It occurred to me, though, that my colleagues could have a grim view into my thinking over the past few months based on my i-tunes playlists. When on-line, one can see the music of other i-tunes folk in the building. I don’t think actual playlists show up, which is good for me.
Why? Here are the names of playlists that I used to organize my own music collection. I will leave it to your imagination which songs fell under these categories. Just keep in mind that these developed based on my many moods over the past six months:
Ain’t Moonlight Sad When Love’s Gone Bad?
Billie Holiday – Tragic Drug Years
Campy Classics That Are Camptastic
Cher (Shut-up – It’s genetic, I can’t help it.)
Hating the Ex
Loathing the Ex
Despising the Ex
Abhorring the Ex
Country Music (What? Not all of them have funny titles.)
Evita (A recent exchange with MEK the Bear reminded me that I groove on this soundtrack, even if the real Eva Perón was a literal fascist – but that’s another entry)
Looking Good, Feeling Fabulous
Looking Haggard, Feeling Shitty
Songs in Languages That I Don’t Understand
It's Like That Drug Trip in That Movie I Saw – When I Was on That Drug Trip
Queer Breakup, Two
Music for the Gym
Music for Running
Music for Muscle Fatigue
Music for the Hospital
Refreshing TaB Drinking Music
Treat Me Right
Wasn’t Treated Right
Liar-Ex and the Lies He Told Me
Queenie Dance Music
Why is Ex Still Breathing?
Hmm, I fear I am walking a fine-line here between “gravitas” and “bitter-old-queen.” I better create some playlists entitled “Happy, Happy, Happy,” “Feeling Great,” and “The World is a Little Flower.” Not that I will actually listen to those lists. It’s all about appearance, darlings.
Alright, I will work on that after I return this weekend. I am off to my own version of Paradise Island (a.k.a. New Mexico, a.k.a. The Land of Enchantment, don’t you know?). It will be good to spend some time with the fam and hang with my buddy Danny. I will bring you all a hunk of turquoise as a souvenir.