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A version of me has been here before. Not this version. |
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This is my......bazillionth blog. Maybe it will last... Wish in one hand...  
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| Today is my birthday. Less young, less happy, less fulfilled, less of all the things. More years, less shit. On the plus side - I got tacos, cinnamon rolls, copped a buzz, and was even able to sit gently in the satisfaction of getting shit done. I also got out of a celebration with my parents and sister which is all I ever want…to not do that. Celebrating things with my mother is a blog post on its own - that I am certain isn’t too far off. My house is sitting under a cloud of dysentery or a 13th-century plague. Something terrible - something straight out of every single mother and wife everywhere’s worst nightmares. And I am not even good at that. Mothering sick people, be they children or husbands, is not my jam. I find myself unable to not ask them how they don’t see me powering through. Telling them that life goes on, that sometimes we do shit even when we don’t feel well. That shit might fly when they have runny noses but it feels extra mean when they are actually sick. In Husband A’s case, I suspect it more than feels extra mean. "The Soundtrack of Your Life"  I am gonna work backward here and in December (who am I kidding, starting in November) Kid B and I listened to this on repeat. There is no musical list of my life - no matter the theme - that would not include a Crooner. What is it about some Rat Pack that is so transportative? The world feels black and white with martini dripping off its edges. You can love you a little Harry Connick Jr or Michael Buble (and I do) but the truth is always going to be that they are facsimiles of something a little bit sharper, clearer, easier, and better. “Sounds like Frank,” “Reminds me of Sammy,” ….that kinda says it. And what it says is that you should be listening to Frank and Sammy. (Admittedly there are three more Rat Pack members, however soundtrack of MY life means I am going to reference my two favorites.) We love this song. We love it. We love the one single stutter lyric, it is our favorite part. We love the variation at the end of the chorus that trips up everyone except for us. And man do we fucking get down on spelling out the merriment. We switch from like….private dicks who frequently end sentences with…”see?” but have broken out into song…to chorus line ladies whose jazz hands cannot be contained and have spread to our shoulders (we are generally in the car.) I know the forum instructions are all.. Don’t just say things like, “It's a great song, I love it.” But I have to say that if there was going to be an entry on the soundtrack of my life that could have been summed up in such a way, to me - it is this one because…. Man I fucking love this song. Totally linking the version with the cartoon Frank and singing elves. Why the H-E-double L not? |
| Duuuuude. Someone somewhere has cast a Shakespearean style plague upon my house. I am finally better but it only serves to highlight my terrible, terrible bedside manner. But I live in one of those many houses where only husbands and kids are allowed to be sick. I wrote this Soundtrackers entry yesterday and then literally fell asleep on the couch with my fingers on the keyboard. However, the Soundtracker challenges are usually my very favorites so I am gonna post this shit anyway. "The Soundtrack of Your Life" I started thinking yesterday about what actually makes up the soundtrack of my life, with a theme of what I have been listening to over the past year, and in a haze of fever dreams and the ebbs and flows of that especially surreal semi-sleep, the answer was revealed to me. As I lay there and Husband A watched television rather than...oh, I dunno...parent or take care of their sick mother...what he was watching would permeate my sickness like a thick heavy fog. It would soak in after a few seconds of delay and cover my thoughts. For ....ever...Husband A and I have watched and rewatched and rewatched and rewatched Top Gear. And I mean ....it can play for 48 hours straight at this house before a couple of hours break for something dumb like an Ohio State game. (Husband A would hate it if I didn’t go….O-H…..) We can quote it, we can laugh at the same ass shit as last time, and we can even see tiny shit we haven't seen in the previous thousand viewings. Am I a car girl? HAHAHA. Not even remotely. I don't give a single fuck about cars. Just don't care. Have I learned many many things from Top Gear? Without question. Do they make me care about cars? Nope. But is there something about it as a whole, including the car parts? Fuck yes there is. WAIT! If anyone is reading this and thinking I mean that shoddy wannabe American version then shame on you. A plague upon your house this time. If there is no Jeremy, James, and Richard...that shit isn't fucking Top Gear. So, a clear entry on the soundtrack to my life is the opening music to Top Gear. I couldn't even fathom a guess how many times I have heard it in the last year. Whatever outrageous number I guessed would be found lacking. I am gonna link to the coolest version first. I heard the nasty shit on the radio once and realized it was a real song. I didn't even know it had words and went on past the 17 seconds or whatever. But here is that too. |
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