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:
American Idiot(s)
Angry
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
Queer Breakup
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
Must.Escape.Texas
Liar-Ex and the Lies He Told Me
Queenie Dance Music
Why is Ex Still Breathing?
Movin' On
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.
9 comments:
Enjoy your time out of that cess pool called Texas!!!
And you can add this mix (zip file) in one of the following--Music for the Gym, Music for Running, Queenie Dance music.
I downloaded that .zip, hope you don't mind? I can resist free stuff :)
Can't resist free stuff! Must be friday, half my letters go missing on Fridays. I think they get drunk and show up again on Mondays full of excuses.
Oh no, hang on, that's just me.
Excellent GayProf, I love the multiple ex-hating categories, I'd have those myself I'm sure if I actually moved into this era and had an i-pod, but I digress.
And yes, Evita rocked, being IN Evita rocked more, can you believe it's been 10 years since I did the show and I STILL remember all the spanish lyrics from the opening scene?
Wow, you're so much more clever than I am. And more musically rounded. And a lot more bitter. *LOL* Personally, I'm looking forward to being a bitter old queen. My fag hag and I often discuss how we'll be in the piano bar, drinks in hand, sneering and sniping at everyone else. It'll be good times, I think.
Being a gem collector, would love the hunk of turquoise, but, being a bigger "sexually frustrated" collector (just go with it for the sake of parallelism!), I'd rather you just brought back a "hunk." We could each have a piece! *hehehehe*
I know: you can photograph the turquoise and put it on the blog so that EVERYONE can share. (I was going to say "have a piece", but then the self-edit kicked in.)
I've only recently really begun using playlists. My titles are boring though. I'm a shame to my orientation, I know. But I'll work on it. I promise.
Dear Enchanting Sunshine,
And what's wrong with BITTER? Bitter just means a) you're actually alive and thinking, and b) you're around to kick some butt another day! You don't like bitter? I got some dolls here, then you'll be happy, in a DuPont sorta way.
Hope you had fun down home in Nuevo Mexico! I could sure go for some sopapillas right about now, stuffed with scrambled eggs, yummy! Or maybe some stuffed with eggs and then followed with some drizzled with honey and butter (as my aunt once said to me, over a vat of bubbling lard: "Butter?! Just like your mother! Fat on fat!"). But alas, in Cold City they're called "beignets" and they generally suck!
Love, Angel of the Night
Currently listening to:
"Half Life" Sneaker Pimps
Hmm, I have one playlist. That's sad. Usually I just plu my iPod into my computer speakers at work and hit shuffle.
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