I got very close to this about ten years ago when I worked in the rubber stamp store downtown. I was almost into a 14 on a permanent basis. When I had started working there I was a 22. I got down to a 16 within two years and was well on the way to a 14 when the class reunion happened and then things went south.
I wasn't even trying to lose weight. I was just trying to get more energy to spend more and more time alone in the store as I was being left with more and more responsibilities. I ended up on the Jared diet because there was a Subway across the street and I wasn't home enough to prep meals ahead of time. Pretty soon... Huzzah!!
Now this time I started at a 20 and within a few months of being at the hotel I was into an 18, 16 a few short weeks after that... hit a plateau and now I am down into a 14. I wonder if I can find that size in the thrift stores. I really want to have a brand new pair of jeans from Catherines (fat lady shop). Its a size 2. Its a great fitting pair of jeans and it is the lowest size they even stock. After that I am onto the regular sizes and on the way to sizes I only dreamed of while feeding my face with four egg omelettes. I know. And I don't even like eggs that much. But that was what I did as a preteen. Only thing I knew I knew how to make.
I don't feel like I should be in a 14 just because there is so little muscle tone under the skin. Most likely that has about 75% to do with the inability to be fast. I was pretty good when I first lost weight but without muscle tone I am moving the same amount of force with less power... like having a clogged air filter on the car. Unfortunately building the muscle requires two things I now don't have... money and time to hit the gym. Oh crumbs!
But... I am in a 14 and likely to hit a 12 by January.
Yea me!
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
hibernation
I disagree with the Tesh: I hibernate when the weather gets brisk. I am fairly dead to the world when it is bitter cold. We may live in a modern world but I have a circadian rythmn that doesn't give a fig what the rest of the modern civilized world is doing.
The chill wind that whips through the subdivision, winding between ill spaced homes whistles passed my window in the morning and I want to stay under the covers all day. It was a chore to get up this morning. My warm bed smelled like lavendar and vanilla Tide. Since I have yet to put up plastic on the windows, I also got a wiff of pomegrante running passed my frosty red nose. I could have laid in bed all day and listened to classical music. It will be all I can do to want to work this winter... Despite being out of work last and feeling the need to work.
I am committed to working 5 evenings in my friend Kathy's store. She offered becasue I know I am going to be fired soon. I can't clean fast enough for the upper most management. And if I don't get fired my shoulder will give out. My humorous bone feel like it wants to break about 3 inches below the shoulder... I guess it's all the sheet snapping from making so many damn beds. I have committed to this because I really want to work in the store but also because Kathy has been a great friend with all the brother stuff. But also because the less I am in the house the less my life hurts. Oh, yes, that is running away thank you.
I like to call it a strategic retreat. It is only temporary. But it is necessary. If I have to live with this situation for much longer... I need a mental break.
The chill wind that whips through the subdivision, winding between ill spaced homes whistles passed my window in the morning and I want to stay under the covers all day. It was a chore to get up this morning. My warm bed smelled like lavendar and vanilla Tide. Since I have yet to put up plastic on the windows, I also got a wiff of pomegrante running passed my frosty red nose. I could have laid in bed all day and listened to classical music. It will be all I can do to want to work this winter... Despite being out of work last and feeling the need to work.
I am committed to working 5 evenings in my friend Kathy's store. She offered becasue I know I am going to be fired soon. I can't clean fast enough for the upper most management. And if I don't get fired my shoulder will give out. My humorous bone feel like it wants to break about 3 inches below the shoulder... I guess it's all the sheet snapping from making so many damn beds. I have committed to this because I really want to work in the store but also because Kathy has been a great friend with all the brother stuff. But also because the less I am in the house the less my life hurts. Oh, yes, that is running away thank you.
I like to call it a strategic retreat. It is only temporary. But it is necessary. If I have to live with this situation for much longer... I need a mental break.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
not what Rich Mullins meant
We aren't alone in the world.
And I am not weird... if I am then I have a lot of company in the weird department. Did you look at what Rule 29 Posted today? In short: she started drinking Earl Grey Tea, Hot because that's what Picard always ordered from the replicator.
I confess to the same. But, as Starstuff says: not any old Earl will do. Not all teas are created equal, beginning with the variety of plant, harvest methods, cut and processing and then the brewing. I've had some pretty awful tea... an earl Grey that tasted like wet and spoiled straw. Yes... it does go bad to the point where it isn't feed but bedding. We'll save that for later. Teas that taste like rotten straw are not good.
I like a citrus tea but not orange pekoe. I adore hibiscus (yes its a flower) and fruit teas. But I find that I am only buying expensive teas... teas with a reputation. Tazo is the best brand of common uncommonly good brands. Sapphara is great but at 8.00/20 bags it is a special treat and not an everyday drink. In other words... as I am a coffee geek, disdaining instant crystals, I am a tea geek, disdaining bottled brew and uber inferior crystal teas.
It's all Picard's fault. And I know of three other people, also hopeful NaNo writers and sci-fi geeks who have a similar tea habit that can be traced to the esteemable Captain. My drinking chocolat habit comes from Victoria magazine however... Deanna Troi must have borrowed from them as well:)
And I am not weird... if I am then I have a lot of company in the weird department. Did you look at what Rule 29 Posted today? In short: she started drinking Earl Grey Tea, Hot because that's what Picard always ordered from the replicator.
I confess to the same. But, as Starstuff says: not any old Earl will do. Not all teas are created equal, beginning with the variety of plant, harvest methods, cut and processing and then the brewing. I've had some pretty awful tea... an earl Grey that tasted like wet and spoiled straw. Yes... it does go bad to the point where it isn't feed but bedding. We'll save that for later. Teas that taste like rotten straw are not good.
I like a citrus tea but not orange pekoe. I adore hibiscus (yes its a flower) and fruit teas. But I find that I am only buying expensive teas... teas with a reputation. Tazo is the best brand of common uncommonly good brands. Sapphara is great but at 8.00/20 bags it is a special treat and not an everyday drink. In other words... as I am a coffee geek, disdaining instant crystals, I am a tea geek, disdaining bottled brew and uber inferior crystal teas.
It's all Picard's fault. And I know of three other people, also hopeful NaNo writers and sci-fi geeks who have a similar tea habit that can be traced to the esteemable Captain. My drinking chocolat habit comes from Victoria magazine however... Deanna Troi must have borrowed from them as well:)
in which Schindler's list fails to save my ass
I just posted a comment on Wheaton's blog about a silly, perverse and seriously wrong Hugh Grant poster. I'm sure it was not authorized. Anyway... that post leads to this admission of Geekdom...
I have a notebook with every movie I own in it. Yes... I have a list of movies. They are not alphabetically organized within a dewey decimal for movies system. But they are organized in such a way as to make me into a huge geek... beyond the pale.
First by genre: British/BBC, sci-fi, classic lit, 80's pop, tv by genre; action, mystery, sitcom, cartoons/kids programs. Within each genre, movies are further organized by actors.
I put them into a notebook so that I could keep track of what I have to make shopping easier... no dupes. Once I get hooked on an actor then I tend to find everything that they have done that is still in print.
I could be so obsessive as to put it all alphabetically like Meg Ryan in when Harry met Sally. But I watch tv by season and mood. Sadly, I even cross referenced seasonal episodes and movies by holidays to make it easy to overdose on Halloween and Christmas: VanHelsing, the Bride and several unsuccessful costume party episodes of Frasier for Halloween. For Christmas, Patrick Stewart's Christmas Carol, White Christmas, Holiday Inn, severeal botched family gatherings at 1901 Elliot Bay Towers (Frasier), the epsidoe where MacGyver makes eggnog in chemistry set before he and his Grampa Harry take off for a hockey game only to be stalked in the Phoenix building, the episode where Holmes and Watson chase down a Christmas Goose to retrieve the Blue Carbuncle... you know all the classics.
I am so a geek...
I have a notebook with every movie I own in it. Yes... I have a list of movies. They are not alphabetically organized within a dewey decimal for movies system. But they are organized in such a way as to make me into a huge geek... beyond the pale.
First by genre: British/BBC, sci-fi, classic lit, 80's pop, tv by genre; action, mystery, sitcom, cartoons/kids programs. Within each genre, movies are further organized by actors.
I put them into a notebook so that I could keep track of what I have to make shopping easier... no dupes. Once I get hooked on an actor then I tend to find everything that they have done that is still in print.
I could be so obsessive as to put it all alphabetically like Meg Ryan in when Harry met Sally. But I watch tv by season and mood. Sadly, I even cross referenced seasonal episodes and movies by holidays to make it easy to overdose on Halloween and Christmas: VanHelsing, the Bride and several unsuccessful costume party episodes of Frasier for Halloween. For Christmas, Patrick Stewart's Christmas Carol, White Christmas, Holiday Inn, severeal botched family gatherings at 1901 Elliot Bay Towers (Frasier), the epsidoe where MacGyver makes eggnog in chemistry set before he and his Grampa Harry take off for a hockey game only to be stalked in the Phoenix building, the episode where Holmes and Watson chase down a Christmas Goose to retrieve the Blue Carbuncle... you know all the classics.
I am so a geek...
Too personal to blog
I have been absent from the blogosphere for many days as I have been doing a classic Me move... overthinking things. Again, stemming from an encounter with the brother, I have to realize several things that are unhealthy in this relationship. He is the master of the mind fuck and I am not. I am a healer. I want to fix everything for everyone. And the absolute worst human trait to possess he possesses.
He could heal people with his abilities. He choses to use them for evil. He is profecient in reading people over time, learning what their hot button issues are and finding just the right words and tone to infiltrate the psyche. This is not a bad ability in and of itself. But, and I quote, With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility. Here he takes a page from Vader's book... well probably more likely Darth Maul... he uses it to twist people to his way of thinking. Then, just when the victim is certain that they have given what was ordered... the orders change.
He knows that I want a Rainbow Unicorn Gumdrop world in which everyone is what and who they were created by G'd to be... not the programmable nanobots in this fakey money driven world. And he keeps letting me think that I am getting to him. That maybe one day I will save him.
On my part: this is stupid. THAT above anything else I have been accused of is pride and arrogance. No one is saved that does not ask to be saved.
The least painful aspect of the encounter that I can share is this: Over the course of the last ten years both of my siblings have been begging and pleading with me to be anything that will pay money for real, and show real profits instead of deduction assissted losses. Be anything that isn't an artist. I did that in May when I had no other recourse. I didn't tell anyone that I got the job until I was happy and, I thought, secure and strong enough into the new life direction. Then I told him. The very first words out of his mouth are embedded in my grey matter forever. "That's great;" expression becomes pensive,"but it isn't art is it?"
When I had decided to say something, I had that same fruitless hope of a lottery ticket purchaser has when they plunk down a dollar on "THE WINNING TICKET". When the numbers came up I was a loser again. It was several weeks before I spoke to him again.
He and his wife came to the house. He had an idea that he wanted me to get behind. His hook was this... "Imagine what 50,000.00 can do to start your business." In ten years that has been the first hint of approval regarding my chosen direction. But wait there is more.
Not for a minute did I believe him. I know that this would be another Lucy yanks the football from Chuck moment. He is an expert at those as well. So another few months has gone by. He is in charge of the estate. Now he thinks he is in charge of everyone else's life. I chose to play the one card that I thought would buy me some time. I know it is a fabrication... and to tell an untruth is so not Vulcan. But I needed to buy time. It was the only currency with which I could pay. I told him that he and Pam won. That I had no intention of being an artist any more. I was tired of trying and having artificial roadblocks in my way. He won. Leave me alone.
Do you know what he did next? I was completely unprepared for this, which accounts for part of what I had been overthinking. He spent the next FOUR hours telling me all the ways that I could be an artist. Among those things... Auction it off; donate it to some cause, even if it only goes for $4.00." "Give it away." But he insisted, I could still be what I want to be, just not have it be a full time job.
I gave him what he wanted. Tears and all. Frustration and all. And he turned on me. Normally when he gets what he wants he backs away. Or maybe he doesn't. Maybe that is how he wrests ultimate control from someone... maybe the ultimate control for him is to be able to have the power to restore someone to where they had been when he started to take away... only to take back again. I had not counted on it. And I put too much effort into the fabrication.
So here is what I have learned from this: First, this kind of dissembling is BAD! It looks like simple acting. But because this involves people who know you well and can tell when you are lying you have to do more than get into character. You have to believe what you say. You have to be the person who has lost all confidence in yourself and believes what you have been told : You are the fuck up. From a long line of fuck ups. You have to believe that your dreams aren't worth shit. You have to believe, as he does, that once a fuck up always a fuck up. You are Marty McFly with no Doc Brown on your side.
I can not tell you what that kind of dissembling does to the Chakras. Pain. Not any good kind of pain that says "Oooh, you should put Bactine on that." or "I better get a bandaid." It is the kind of pain that makes strong men plead for death at the hands of a sworn enemy. This kind of pain makes a Klingon mating ritual look like two angels engaged in a chaste kiss. I would have taken a bath in vitriol to make the pain go away if I'd been near a tub.
Second: the only thing you can do with someone like this is get away. Even if that means leaving all your possessions, relinquishing your hereditary rights, changing your name and joining the Amish-or a Kibbutz-or a Camel Caravan-or selling yourself to the gypsies-or signing on the the Foreign Legion-volunteering for a Harem-Asian White slave market- or [shuddering] marry a Ferengi Trade Vessel Captain.
Walk away from potentially 60,000? Am I nuts? Yes. I am six kinds of desperate nuts to get away from this. The more I see what has been going on forever in this sick family, the more I read about people wh ohave support for what they are... the more I see that this has to end. I have been unsuccessful in everything I have done "their" way. When I went my own way i did fine until an unfortunate mishap with some wedding vows. But I know better now. I can't be manipulated into that again and I can't sacrifice me for a guy. I won't.
Granted I am not yet ready to leave all my stuff behind. I am still trying to figure out a way to keep it all. But I am rapidly running out of options. Necessity is the mother of invention... it is necessary to reinvent myself before I run out of genetic material to work with. So yes... 60,000 for freedom? All that will remain after that is too learn to be okay with leaving his wife in this situation. She choses to make all kinds of consessions to him of a Christian forgiveness logic. I can't save her because she is bent on saving him. So when I manage the guilt and let it go I can go.
People like him only want total control of someone or something becasue they perceive they lack the kind of control in their own life that makes sense to them. A lack of personal perspective or value beyond a fiduciary measure contributes to this kind of abusive power. He neither sees that it is abuse or that it lies within him.
But, he promised Dad to quit getting in my way and to undo all the constraints that were placed on me. Dad saw the truth of G'ds opinion of me as he lay dying. Bro attributes the promise to a kind of deathly delusion and thus has revoked his pledge to make repairs on dad's and his own behalf. So I will renounce my pledge to keep attempting to make this work.
If a psychic is good for anything, even though in many places this has been labled a sin, they can tell you when a deathbed promise has been recanted by the decedent. There is alot that goes on with them on the other side that if we could know about it here, would clear up so many misconceptions. But alas... someone misunderstood the difference between witchery and spiritual connections to G'd himself. there was afterall not alot of difference between Samuel and the With of Endor... at least in the movie David. And I suspect that was the only truly accurate thing in the movie despite a brilliant performance from Leonard Nimoy.
If this is too personal to post... imagine what goes on in my paper journal that I don't post. The world needs to be very glad that I have not chosen the darkside.
He could heal people with his abilities. He choses to use them for evil. He is profecient in reading people over time, learning what their hot button issues are and finding just the right words and tone to infiltrate the psyche. This is not a bad ability in and of itself. But, and I quote, With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility. Here he takes a page from Vader's book... well probably more likely Darth Maul... he uses it to twist people to his way of thinking. Then, just when the victim is certain that they have given what was ordered... the orders change.
He knows that I want a Rainbow Unicorn Gumdrop world in which everyone is what and who they were created by G'd to be... not the programmable nanobots in this fakey money driven world. And he keeps letting me think that I am getting to him. That maybe one day I will save him.
On my part: this is stupid. THAT above anything else I have been accused of is pride and arrogance. No one is saved that does not ask to be saved.
The least painful aspect of the encounter that I can share is this: Over the course of the last ten years both of my siblings have been begging and pleading with me to be anything that will pay money for real, and show real profits instead of deduction assissted losses. Be anything that isn't an artist. I did that in May when I had no other recourse. I didn't tell anyone that I got the job until I was happy and, I thought, secure and strong enough into the new life direction. Then I told him. The very first words out of his mouth are embedded in my grey matter forever. "That's great;" expression becomes pensive,"but it isn't art is it?"
When I had decided to say something, I had that same fruitless hope of a lottery ticket purchaser has when they plunk down a dollar on "THE WINNING TICKET". When the numbers came up I was a loser again. It was several weeks before I spoke to him again.
He and his wife came to the house. He had an idea that he wanted me to get behind. His hook was this... "Imagine what 50,000.00 can do to start your business." In ten years that has been the first hint of approval regarding my chosen direction. But wait there is more.
Not for a minute did I believe him. I know that this would be another Lucy yanks the football from Chuck moment. He is an expert at those as well. So another few months has gone by. He is in charge of the estate. Now he thinks he is in charge of everyone else's life. I chose to play the one card that I thought would buy me some time. I know it is a fabrication... and to tell an untruth is so not Vulcan. But I needed to buy time. It was the only currency with which I could pay. I told him that he and Pam won. That I had no intention of being an artist any more. I was tired of trying and having artificial roadblocks in my way. He won. Leave me alone.
Do you know what he did next? I was completely unprepared for this, which accounts for part of what I had been overthinking. He spent the next FOUR hours telling me all the ways that I could be an artist. Among those things... Auction it off; donate it to some cause, even if it only goes for $4.00." "Give it away." But he insisted, I could still be what I want to be, just not have it be a full time job.
I gave him what he wanted. Tears and all. Frustration and all. And he turned on me. Normally when he gets what he wants he backs away. Or maybe he doesn't. Maybe that is how he wrests ultimate control from someone... maybe the ultimate control for him is to be able to have the power to restore someone to where they had been when he started to take away... only to take back again. I had not counted on it. And I put too much effort into the fabrication.
So here is what I have learned from this: First, this kind of dissembling is BAD! It looks like simple acting. But because this involves people who know you well and can tell when you are lying you have to do more than get into character. You have to believe what you say. You have to be the person who has lost all confidence in yourself and believes what you have been told : You are the fuck up. From a long line of fuck ups. You have to believe that your dreams aren't worth shit. You have to believe, as he does, that once a fuck up always a fuck up. You are Marty McFly with no Doc Brown on your side.
I can not tell you what that kind of dissembling does to the Chakras. Pain. Not any good kind of pain that says "Oooh, you should put Bactine on that." or "I better get a bandaid." It is the kind of pain that makes strong men plead for death at the hands of a sworn enemy. This kind of pain makes a Klingon mating ritual look like two angels engaged in a chaste kiss. I would have taken a bath in vitriol to make the pain go away if I'd been near a tub.
Second: the only thing you can do with someone like this is get away. Even if that means leaving all your possessions, relinquishing your hereditary rights, changing your name and joining the Amish-or a Kibbutz-or a Camel Caravan-or selling yourself to the gypsies-or signing on the the Foreign Legion-volunteering for a Harem-Asian White slave market- or [shuddering] marry a Ferengi Trade Vessel Captain.
Walk away from potentially 60,000? Am I nuts? Yes. I am six kinds of desperate nuts to get away from this. The more I see what has been going on forever in this sick family, the more I read about people wh ohave support for what they are... the more I see that this has to end. I have been unsuccessful in everything I have done "their" way. When I went my own way i did fine until an unfortunate mishap with some wedding vows. But I know better now. I can't be manipulated into that again and I can't sacrifice me for a guy. I won't.
Granted I am not yet ready to leave all my stuff behind. I am still trying to figure out a way to keep it all. But I am rapidly running out of options. Necessity is the mother of invention... it is necessary to reinvent myself before I run out of genetic material to work with. So yes... 60,000 for freedom? All that will remain after that is too learn to be okay with leaving his wife in this situation. She choses to make all kinds of consessions to him of a Christian forgiveness logic. I can't save her because she is bent on saving him. So when I manage the guilt and let it go I can go.
People like him only want total control of someone or something becasue they perceive they lack the kind of control in their own life that makes sense to them. A lack of personal perspective or value beyond a fiduciary measure contributes to this kind of abusive power. He neither sees that it is abuse or that it lies within him.
But, he promised Dad to quit getting in my way and to undo all the constraints that were placed on me. Dad saw the truth of G'ds opinion of me as he lay dying. Bro attributes the promise to a kind of deathly delusion and thus has revoked his pledge to make repairs on dad's and his own behalf. So I will renounce my pledge to keep attempting to make this work.
If a psychic is good for anything, even though in many places this has been labled a sin, they can tell you when a deathbed promise has been recanted by the decedent. There is alot that goes on with them on the other side that if we could know about it here, would clear up so many misconceptions. But alas... someone misunderstood the difference between witchery and spiritual connections to G'd himself. there was afterall not alot of difference between Samuel and the With of Endor... at least in the movie David. And I suspect that was the only truly accurate thing in the movie despite a brilliant performance from Leonard Nimoy.
If this is too personal to post... imagine what goes on in my paper journal that I don't post. The world needs to be very glad that I have not chosen the darkside.
after I spoke too soon
Le Freak say Chic.
Okay... I acknowledge it was one of the latest disco songs released. And it was released in the 80's.. 80, 81 somewhere in there. This may have been Disco's last gasp. BUT IT IS DISCO! It is not what one thinks of when one thinks of quintessential 80's music.
This is not the Police.
This is not the Flock.
This is not ABC, Oingo Boing, Nena, Aha, Michael Jackson, Jan Hammer, Berlin, Duran Duran, Psychedelic Furs, Bananarama, The Bangles, Go-go's and B-52's.
This is freaking DISCO!
I still love cafe80's. But I remind you... slippery slope... and Marc Sommers is at the podium laughing his ass off that it's you and not him covered in green slime.
Okay... I acknowledge it was one of the latest disco songs released. And it was released in the 80's.. 80, 81 somewhere in there. This may have been Disco's last gasp. BUT IT IS DISCO! It is not what one thinks of when one thinks of quintessential 80's music.
This is not the Police.
This is not the Flock.
This is not ABC, Oingo Boing, Nena, Aha, Michael Jackson, Jan Hammer, Berlin, Duran Duran, Psychedelic Furs, Bananarama, The Bangles, Go-go's and B-52's.
This is freaking DISCO!
I still love cafe80's. But I remind you... slippery slope... and Marc Sommers is at the podium laughing his ass off that it's you and not him covered in green slime.
geek radio
So here I am at Beaners again and I am listening to a radio station out of Germany. I found it while doing the family research thing. Suddenly a song that I have not heard in 20 years plays. I recognize it in seconds... my brain already has my mouth in synch as I sing along. I don't consciously know the song title or artist yet. I also forgot where I was and started singing outloud... auf deutsch!
It happened again today. http://www.cafe80s.de/ played SOS "ruhf mich an..." by Munschen Freiheit. The other day is was the Spider Murphy Gang with "Ich Schau dich an". Both of these songs are from a tape (cassette) that Messalina Mueller made for me when she was here as an exchange student. I love Cafe 80's. Right now I am listening to a Flock of Seagulls extended play song that I have never heard of before. Silly me I thought the only thing they did was "I Ran" And I've heard songs from Aha's second American release "Scoundrel Days". That tape wound itself in a care stereo in 1989... but I still know the words enough to sing along even if I can't hit Mortens' high notes. Hell even Morten can't hit his notes anymore... not without a vice grip.
And yes... he still tries.
So radio geek is getting her 80's grove on. And to the best of my knowledge not even Wil Wheaton knows about this one. The coolest thing about this station is that there is a healthy mix of American and German releases and there is ABSOLUTELY NO KID ROCK! Our local 80's station, the Fox, justifies it because his mash up incorporates a classic early 80's song with a classic late 70's song. So it goes. This is after they decided that the 80's started in 75 and spilled into the middle 90's. ACG would say that a numeric division shouldn't set the division in music styles but the style itself should determine the musical age. At least I think he would say that. But that is a slippery station programming slope. If you can go to 75 why not 74, 73, 72, 69? If mid 90's why not 2000, 2005?
Selfishly I say because my requests were rejected and my logic not quite logical enough. As in, Sting was with the Police, they made music in the 80's, they were 80's artists so the new songs should be fair game. I was wrong therefore by extrapolation... they are wrong.
So what is the best thing about 80's music? "It's got a great beat and I can type to it."
It happened again today. http://www.cafe80s.de/ played SOS "ruhf mich an..." by Munschen Freiheit. The other day is was the Spider Murphy Gang with "Ich Schau dich an". Both of these songs are from a tape (cassette) that Messalina Mueller made for me when she was here as an exchange student. I love Cafe 80's. Right now I am listening to a Flock of Seagulls extended play song that I have never heard of before. Silly me I thought the only thing they did was "I Ran" And I've heard songs from Aha's second American release "Scoundrel Days". That tape wound itself in a care stereo in 1989... but I still know the words enough to sing along even if I can't hit Mortens' high notes. Hell even Morten can't hit his notes anymore... not without a vice grip.
And yes... he still tries.
So radio geek is getting her 80's grove on. And to the best of my knowledge not even Wil Wheaton knows about this one. The coolest thing about this station is that there is a healthy mix of American and German releases and there is ABSOLUTELY NO KID ROCK! Our local 80's station, the Fox, justifies it because his mash up incorporates a classic early 80's song with a classic late 70's song. So it goes. This is after they decided that the 80's started in 75 and spilled into the middle 90's. ACG would say that a numeric division shouldn't set the division in music styles but the style itself should determine the musical age. At least I think he would say that. But that is a slippery station programming slope. If you can go to 75 why not 74, 73, 72, 69? If mid 90's why not 2000, 2005?
Selfishly I say because my requests were rejected and my logic not quite logical enough. As in, Sting was with the Police, they made music in the 80's, they were 80's artists so the new songs should be fair game. I was wrong therefore by extrapolation... they are wrong.
So what is the best thing about 80's music? "It's got a great beat and I can type to it."
No No NaNo
Just a bit too much going on to commit to Wri Mo this year. But, people be warned... I am going to plan on this for next year. I may hit you all up for monetary support or, MOST likely, emotional support. So here is my one year to Wri Mo pledge:
- I will not be afraid to suck
- I will suck in ways grandiose infinitesimal
- I will write until my fingers bleed
- I will write until your fingers bleed
- I will make you cry with my wrenching soul-probing observations on the human condition
- I will make you cry with breathtaking run-on-sentances; precariously perched participles scrabbling to maintain their position in a sentance; ruthless alliteration and glaring inconsistensies in tense, grammar and spelling so horrible every english teacher in the course of human history will beg to be staked through the heart in their graves.
- Most of all... I will finish all 50,000 words.
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