day, for the first time in a verrry long time, and truthfully, it is not nearly as good as the Johnny Cash cover. I guess I was never a big Trent Reznor fan anyway, but Johnny Cash just wins it all, you know? Also, btw, this is my new karaoke song. Whenever I get around to doing karaoke again!
George Michael. For as long as I can remember, even when it was not cool at all to admit it. This song! This video! Christy Turlington, guys!!
I actually forgot our two other health crises since the fall--mostly because they were resolved fairly quickly. Two ER trips! The Monday before Thanksgiving, I was draining pasta and managed to spill boiling water all over my right thigh. It happened too late in the day to get to Urgent Care, but in the morning my doctor couldn't treat it due to the infection risk, so I ended up at the ER (on a Tuesday afternoon, so luckily it didn't take long). The burn was the size of both my hands together, in the shape of an a Enterprise comm badge. (Still is, LOL.) It was pretty awful for the first four or five days--I never knew how much burns sucked--but it did heal pretty quickly. My doctor was even impressed at my healing abilities!
The second trip was for Rosina, poor thing. In February (luckily just before we got all that snow!), I was making dinner, again, when she tripped over Mark's foot and split the underside of her chin. She clearly needed stitches, but when we got her to Urgent Care they had to send us to a pediatric ER so she could be sedated. She wasn't in a lot of pain, which was a good thing because we had to wait forever--we got through triage right away, but spent four hours in the waiting room, then two more in an ER bay before the process started. She was such a trouper, and even got a little loopy from the sedative. Five stitches! We got home at exactly 4:00 A.M. The scar is in a pretty good spot, at least...
I meant to post this about two weeks ago, but I kept getting sidetracked--plus my child is not the reliable naptaker she once was--but I will update on my dumb, random, annoying and not-completely-critical health crap. But first: I like this song. The semi-creepy video is reminiscient of The Omega Man (in part because they were both filmed in an empty Los Angeles), and is slightly related to the song, I guess.
Anyway: so my perspiration problems and weight gain (starting two years ago now! jeez) were caused by the very low dose (i.e. half the starter dose for people with depression) of an old tricyclic antidepressant I was taking for IBS. After all my tests came back negative last year, I had no idea where to even start, but at some point I started searching (reliable) health websites for "excessive perspiration"...and came across something that I already knew from experience (infected sweat glands, awesome!), that antidepressants can cause it. Given that I had also gained about 30 pounds since April 2013--another side effect of antidepressants, also written off as part of early perimenopause--I put two and two together. Luckily I had a GI followup scheduled, and when I told my PA she was fairly convinced herself! Unfortunately this meant changing medications--and my IBS was actually reasonably controlled by the old stuff. The new stuff is a weird concept (daily powdered drink made of bovine immunoglobulins, seriously), and it works cumulatively--but before I started it, I had to step down from the antidepressant. If you've never done this, it's awful. Detox, basically, and for me it was hard even though I was on such a low dose to begin with. (I will never willingly take antidepressants again. Clearly they do not agree with me.) Along with the detox symptoms, my IBS was uncontrolled (other than emergency Imodium, and something I take for cramping) for weeks and weeks, until the new medication started to work. I seem to recall it took about two months to see positive change, so that was THREE months needing to know where the bathroom was at all times. (TMI.) Plus the detox. Also, I didn't give it much credit at the time, but that antidepressant was helping me sleep--so insomnia on top of all of it! It was pretty rough! But as I said, the new medication has been working increasingly well (though it's not perfect), and I have lost about twelve pounds in the last six months. (Currently stalled. Of course.) The perspiration issues seemed to stop once I went off the old medicine, but coincidentally that was the second week of October. ;) I will say that we've had a few warmer days already, and I think I'm back to my usual hot-natured (but reasonably typical) self. I will be on the new medication for another four months or so, but this stuff is so new, they're not really sure how long the effects will last. A few years, at least (which hopefully makes it worth paying for name-brand meds!), but I won't know what the plan will be until my next appointment in July.
Other ridiculous health drama...this one I'm not so cool about, because it is totally not fucking normal, even if it is not actually going to kill me, or even keep me from my daily activities. I've been fighting serious sinus irritation and bleeding for several years now--I dunno, maybe pregnancy messed up something? Not likely--and I thought the cause was Flonase. I switched to Nasocort, and while it didn't make things worse, it didn't help with the irritation. With the basically non-stop colds we had from September to March, I'd spent a minor amount of time with my finger in my nose--applying that water-based gel, then Aquaphor or even Carmex when the Ayr clearly didn't work. In mid-February I felt what seemed like erosion in the right side of my septum, near the front of my nose but not piercing territory. Weirded out, I made an appointment with my GP, who said it could happen to people in my situation--not just cokeheads!--and prescribed some antibiotic ointment and a Z-pack (I happened to have a sinus infection as well, fancy that). After a few weeks, it didn't seem to be improving--even after the colds FINALLY stopped--and in late March, I blew out something thick and flat. Apparently it was covering the extra hole I now possess in my fucking nose. Who knows how long it had been there, covered. So of course I freaked out--it is a seriously messed-up thing, and I don't know if being able to see it (if I hold my neck and mirror at very specific angles) is helpful or not. Anyway, I managed to get an ENT appointment quite quickly. Still no word on exactly how it happened--probably a combination of things, since my culture came back with the usual stuff, and I PROMISE YOU, I did not pick my nose so hard I dug a freaking hole through CARTILAGE, oh my God this is insane--but I just finished three more weeks of antibiotics, and have a fairly strict Sinus Rinse/topical antibiotic regimen. That and the ENT's developed this awesome mentholyptus-style lubricating sinus spray. (So at least there's that.) I have to do all this for another six weeks, then I have a follow-up to see if my septum is healed enough for surgery to be a consideration. Apparently the surgery sucks as well, so who knows. I have learned, though, that my snoring has gotten worse (I have a whistle, but only I can hear it, so I'm not sure why--other than that I live with Mr. Light Sleeper). I'm less upset right now, but it is still So Not Cool, and I wish I could go back to last fall and see an ENT before the shit hit the fan. Oh wait, I spent all of September either in the bathroom or lying on the couch with the lights out. :(
So anyway, that's basically what I was avoiding posting. Enjoy my teal deer! Now that it's over with, I can continue regaling my small audience with silly music observations, such as: why do they play so much Biggie during the '90s at Noon on the local alternative pop/eclectic radio station? And that said, it almost sounds quaint now--I mean, they hardly use Auto-Tune at all! Also, did you know there's a free Auto-Tune app? Dang, that means my mother could use Auto-Tune. I would actually pay for that!
My kid likes Arctic Monkeys. It is pretty hilarious. I suppose I should be glad she's stopped singing along with "Take Me to Church" when it comes on in the car.
I finished reading Doctor Sleep today. I haven't read any Stephen King in forever, and I have no idea why it took me so long to get to this one, considering how much I love The Shining. Maybe I was worried that it wouldn't be any good? It was. What is it about his writing that I'm always completely engulfed in his universes? I'm also reminded that I've been meaning to read 'Salem's Lot. It's funny that I can read books on gory topics, but can't even handle CSI--I guess I'm good at skimming over the grody stuff, or just not letting my imagination dwell on it...
"...Whatever is next, I don't want to have to compromise my priorities to get there, and I never want to be guilty of leaving behind what matters most."
The local classical station played Madama Butterfly the other night, which reminded me that I wanted to post this. To paraphrase, Cio-Cio-San is about to commit ritual suicide when her son walks into the room. She tells him that she is dying so he can go to America with his father, and asks him to remember her. The hunky guy in the T-shirt and hipster facial hair (Pinkerton, the child's father, AKA a grade-A slimeball) is none other than Placido Domingo. This is not normally staged this way--usually Pinkerton, his wife and the consul Sharpless walk in after the fact--but this production has some modern elements (note hunky Placido's T-shirt).
On a note unrelated to seppuku or extreme melodrama, my nephew was born on Saturday morning! It is still extremely strange to think of BJ as being a father. In the one picture I have seen of him holding baby Colin, he has him in the classic two-arm, "I have never held a baby before, and I am so scared I am going to drop him" pose. Obviously he has held babies before, but it always cracks me up when people hold babies like that. It's usually men, but not always. Anyway, I am knitting another Baby Bobbi Bear for Colin (many thanks to a friend who loaned me a copy of her pattern, since my copy seems to have walked off!). Photos when it's done! In the meantime, here's the sweater I knit for him back in October (Springtime Baby Cardi):
And while I'm discussing cardigans, Rosina is really loving the little Shalom Cardigan I made her, with sleeves added. It's almost too warm here to wear such a bulky sweater--not that I'm complaining--but we will have a few more chilly mornings.
Oh, Veronica Mars series finale, you are so damn unsatisfying!! I suppose I'm lucky that this is my first time watching; the movie DVD will be on its way to me in a few days, but most had to wait seven years for it. And now I see that there are novelizations... And here I was expecting to have to resort to fanfic!
In other news, Rosina's school is out for Spring Break this week, so I'll be working from home, just like in the old days. There are a few fun things on the horizon, but I also need to renew my license (and replace a fairly good picture from EIGHT YEARS AGO with a new one--that is just cruel) and spend waaay too much money on an interior door panel for my car. Like, more than three car payments' worth. Or two-and-a-half months of preschool tuition. Ugh, the last six months have been really expensive...
Today would have been Sister Rosetta Tharpe's 100th birthday! Below are two examples of why everyone should know her name:
WHAT. WAS. THAT. Basically, Eric Clapton and Jimmy Page learned everything they know about the guitar from her.
I love this. She was primarily a gospel artist, but had a secular phase where she palled around with Cab Calloway and the like. This is a super hot song with dirty lyrics and some damn amazing dancing.
If you'd like to see more, I recommend her PBS American Masters special--it should be available on the PBS website, and I think it's even on YouTube.
In case you hadn't heard, the Marvin Gaye plagiarism case was decided the other day. I know this will probably not be the end of it, and that the fines are a drop in the bucket to these people, but I am still pissed that this was even in question. They SO OBVIOUSLY stole the bass line and rhythm from "Got to Give it Up". The parts they stole are the main reason "Blurred Lines" gets stuck in my head, despite its rapey lyrics. At least I can switch songs in my head!
In completely unrelated musical news, I read Deborah Voigt's autobiography over the weekend. It was okay, though I wish she had talked more about technique and less about her abusive relationships and addictions...her book, though! It did make it seem like she was just born with a fully-formed Wagnerian voice--which is obviously not true! I'm sure she worked her butt off. I just wish there had been more details! There was a decent amount of dish about other singers, which is always fun. My two favorite anecdotes are her description of getting groped by Bill Clinton (I KNOW) during a photo at a backstage meet-and-greet, while still at her heavier weight (OF COURSE), and the late-night phone call she got from Pavarotti to get details about her bariatric surgery. Just really damn hilarious.
Speaking of being overweight: I don't think I ever mentioned here that The Mystery of the Premature Perimenopause was solved. I will delve into more detail at some point (tomorrow?), but the short answer is: it wasn't actually perimenopause, but unpleasant side effects from my IBS medication! In the last five months, I've lost about 15 of the ~33 pounds I gained over 18 months on that stuff. I can't tell a difference yet (COME ON ALREADY!!), but I would like to be able to get back into my old capri pants by the time I can wear them!
I like this song, but I don't love this video. And now that I've heard her stripped-down performance for NPR, I don't love her voice, either. Too bad! I would have LOVED this song when I was 15. Along with most of the other angsty girls.
In other news, my daughter's friend asked me if I "had a baby in my tummy" today. (Probably time to get rid of this shirt! But seriously, it does actually have gathers in the stomach region--plus it's too short. It would've been a fine maternity shirt if it were longer.) When I said no, she asked why I was fat. (I may not even be paraphrasing.) I told her that some people are fat and some are skinny, and that it's no big deal. I was definitely not offended--she's barely four, and was just curious, plus I know I do not in actuality look pregnant--but I'm really glad her mother wasn't right there to hear! Can you imagine how mortifying that would be?!? I would want to sink into the earth.
Let's see if this actually works... The Blogger app has never been great, and it's apparently going to be a dick about posting videos--and despite the fact that they're all one big happy Google family now (all hail the almighty Google), YouTube doesn't have a direct share to Blogger on their app. Huzzah for dated interfaces... (Aaannddd...nope. Editing this on Safari, which is ridiculous. I may need to resort to email posts. Maybe it would work with Google Plus? I gave up on that a while ago, when I grudgingly acknowledged that Facebook is a necessary evil.)
Anyway, this is the second candidate for Saddest Song in the World. It was so sad that Joan freaking Baez decided to cover it. And I checked that: this is a Dar Williams original--in case your ears deceived you! It was topical, as I mentioned, because damn, we had a rough February! There were no keys freezing in ponds, but it was thirty degrees below normal. We have daffodils and seasonable temperatures at the moment, but jeez, it snowed TWO WEEKS AGO. Nuts.
(It would be remiss of me not to mention that my grandfather also died two weeks ago. It sucks, and he will be fondly remembered by just about everyone he met--even if they'd just drunk his wine--but he hadn't been himself in so many years, and he was really suffering those last few weeks. Rosina and I got to see him in early February, luckily on a good day, so at least we got to cheer him up. I will never smell Old Spice without thinking of him. All this said, his death is not why I'm posting sad songs!)
As I contemplated my blog recently, many months after my last post, I realized what I was really in the mood for was making a mix tape. Yes, an update is due--though the few of you who read here know plenty about my life--but I remembered how much fun I had making mix tapes. All the ridiculous attention paid to artwork and song order... I think the last one I made was for Mark when we first started dating, with many of the songs downloaded from Napster (!!!)--like when it was free and questionably legal--and a preponderance of Foo Fighters. And while I could certainly make dozens of YouTube playlists, maybe it's just cool to drop in a video or two. (Don't I do that a lot here, anyway?)
This came on the radio the other day, and it really is one of only a few songs outside of Puccini that could possibly make me cry. (Another, which has been extremely topical, will follow later/tomorrow.) This video is extremely '90s, but I think the song still really stands up. (Other than the fact that it's certainly harder nowadays to get an abortion in North Carolina...but that is a topic for another day!)
