I love music. I listen to music constantly and if I don’t have some form of music playing, I get a little antsy. I have been known to listen to the ring tones on my cell phone when desperate. That being said, here are ten songs that I currently can’t get enough of. In no particular order, here we go:
“Seemed Like the Thing to Do” by Dinosaur Jr.
Dinosaur Jr. is one of my more recent “discoveries” thanks to Guitar Hero. (I’m not ashamed to admit it) I'm a little late "discovering" them as they've been around for a while, but I already love them. Their song “Feel the Pain” is featured on Guitar Hero: World Tour and Rock Band 2, and while I do love that song; it’s this offering from the same 1994 album, Without a Sound, which I’m really digging.
“I Wish” by Skee-Lo
Released in 1995 and the title track of his first album, Skee-Lo raps about how he wishes he was just a little bit taller. I love doing my signature lame dance moves to this song, even when I’m rocking out in my office and my coworkers can see me.
“Pretend That You’re All Alone” by Keane
This is on Keane’s 2008 album, Perfect Symmetry. This is fun because it's got an awesome beat and a nice peppy sound. I like to play this when I’m in my office. It's perfect for when I'm ready to go off on someone because it calms me down and gets my head boppin'.
“Promise” by Eve 6
On the same 2000 album, Horrorscope, as the better known “Here’s to the Night”, but still a hit in its own right, “Promise” is a fun song to listen to.
“Best I Ever Had (Grey Sky Morning)” by Vertical Horizon
This appeared on the 1999 Everything You Want album, but was not released as a single until 2001. I LOVE this song. It’s not technically a love song, but a good reflection on love lost. I seriously can’t get enough of this song. I play it ALL THE TIME.
“Human” by The Killers
A super-fun dance track from The Killers’ 2008 album, Day & Age, this song rocks my world. I’m pleased to say that I have this single on a 45 rpm which is on WHITE vinyl. Totally cool!
“Starlight” by Muse
You didn’t think I could do a list of songs I love without mentioning Muse, did you? Silly reader. I love me some Muse! “Starlight” is from Muse’s 2006 album Black Holes & Revelations and is one of my absolute favorite songs by this band. Even though it’s a total larynx-shredder (mad props to Matthew Bellamy for being able to rock this), I love belting it out in my car. I am proud to say that I have this song on a 45 rpm as well (limited edition picture record: Yay me!)
“Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door” by Guns’N’Roses
This Bob Dylan cover appeared on the 1991 album Use Your Illusion II, after being a regular in GNR’s live shows. “Knockin’” is a rare song about dying that doesn’t sound morbid. I can listen to this song over and over again without getting depressed, thanks to Axel Rose’s singing.
“Incredulous Love” by Demophon
As of now, this song is unreleased. Demophon is a band that is made up of a good friend of mine. This song is on his Myspace music page and I simply can’t get enough of it. The only thing preventing me from rocking out to it more is that it’s currently limited to the music page, however; I have been PROMISED a CD of completed tracks. I highly recommend you go to the website and have a listen to “Incredulous Love” as well as the other tracks. www.myspace.com/demophonmusic
“If You Seek Amy” by Britney Spears
This one is the upcoming third single from the 2008 album, Circus. This seems like it could be innocuous, however, once you listen to the lyrics, Britney is actually being pretty naughty. I’m actually surprised that this one is the third single – I would have thought the censors wouldn’t have let this through. This is one of my favorite tracks from Britney’s second comeback album and it totally rocks. “Amy” is another song I like to goof off and dance to in my office. (My poor co-workers.)
This list isn’t all-inclusive – I’ve got a ton of songs that I’m loving right now. These are just top on my list. If you don’t like them, too bad. It’s my blog. :D
I just noticed that there are a lot of power ballads on this list. What can I say? They rock.
**Update 1/12:
I seem to have left these off of my list. MY BAD.
“Pony (It’s Okay)” by Erin McCarley
One of my co-workers told me about this song last week. I downloaded it from iTunes and have not been able to stop playing it since. Just because I neglected to include this song in no way diminishes my total infatuation. Check out her late 2008 debut album Love, Save the Empty. She sounds like Sara Bareilles - which, while I'm not a fan of Sara, is apparently not a bad thing.
"Mansard Roof" by Vampire Weekend
I really don't know how I neglected Vampire Weekend. If I was Catholic, I'd go to Confession. "Roof" is an AWESOME song. Vampire Weekend is an eclectic mix of African pop and Western classical music and the resulting sound kicks MAJOR bootay. "Roof" is from VW's eponymous first album, released early 2008. If you haven't picked it up, DO IT.
"Exit Music (For a Film)" by Radiohead
"Exit Music" plays at the end (fittingly) of Baz Luhrman's Romeo and Juliet and is amay-zuh-zing. While not on any of the R&J soundtracks, "Exit Music" shows up on Radiohead's 1997 album OK Computer. This song is dark and brooding and I love it.
"Talk Tonight" by Oasis
This 1995 song was a B-side to another favorite song, "Some Might Say" and was included on the B-side compilation album, The Masterplan, released in 1998. "Talk" was written during a tough time in Oasis' history (there's a shock) and is basically about how someone talked Noel Gallagher out of jumping off the ledge. It seems like it would be a bit dark, but "Talk" is so heartfelt and open, it's not too depressing.
Last but not least:
"Sunday Morning Call" by Oasis
"Sunday" is one of my absolute favorite songs. Out of all the songs that are on my favorites list, this one is high up there. I'm very pleased to say that I have this song on a 12-inch single (vinyl, for you un-initiated) The only down part of my acquisition: the single has NEVER been opened. I CAN'T open it. I just can't. So I have to just look at it. But it's okay. "Sunday" is from the 2000 album Standing on the Shoulder of Giants, which sadly, was critically panned. But do I care? NOOOOOO! (Oasis is one of my favorite bands ever, so don't be so shocked they show up here twice.)
I considered just waiting to do another what I'm listening to post, but didn't know when that would be. So ergo, the update. Don't get pissy. :D
Friday, January 9, 2009
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Dating 101
Dating is supposed to be fun, right? Dinner and a movie; bowling; a sporting event; miniature golf; concerts; what’s not fun about those activities? The basic idea is for you get to know someone and decide if you want to spend more time with that person, and if not, hopefully you had a good time and made a friend. If you didn’t have a good time and make a new friend, well then, I’m sorry for you. Now you know what you don’t like.
But when you’re dating, you constantly wonder where you stand. Now women, we usually dissect and discuss our most recent dates ad nauseum. We go over every look, touch, gesture, and voice inflection until the date has been pulled into pieces, and we get EVERYONE's opinions. The questions “Does he like me? Is he going to call me today? What did he mean when he said…?” are repeated over and over with no real satisfying answer. (Or until our girlfriends get sick of the subject and start saying “Just ASK HIM what that meant!”)
Men are pretty straightforward. If they like you, they call. To quote an upcoming movie: If he’s not calling you, not sleeping with you, not marrying you, then he’s JUST NOT INTO YOU. Men pretty much know what they want. And that is fantastic.
But what about those few and far between guys who don’t seem to know what they want? What about those guys who send mixed signals? What about those guys that seem genuinely interested but then sporadically call you? Why does the chase seem to be all that some men want? What is so fulfilling about the chase?? If you’re LDS, as I am, the CHASE doesn’t get you anything! Hello! The CATCH does! Remember how much more fun playing Tag was when you caught the person???
Don’t worry, men. I’m not just going to bag on you in this. It’s not like women are open books. I should know. I am one, so I know all of our tricks and have made good use of them. I know how to make full use of the sidelong glance, the slow smile…and what we REALLY mean when we say we’re “fine”. (“Fine” is NEVER good, for those men who haven’t been the recipient of one of those “what women really mean” e-mails. You don’t want to hear a woman say she’s “fine” because she’s not.)
See, we women are pretty wily. We’ll act like we’re innocent, all wide eyes and blushes, but we know what we’re doing. We know how to make you want us and if we don’t want you, then we know how to make you NOT want us. Ever seen “How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days”? There’s some truth to that movie. Women are confusing and yeah, sometimes we play games. But hey, men: SO DO YOU.
I’ve gotten some flak for not accepting every date offer I’ve gotten. Some people have said, if a guy has the balls to ask you out, he deserves a date. Maybe that’s true. But I figure, why should I waste some poor guy’s time and money when I know that I’m not going to want to go on that second date? And who wants to go on a pity date??
So I let guys down nice and easy, because I’ve been declined before myself and I have been the pity date. It sucks. But I don’t let the guy think that he has a chance when he doesn’t. So guys: don’t lead us on and make us think we have a shot when we don’t. That sucks, too.
Ahhhh, dating.
So you go out on the first date and you have a good time. Then when you do go out with someone on that second date, then third, fourth, and so on, it’s practically the equivalent of another Geneva Convention when determining if you’re “official” or not. Witnesses must be called, boundary lines drawn, and neutral territories established. Defining the Relationship talks can be unpleasant because that’s when one or both parties reveal just how COMMITTED they are. It’s pretty hard to find out that you are more into the other person than they are into you.
If you’ve gotten past the DTR stage and came out with a significant other, it’s not like you can rest on your laurels. Oh no. You have to worry about ANNIVERSARIES. Lucky for whomever I date, I am not one of those girls who celebrate how many weeks it’s been since we first held hands, kissed, or wore the same color shirts by accident and thus proving how perfect for each other we are. (To be honest, I can barely remember what days that kind of stuff happens, let alone remember to celebrate it!)
Don’t take my rant the wrong way. Dating can be a ton of fun. I am very into dating. I wish I did more of it. Wooo! Go dating! It’s nice having a significant other. It’s awesome having someone who wants to be seen in public with you, who will hold your hand while walking down the street, and who wants to make out with you more than once. (WOOO! Making out! Yeah!)
But being the Crazy Cat Lady is becoming more and more of an attractive, and let’s face it; inevitable, alternative to dating these days. With cats, you never have to worry about where you stand. It’s simple: they’re the boss. You’re the bringer of food, the lap provider, and ear scratcher. A DTR is not necessary. Really, any talking is not necessary with a cat. Cats actually prefer that you don’t talk to them. They already know they own you.
I guess what I’m really trying to say here is that regardless of what gender you are (or prefer), the Golden Rule should really apply to dating (as well as everything else.) If you don’t want to be jerked around, then don’t jerk other people around. If you want someone to treat you with respect, then you need to treat them with respect. If you don't want someone to play games with you, well maybe you need to re-evaluate and see if you're the one playing games. Are you picking up what I’m putting down? Is the sprinkler hitting the grass? Do you see how this works?
Don’t say you’re playing Tag if all you’re doing is running.
Peace, love, and much chocolate to all.
But when you’re dating, you constantly wonder where you stand. Now women, we usually dissect and discuss our most recent dates ad nauseum. We go over every look, touch, gesture, and voice inflection until the date has been pulled into pieces, and we get EVERYONE's opinions. The questions “Does he like me? Is he going to call me today? What did he mean when he said…?” are repeated over and over with no real satisfying answer. (Or until our girlfriends get sick of the subject and start saying “Just ASK HIM what that meant!”)
Men are pretty straightforward. If they like you, they call. To quote an upcoming movie: If he’s not calling you, not sleeping with you, not marrying you, then he’s JUST NOT INTO YOU. Men pretty much know what they want. And that is fantastic.
But what about those few and far between guys who don’t seem to know what they want? What about those guys who send mixed signals? What about those guys that seem genuinely interested but then sporadically call you? Why does the chase seem to be all that some men want? What is so fulfilling about the chase?? If you’re LDS, as I am, the CHASE doesn’t get you anything! Hello! The CATCH does! Remember how much more fun playing Tag was when you caught the person???
Don’t worry, men. I’m not just going to bag on you in this. It’s not like women are open books. I should know. I am one, so I know all of our tricks and have made good use of them. I know how to make full use of the sidelong glance, the slow smile…and what we REALLY mean when we say we’re “fine”. (“Fine” is NEVER good, for those men who haven’t been the recipient of one of those “what women really mean” e-mails. You don’t want to hear a woman say she’s “fine” because she’s not.)
See, we women are pretty wily. We’ll act like we’re innocent, all wide eyes and blushes, but we know what we’re doing. We know how to make you want us and if we don’t want you, then we know how to make you NOT want us. Ever seen “How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days”? There’s some truth to that movie. Women are confusing and yeah, sometimes we play games. But hey, men: SO DO YOU.
I’ve gotten some flak for not accepting every date offer I’ve gotten. Some people have said, if a guy has the balls to ask you out, he deserves a date. Maybe that’s true. But I figure, why should I waste some poor guy’s time and money when I know that I’m not going to want to go on that second date? And who wants to go on a pity date??
So I let guys down nice and easy, because I’ve been declined before myself and I have been the pity date. It sucks. But I don’t let the guy think that he has a chance when he doesn’t. So guys: don’t lead us on and make us think we have a shot when we don’t. That sucks, too.
Ahhhh, dating.
So you go out on the first date and you have a good time. Then when you do go out with someone on that second date, then third, fourth, and so on, it’s practically the equivalent of another Geneva Convention when determining if you’re “official” or not. Witnesses must be called, boundary lines drawn, and neutral territories established. Defining the Relationship talks can be unpleasant because that’s when one or both parties reveal just how COMMITTED they are. It’s pretty hard to find out that you are more into the other person than they are into you.
If you’ve gotten past the DTR stage and came out with a significant other, it’s not like you can rest on your laurels. Oh no. You have to worry about ANNIVERSARIES. Lucky for whomever I date, I am not one of those girls who celebrate how many weeks it’s been since we first held hands, kissed, or wore the same color shirts by accident and thus proving how perfect for each other we are. (To be honest, I can barely remember what days that kind of stuff happens, let alone remember to celebrate it!)
Don’t take my rant the wrong way. Dating can be a ton of fun. I am very into dating. I wish I did more of it. Wooo! Go dating! It’s nice having a significant other. It’s awesome having someone who wants to be seen in public with you, who will hold your hand while walking down the street, and who wants to make out with you more than once. (WOOO! Making out! Yeah!)
But being the Crazy Cat Lady is becoming more and more of an attractive, and let’s face it; inevitable, alternative to dating these days. With cats, you never have to worry about where you stand. It’s simple: they’re the boss. You’re the bringer of food, the lap provider, and ear scratcher. A DTR is not necessary. Really, any talking is not necessary with a cat. Cats actually prefer that you don’t talk to them. They already know they own you.
I guess what I’m really trying to say here is that regardless of what gender you are (or prefer), the Golden Rule should really apply to dating (as well as everything else.) If you don’t want to be jerked around, then don’t jerk other people around. If you want someone to treat you with respect, then you need to treat them with respect. If you don't want someone to play games with you, well maybe you need to re-evaluate and see if you're the one playing games. Are you picking up what I’m putting down? Is the sprinkler hitting the grass? Do you see how this works?
Don’t say you’re playing Tag if all you’re doing is running.
Peace, love, and much chocolate to all.
I guess I should start working on my slovenly appearance and talking in gibberish...
Sunday, January 4, 2009
My cats are jealous of my laptop
Yes, you read that right. The cats are jealous of the laptop.
They think they are the rightful occupants of my lap, not that thing which is clearly not a cat. One of them in particular, (we’ll call him “Fluffy” to protect the not-so-innocent) perceives my keystrokes as petting and chin scratching of which he should be receiving. Whenever I am working on my laptop, Fluffy sits next to my chair and glares balefully at the intruder of his space (as he is literally doing right now as I write this).
Fluffy has attempted to camp out on my lap even when I’m using my computer, but as we know, two objects cannot occupy the same space at one time, and he gets unceremoniously shoved onto the floor. I’ve reminded him that in this house, we obey the laws of physics, but he’s a cat. He doesn’t care.
Holstein—oops, I mean Fluffy just hissed at the laptop. It’s not the first time. The laptop is unperturbed when he does this.
Fluffy glares with a vengeance, though. You can just see the feline vitriol shooting through his gaze and if looks could kill, the laptop would have a virus. (Then I imagine that my cat would assume a smug look worthy of Jeff Goldblum and manage to think the words “The package has been delivered.” Then maybe that non-feline metal bastard would care.)
Fluffy’s brother, “Stupid” (name changed to protect the…well, stupid) does not share as much of his brother’s antipathy towards the metal lap-stealer. Stupid sits and yowls for a minute, then does the feline equivalent of shrugging and wanders over to the food bowl.
You would think that Stupid would bear the brunt of Fluffy’s familial attacks, but I don’t call them the Brothers Dim for nothing. Stupid is spared Fluffy attacks and the laptop is mercilessly glared at and taunted. (“Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries!”)
I have considered doing what any frazzled mother who is tired of fighting children does: forcing Fluffy, Stupid, and my computer to hug and yell at them “You are all going to LOVE each other!”
Don’t worry, I haven’t done that. The cats would just glare at me and the computer doesn’t have arms with which to hug.
I have an older brother and a younger sister so I am no stranger to sibling fighting. It’s a part of life when you have siblings – knuckle punches, Hertz donuts, Smurf bites, Indian burns, the dreaded Rear Admiral, tattling, ganging up on each other, you name it. But you grow out of it, hopefully none the worse for the wear, and with a healthy respect for your older sibling – who now that he is a COP, has a whole new arsenal of weapons to potentially use against me.
That being said, I am afraid that one day I will come home and my laptop will have been duct taped to a streetlight as I, ahem, may have done to my sister once upon a time.
(What?! I let her go eventually.)
They think they are the rightful occupants of my lap, not that thing which is clearly not a cat. One of them in particular, (we’ll call him “Fluffy” to protect the not-so-innocent) perceives my keystrokes as petting and chin scratching of which he should be receiving. Whenever I am working on my laptop, Fluffy sits next to my chair and glares balefully at the intruder of his space (as he is literally doing right now as I write this).
Fluffy has attempted to camp out on my lap even when I’m using my computer, but as we know, two objects cannot occupy the same space at one time, and he gets unceremoniously shoved onto the floor. I’ve reminded him that in this house, we obey the laws of physics, but he’s a cat. He doesn’t care.
Holstein—oops, I mean Fluffy just hissed at the laptop. It’s not the first time. The laptop is unperturbed when he does this.
Fluffy glares with a vengeance, though. You can just see the feline vitriol shooting through his gaze and if looks could kill, the laptop would have a virus. (Then I imagine that my cat would assume a smug look worthy of Jeff Goldblum and manage to think the words “The package has been delivered.” Then maybe that non-feline metal bastard would care.)
Fluffy’s brother, “Stupid” (name changed to protect the…well, stupid) does not share as much of his brother’s antipathy towards the metal lap-stealer. Stupid sits and yowls for a minute, then does the feline equivalent of shrugging and wanders over to the food bowl.
You would think that Stupid would bear the brunt of Fluffy’s familial attacks, but I don’t call them the Brothers Dim for nothing. Stupid is spared Fluffy attacks and the laptop is mercilessly glared at and taunted. (“Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries!”)
I have considered doing what any frazzled mother who is tired of fighting children does: forcing Fluffy, Stupid, and my computer to hug and yell at them “You are all going to LOVE each other!”
Don’t worry, I haven’t done that. The cats would just glare at me and the computer doesn’t have arms with which to hug.
I have an older brother and a younger sister so I am no stranger to sibling fighting. It’s a part of life when you have siblings – knuckle punches, Hertz donuts, Smurf bites, Indian burns, the dreaded Rear Admiral, tattling, ganging up on each other, you name it. But you grow out of it, hopefully none the worse for the wear, and with a healthy respect for your older sibling – who now that he is a COP, has a whole new arsenal of weapons to potentially use against me.
That being said, I am afraid that one day I will come home and my laptop will have been duct taped to a streetlight as I, ahem, may have done to my sister once upon a time.
(What?! I let her go eventually.)
Friday, January 2, 2009
It was all a dream...
Have you ever had a dream that you just hated to wake up from? I did, the other night. I almost cried when I woke up and realized that it wasn’t real, it was that great. It was such a fantastic dream and it was basically an affirmation of everything that I’ve ever wanted out of life and when I realized I haven’t gotten it; well, honestly, I was rather depressed. (Let’s take a moment to do a sad face for Melodye.)
So, in order to keep myself from getting too maudlin and self-pitying about the dream, I started thinking about dreams and what they mean. I am not a fan of Freud (I do NOT have penis envy), but his theories regarding dreams being forms of wish-fulfillment got me thinking:
Is my unconscious trying to solve a problem that my conscious won’t let me think about? Is there something preventing me from fulfilling my goals that I’m preventing my conscious from thinking about and thus from solving the problem? Am I preventing myself from getting everything I’ve wanted??
If I am somehow preventing myself from getting everything I want (and, no, I’m not talking about the new bags from Prada or the entire line of Jimmy Choos), how am I doing that? Do I have too much pride? Is there some area I need to improve in? (Quite possibly.) Am I too afraid to put myself out there and see what happens? (yeah…)
I dream in vivid color and my dreams are remarkably clear. I can tell you everything that went down in this dream and minor details about everyone involved. I can even tell you what MUSIC was playing in my dream. (It was Placebo and The Killers, if you must know.)
Sometimes my dreams can be really creepy in that I’ll dream something and then it will happen later. I’m not saying I have prophetic dreams a la Buffy the Vampire Slayer, but more than a few dreams of mine have come true. Quite a lot of them have, actually, and it’s very disconcerting.
So is this dream of mine going to be one of the ones that come true? Or is my unconscious mocking me? Is this just a case of wish-fulfillment and that’s all that will come of this particular dream?
Is a dream, as Cinderella says, really a wish that your heart makes? Or is it more like what Mulder said on the X-Files: a dream is an answer to a problem you haven’t figured out how to ask yet? Or is it all just the ramblings of a sleeping mind and dreams don’t mean a gosh darn thing?
I’ll end with a part of this song by one of my favorite bands, The Smiths. (They are both amazingly fantastic and fantastically amazing.)
Last night I dreamt
That somebody loved me
No hope, no harm
Just another false alarm
Last night I felt
Real arms around me
No hope, no harm
Just another false alarm
So, tell me how long
Before the last one ?
And tell me how long
Before the right one ?
The story is old - I know
But it goes on
- The Smiths
May all your dreams be clear, colorful, and come true.
Boo-yah.
So, in order to keep myself from getting too maudlin and self-pitying about the dream, I started thinking about dreams and what they mean. I am not a fan of Freud (I do NOT have penis envy), but his theories regarding dreams being forms of wish-fulfillment got me thinking:
Is my unconscious trying to solve a problem that my conscious won’t let me think about? Is there something preventing me from fulfilling my goals that I’m preventing my conscious from thinking about and thus from solving the problem? Am I preventing myself from getting everything I’ve wanted??
If I am somehow preventing myself from getting everything I want (and, no, I’m not talking about the new bags from Prada or the entire line of Jimmy Choos), how am I doing that? Do I have too much pride? Is there some area I need to improve in? (Quite possibly.) Am I too afraid to put myself out there and see what happens? (yeah…)
I dream in vivid color and my dreams are remarkably clear. I can tell you everything that went down in this dream and minor details about everyone involved. I can even tell you what MUSIC was playing in my dream. (It was Placebo and The Killers, if you must know.)
Sometimes my dreams can be really creepy in that I’ll dream something and then it will happen later. I’m not saying I have prophetic dreams a la Buffy the Vampire Slayer, but more than a few dreams of mine have come true. Quite a lot of them have, actually, and it’s very disconcerting.
So is this dream of mine going to be one of the ones that come true? Or is my unconscious mocking me? Is this just a case of wish-fulfillment and that’s all that will come of this particular dream?
Is a dream, as Cinderella says, really a wish that your heart makes? Or is it more like what Mulder said on the X-Files: a dream is an answer to a problem you haven’t figured out how to ask yet? Or is it all just the ramblings of a sleeping mind and dreams don’t mean a gosh darn thing?
I’ll end with a part of this song by one of my favorite bands, The Smiths. (They are both amazingly fantastic and fantastically amazing.)
Last night I dreamt
That somebody loved me
No hope, no harm
Just another false alarm
Last night I felt
Real arms around me
No hope, no harm
Just another false alarm
So, tell me how long
Before the last one ?
And tell me how long
Before the right one ?
The story is old - I know
But it goes on
- The Smiths
May all your dreams be clear, colorful, and come true.
Boo-yah.
Thursday, January 1, 2009
My New Year's Resolutions
It’s that time of year again: time for New Year’s resolutions. Sure, there is the clichéd I’m going to lose weight; I’m going to eat healthier; I’m going to clean out that closet; in short, I’m going to make SOME sort of change in my life so I can be happier. And sure, those are on my list. But I’m also going to try for some more. We all know that no one really keeps their resolutions past January (in some cases, past 12:01 on January 1st) but I’m going to REALLY try this year.
So strap in, strap out, or strap on, but here we go:
1. I’m going to text less. I text A LOT. Damn you Sprint for giving me unlimited texting for $2.50 a month. I rely on texting way too much. I’m going to make more calls. I hope people don’t ignore my calls…
2. I’m going to study more. While I remain proud of getting an A in a literature class while doing less than half of the required reading (can we say MAD writing skills?!), now that I’m getting into the upper division (read: harder) classes, I’ve got to buckle down. I can’t coast on my writing skills anymore, especially in Environmental Economics. Yikes.
3. I’m going to be less “scary”. But first someone needs to tell me exactly how and why I’m scary/intimidating. So I need some help with this one. I’m tired of people telling me that I’m scary and intimidating. Although, I’m not sure if I totally want to give that up. Maybe figuring out how to turn it on and off should be my resolution…
4. Going off the previous one: I’m going to make more of an effort and talk to people at church, activities, dances, whatever. I need to get to know more people.
5. I’m going to read my scriptures, improve church attendance, and (gasp) actually participate in Relief Society.
6. I’m going to move on. I’m not going to wait anymore – I can’t.
So there are my New Year’s resolutions. I don’t think they’re too difficult. I think I can do it. And I think I’ll be happier if I can do it. Because I’m not happy and I need to do something about it.
Oops. I just had Almond M&Ms for dinner… Can I have a redo??
Boo-yah.
So strap in, strap out, or strap on, but here we go:
1. I’m going to text less. I text A LOT. Damn you Sprint for giving me unlimited texting for $2.50 a month. I rely on texting way too much. I’m going to make more calls. I hope people don’t ignore my calls…
2. I’m going to study more. While I remain proud of getting an A in a literature class while doing less than half of the required reading (can we say MAD writing skills?!), now that I’m getting into the upper division (read: harder) classes, I’ve got to buckle down. I can’t coast on my writing skills anymore, especially in Environmental Economics. Yikes.
3. I’m going to be less “scary”. But first someone needs to tell me exactly how and why I’m scary/intimidating. So I need some help with this one. I’m tired of people telling me that I’m scary and intimidating. Although, I’m not sure if I totally want to give that up. Maybe figuring out how to turn it on and off should be my resolution…
4. Going off the previous one: I’m going to make more of an effort and talk to people at church, activities, dances, whatever. I need to get to know more people.
5. I’m going to read my scriptures, improve church attendance, and (gasp) actually participate in Relief Society.
6. I’m going to move on. I’m not going to wait anymore – I can’t.
So there are my New Year’s resolutions. I don’t think they’re too difficult. I think I can do it. And I think I’ll be happier if I can do it. Because I’m not happy and I need to do something about it.
Oops. I just had Almond M&Ms for dinner… Can I have a redo??
Boo-yah.
My current favorite poem
My current favorite poem is i carry your heart with me, by ee cummings. I know it’s a random thing to have a current favorite poem. Most people have current favorite songs, foods, or whatever, but you should know by now that I’m kind of random. Kind of a LOT random. So here is my current favorite poem:
i carry your heart with me
i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)
ee cummings’ words are beautiful. I’m not going to deconstruct or analyze it here because that’s not the point of this post. I’m just going to say again that I have mad love for this poem.
Kind of a boring post, I know. But I’m not sorry.
Boo-yah.
*Note: I am in no way claiming ownership to this or any other of ee cummings’ works. I am just using this here to express my appreciation for the poem.
i carry your heart with me
i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)
ee cummings’ words are beautiful. I’m not going to deconstruct or analyze it here because that’s not the point of this post. I’m just going to say again that I have mad love for this poem.
Kind of a boring post, I know. But I’m not sorry.
Boo-yah.
*Note: I am in no way claiming ownership to this or any other of ee cummings’ works. I am just using this here to express my appreciation for the poem.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Reflections on the Release of Britney’s New Album and Tour Dates
Britney’s new album came out on Tuesday. My verdict: I LOVE IT. I haven’t loved one of her albums like this since “Oops! I Did It Again”. That is not to say that “Britney”, “In the Zone”, “Blackout” and the greatest hits album were not without their charms. But I haven’t loved every song on the disc since “Oops”.
Concert dates for the Circus tour were also released on Tuesday. By using a special code, you can get really good seats for a slightly cheaper price. Sadly, I do not have the amount necessary to acquire some tickets at this time.
I considered throwing a fit to eclipse all fits; begging my parents for a loaner; and even considered taking out a loan on my 401(k). I didn’t do any of those. Throwing a fit doesn’t work anymore and besides, who would I throw it at? I’m not going to beg my parents for a loan for concert tickets, and I don’t want to take a loan on my 401(k).
Instead of bitching about tickets that I don’t have, I’m going to (attempt) to be grateful about things I do have, and not think about the tickets.
For example, I’m not going to think about how my car payment, which coincidentally posted to my account on the same day that tickets were put on sale, would have easily been enough to purchase two tickets. Instead, I’m going to think about how much money my new car saved me during the summer months when gas was well over $4 a gallon. I’m going to think about how much I like not stressing about my car’s “health.”
I’m going to think about how pleasantly surprised that my vintage Sgt. Pepper record miraculously had the cutouts intact. That’s pretty uncommon for a used Sgt Pepper record and it considerably ups the collector value. My kids might get to go to college.
I’m going to think about excited I will be to attend Britney’s concert, even if I wind up with nosebleed seats, because no way am I missing Britney’s comeback tour. I’ve been to two of her concerts and she puts on a good show. It’ll be way fun and I’m already looking forward to it.
Funny how Britney’s new album and tour dates are making me just a little more grateful for stuff, huh?
*PS – I’m not going to lie: when I’m up in my nosebleed seats, I’ll probably still be a little mad that I didn’t get the good seats that I want. I’ll probably glare down at the people who were lucky enough to get my seats. But I’ll glare gratefully. XD
Boo-yah.
Concert dates for the Circus tour were also released on Tuesday. By using a special code, you can get really good seats for a slightly cheaper price. Sadly, I do not have the amount necessary to acquire some tickets at this time.
I considered throwing a fit to eclipse all fits; begging my parents for a loaner; and even considered taking out a loan on my 401(k). I didn’t do any of those. Throwing a fit doesn’t work anymore and besides, who would I throw it at? I’m not going to beg my parents for a loan for concert tickets, and I don’t want to take a loan on my 401(k).
Instead of bitching about tickets that I don’t have, I’m going to (attempt) to be grateful about things I do have, and not think about the tickets.
For example, I’m not going to think about how my car payment, which coincidentally posted to my account on the same day that tickets were put on sale, would have easily been enough to purchase two tickets. Instead, I’m going to think about how much money my new car saved me during the summer months when gas was well over $4 a gallon. I’m going to think about how much I like not stressing about my car’s “health.”
I’m going to think about how pleasantly surprised that my vintage Sgt. Pepper record miraculously had the cutouts intact. That’s pretty uncommon for a used Sgt Pepper record and it considerably ups the collector value. My kids might get to go to college.
I’m going to think about excited I will be to attend Britney’s concert, even if I wind up with nosebleed seats, because no way am I missing Britney’s comeback tour. I’ve been to two of her concerts and she puts on a good show. It’ll be way fun and I’m already looking forward to it.
Funny how Britney’s new album and tour dates are making me just a little more grateful for stuff, huh?
*PS – I’m not going to lie: when I’m up in my nosebleed seats, I’ll probably still be a little mad that I didn’t get the good seats that I want. I’ll probably glare down at the people who were lucky enough to get my seats. But I’ll glare gratefully. XD
Boo-yah.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
I will be so proud if my kid...
I don’t have any kids right now, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have high hopes for any future progeny of mine. And, unlike hopes that one day they’ll rule the world with an iron fist (although that would be wicked cool); I think these aspirations are actually attainable. Let me explain.
1. Every year in church, the kids from ages 5-11 put on a program in church. I hated doing this program with a passion, but never actually had the guts to make it known just how much I hated the program. That being said, since I had to suffer through the program year after year, little Scooby and Chicky-babe have to suffer through it as well. However, I would be the proudest mother in the congregation if little Scooby or Chicky-babe were to do the program with vampire fangs stuck in their mouths. Or if they wanted to go the whole hog and wear glasses with eyes attached to slinkies, that would be okay, too. Of course, I would have to act mortified in church, but, oh man, Christmas would come early for any child of mine who had the stones to do something like that in church.
2. If my kids could learn how to whale on the guitar like a rock star, and not like the pathetic wannabe like I am (please refer to a previous post of mine), I would be so proud of my little Guitar Heroes. If Scooby or Chicky-babe were to become so proficient on the guitar as to make it big in the rock world, well, then I’ll be right there to borrow money from them like the good sponge..errr, I mean, mother I’ll be someday.
3. I would be tres exultant if one of my spawn could belch the entire alphabet in one go. YES, I know it’s gross and I would be horribly mortified and humiliated if it were to occur in public, but let me ask you this. Have you ever heard a little kid actually belch the entire alphabet? I have and I nearly gave myself an aneurysm, I laughed so hard. It was hysterically funny and I decided then and there that if I had a kid that could do that, it would be pretty kick ass. I’m going to go out on a limb and say that it is possible that I would have a kid who could do that. Future Granddad has some prowess in that area, so Scooby (preferably) has a good chance.
There is a silver lining to this gastronomical feat: if a child of mine had the lung capacity to actually belch the alphabet, then that kid is getting signed up for voice lessons because clearly, I have a potential opera singer on my hands or at least, be able to belt out Bohemian Rhapsody, falsetto and all.
(I feel the need to reiterate the fact that I do NOT want my child to exhibit this particular talent in public. Save it for the frat house, Scooby.)
4. If my kids are smart-asses to me or Future Hottie-Husband, they’ll find themselves in a world of hurt. But if Scooby or Chicky-babe can deliver an attitude worthy of Shannen Dougherty at her worst, to someone who needs to be taken down a peg, then I shall call them Mini-me and we will sing “Just the Two of Us” duets just like Doctor Evil and HIS Mini-Me.
5. A debate can be aptly described as choreography of words, the dance of death. (Excuse me while I wax poetical.) I would be so proud if Scooby or Chicky-babe can hold their own in a hardcore debate. I’m speaking, of course, of the fine art of the rap battle. I would love to have my own little rapper who can throw down with the best of them while keeping it clean. And if I get this response after I tell my kid to pick up his crap for the tenth time or else it’s going in the trash: “I’ll pick it up cuz I ain’t no punk beeyotch”, I will reply with pride “Word.”
Of course, I’ll be proud of all of Scooby and Chicky-babe’s accomplishments, big or small. These are just a few of which I would feel compelled to brag about.
However, if when asked what Mummy wants Daddy to get her for her birthday, Christmas, Valentine’s Day, anniversary, Boxing Day, Valentine’s Day, or any day that ends in ‘y’ gift and Scooby or Chicky-babe say “Mummy likes diamonds”, then that kid gets an all-expenses paid trip to college for four years.
I know I’ve left something out, so if there is something particularly funny and praise-worthy that your kids have done and you feel that it’s something I should be proud of if my kid did, let me know! Or just feel free to brag about your talented little genius.
1. Every year in church, the kids from ages 5-11 put on a program in church. I hated doing this program with a passion, but never actually had the guts to make it known just how much I hated the program. That being said, since I had to suffer through the program year after year, little Scooby and Chicky-babe have to suffer through it as well. However, I would be the proudest mother in the congregation if little Scooby or Chicky-babe were to do the program with vampire fangs stuck in their mouths. Or if they wanted to go the whole hog and wear glasses with eyes attached to slinkies, that would be okay, too. Of course, I would have to act mortified in church, but, oh man, Christmas would come early for any child of mine who had the stones to do something like that in church.
2. If my kids could learn how to whale on the guitar like a rock star, and not like the pathetic wannabe like I am (please refer to a previous post of mine), I would be so proud of my little Guitar Heroes. If Scooby or Chicky-babe were to become so proficient on the guitar as to make it big in the rock world, well, then I’ll be right there to borrow money from them like the good sponge..errr, I mean, mother I’ll be someday.
3. I would be tres exultant if one of my spawn could belch the entire alphabet in one go. YES, I know it’s gross and I would be horribly mortified and humiliated if it were to occur in public, but let me ask you this. Have you ever heard a little kid actually belch the entire alphabet? I have and I nearly gave myself an aneurysm, I laughed so hard. It was hysterically funny and I decided then and there that if I had a kid that could do that, it would be pretty kick ass. I’m going to go out on a limb and say that it is possible that I would have a kid who could do that. Future Granddad has some prowess in that area, so Scooby (preferably) has a good chance.
There is a silver lining to this gastronomical feat: if a child of mine had the lung capacity to actually belch the alphabet, then that kid is getting signed up for voice lessons because clearly, I have a potential opera singer on my hands or at least, be able to belt out Bohemian Rhapsody, falsetto and all.
(I feel the need to reiterate the fact that I do NOT want my child to exhibit this particular talent in public. Save it for the frat house, Scooby.)
4. If my kids are smart-asses to me or Future Hottie-Husband, they’ll find themselves in a world of hurt. But if Scooby or Chicky-babe can deliver an attitude worthy of Shannen Dougherty at her worst, to someone who needs to be taken down a peg, then I shall call them Mini-me and we will sing “Just the Two of Us” duets just like Doctor Evil and HIS Mini-Me.
5. A debate can be aptly described as choreography of words, the dance of death. (Excuse me while I wax poetical.) I would be so proud if Scooby or Chicky-babe can hold their own in a hardcore debate. I’m speaking, of course, of the fine art of the rap battle. I would love to have my own little rapper who can throw down with the best of them while keeping it clean. And if I get this response after I tell my kid to pick up his crap for the tenth time or else it’s going in the trash: “I’ll pick it up cuz I ain’t no punk beeyotch”, I will reply with pride “Word.”
Of course, I’ll be proud of all of Scooby and Chicky-babe’s accomplishments, big or small. These are just a few of which I would feel compelled to brag about.
However, if when asked what Mummy wants Daddy to get her for her birthday, Christmas, Valentine’s Day, anniversary, Boxing Day, Valentine’s Day, or any day that ends in ‘y’ gift and Scooby or Chicky-babe say “Mummy likes diamonds”, then that kid gets an all-expenses paid trip to college for four years.
I know I’ve left something out, so if there is something particularly funny and praise-worthy that your kids have done and you feel that it’s something I should be proud of if my kid did, let me know! Or just feel free to brag about your talented little genius.
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Today, I criticize health care (and also I refer to three movies and one song)
I’m up late because for the past few days, I’ve felt like some demonic little troll has been stabbing my left side with a pitchfork from the inside of my body. Whenever I move, the evil bugger stabs me double time and has literally made me double over in pain, gasping and cursing. During one such internal stabbing attack by the troll, my boss even noticed something was wrong. It was then that I decided a visit to Urgent Care was in order.
I spent all of Friday morning at Urgent Care, where, incidentally, my doctor was MAJOR eye candy (seriously, seeing him almost made it worth having to be there), only to be told that after various tests of my bodily fluids and five X-rays, Hottie Doctor couldn’t see anything wrong with me. (I almost asked if X-rays are to trolls what mirrors are to vampires, but then decided not to, as I didn’t want Hottie Doctor to think I was crazy. One MUST keep up appearances, you know.)
I spent all of Friday morning at Urgent Care, where, incidentally, my doctor was MAJOR eye candy (seriously, seeing him almost made it worth having to be there), only to be told that after various tests of my bodily fluids and five X-rays, Hottie Doctor couldn’t see anything wrong with me. (I almost asked if X-rays are to trolls what mirrors are to vampires, but then decided not to, as I didn’t want Hottie Doctor to think I was crazy. One MUST keep up appearances, you know.)
OW!
Not wanting to question Hottie Doctor’s intelligence and medical degree but at the same time wanting to be rid of the damn troll inside of me, I (shamelessly) turned on the waterworks.
You see, this Urgent Care visit was merely the latest doctor’s visit in the long line of doctor’s visits this year. I, who up until this year never went to the doctor, have been in and out of my doctor’s office at least twice a month since December 2007. I kid you not. I have had a range of tests over the past few months: a CT scan, thyroid ultrasounds, “fluid” tests (I will NOT elaborate on that one), and X-rays. I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve had blood taken. I’ve been exposed to so much radiation that even Hottie Doctor was worried about doing today’s X-rays. His exact words: “Poor thing, I’m surprised you’re not GLOWING from all the radiation.” (Oh, I was glowing, baby, but not from radiation. It was his fine self that had me glowing like Robert Downey Jr.’s chest thingy in Iron Man.)
Sadly enough, my testing days are not done. Lucky me, I get to go have a thyroid biopsy. What does that entail, exactly? Well, grasshopper, that means that I get to have a needle (which in my imagination equals the size of the one used in Pulp Fiction) shoved in and out of my poor defenseless thyroid. Is it any wonder that I’m procrastinating on scheduling this particular appointment? Given the choice, I’d much rather cut my own Achilles’ tendon with a dull and rusty razor. (Did you just shudder? I know I did. But I really don’t want a ginormous needle going into my throat.)
Getting back to today’s visit: I usually don’t cry at the doctor’s office. I’m a big girl now, and according to Fergie, big girls don’t cry. But today I summoned up some tears, hoping to garner sympathy (or possibly a little cuddle) from Hottie Doctor. (it didn’t work. Well, actually, it did a little. But not the cuddle part. Damn.)
I don’t understand why these ridiculously expensive tests and doctors with years of schooling and fancy medical degrees can’t figure out what’s wrong with me. Don’t get me wrong, man. It’s not like I want something wrong with me, because I certainly don’t. I would have been happy to go the rest of my days without knowing what it’s like to get a CT scan and I REALLY would not mind if the words “thyroid biopsy” were not part of my lexicon. But since something is wrong with me – I’m sure most normal people don’t have angry, angry trolls inside of them (unless your name is Rosemary and you’re in a movie called Rosemary’s Baby and in which case, dude that sucks) – I would really like it if someone could tell me what’s wrong with me.
On the up side, I did get a prescription for Lortab. On the down side, I got a hideously bruised arm and tape residue.
And you know something else? I don’t like how 49 flavor jars of Jelly Bellies always load up on the bellies that taste like caca. Peanut butter, buttered popcorn, caramel corn, and mango – I’m looking in your direction.
Boo yah.
**Update: Please note that this is for entertainment value only. I am not looking for sympathy, attention, or threats to go medieval on the doctors. There are so many more people who are worse off than I am. I have had time to gain perspective and see the amusing side of the situation. I only wrote about this in order to help myself laugh about it, and to perhaps remind everyone to count their blessings.
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
I'm a Rock Legend!
I love hearing the crowd yelling and chanting. I love feeling the crowd’s energy, the anticipation of hearing their favorite songs played just for them. The lead singer has let me choose what we play. I look over our set list and choose our first song. The crowd gets louder as they realize the show is about to start. I pick up my guitar and get my fingers ready for a workout. The lead singer plays with the jazzed-up crowd, gets them worked into a frenzied excitement. My drummer taps out the beat of the song and I hit the first button.
Hello. My name is Melodye…and I’m addicted to Guitar Hero.
Hello. My name is Melodye…and I’m addicted to Guitar Hero.
Man, that feels good to get off my chest. I play Guitar Hero every chance I can. When I listen to music, I see green, red, yellow, blue, and orange dots scattered across a fret board, running across the screen of my mind. I even, occasionally, okay OFTEN, find myself strumming on an invisible guitar controller.
I’m sick, I know.
I finally acquired my own Wii, so I don’t have to camp out at my friend’s house and invade her family, in order to satisfy my Guitar Hero craving. People have asked me if my newly purchased Wii was for my kids. Shamefully, I duck my head and mumble some affirmative-sounding yet incoherent answer and hastily change the subject. But I lie. I have no kids. The Wii was for mii.
I was shocked, but pleasantly so, when I discovered that I had almost all of the playlist for Guitar Hero III on my iPod. Of course, nothing would do but to immediately go to iTunes and purchase the few remaining songs I did not have, just so that my Guitar Hero III playlist would be complete. I was also pleasantly surprised to see that I have most of the playlists from Guitar Hero I and II on my iPod. I have not updated my iPod as of yet with the remaining songs, though, as I am not made of money, and music gets expensive on ye olde iTunes.
I would really love it if they would make the other versions of Guitar Hero for the Wii system. Guitar Hero I, II, and Guitar Hero Rocks the 80s. I want to acquire the Guitar Hero: Aerosmith game and guess how excited I am that they are developing a Guitar Hero: Metallica game? So excited! If the Beatles ever licensed their music for play on Guitar Hero, I would be out of control.
I need help.
I feel guilty when I play Guitar Hero, especially since I should be practicing my real guitar or possibly even studying. But it’s so COOL to play along to Metallica, Guns’N’Roses, Weezer, The Who, Cream, KISS, Alice Cooper, and Muse. I like to feel like a rock star, not to mention the warm and fuzzy feeling I get inside when I beat Slash at his own game. Hmmm, it might not be so much warm and fuzzy as much as I want to slam the controller on the floor in the manner of spiking a football, and yell “IN YOUR FACE” to Slash, then do my own version of an end zone victory dance.
Speaking of Slash, am I alone in wanting to ask him what the hell he was doing in making that battle of his so damn difficult? Holy CRAP that thing is tricky. Slash doesn’t want to battle; he wants to punish me for thinking I’m big enough to run with the big dogs and trying to play HIS game. And so, when I battle Slash, it usually takes four or five times, maybe even six, and by then I’m huddled on the floor, broken and sobbing, screaming “Why, Slash, WHY do you hate me so much???” The computer people in the audience yelling “You suuuuuuuck!” and “Get off the stage!” don’t help matters and I don’t care how many times you tell me that it’s just a game, I’m convinced that Slash is laughing at me after he’s kicked me to the curb a few times. Then the game gets to the point where even it thinks the whole thing is pathetic, and wants to put me out of my misery by offering me the choice of wussing out or continuing with the carnage.
Of course, I know that Slash has no ill-will toward me. He doesn’t even know me. (I think. Wait…maybe? Nah, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t know me.) I have no enmity towards Slash as well. It’s just that when I manage to beat him, victory is sweeter than honey pie. I’m not a gracious winner, I want to rub it in his face and see him cry. And if I ever meet Slash in person: I WILL rub it in his face that I can beat him at medium-level. However, since I cannot rub it in, I will settle for playing “Welcome to the Jungle” with Slash. (On medium.)
But I love Guitar Hero. I’m so addicted and I’m not going to lie: when I get home tonight, no matter how late it is, I’ll try to sneak in some Guitar Hero.
My name is Melodye, and I’m a medium-level Rock Legend. Nice to make your acquaintance.
Boo-yah.
I’m sick, I know.
I finally acquired my own Wii, so I don’t have to camp out at my friend’s house and invade her family, in order to satisfy my Guitar Hero craving. People have asked me if my newly purchased Wii was for my kids. Shamefully, I duck my head and mumble some affirmative-sounding yet incoherent answer and hastily change the subject. But I lie. I have no kids. The Wii was for mii.
I was shocked, but pleasantly so, when I discovered that I had almost all of the playlist for Guitar Hero III on my iPod. Of course, nothing would do but to immediately go to iTunes and purchase the few remaining songs I did not have, just so that my Guitar Hero III playlist would be complete. I was also pleasantly surprised to see that I have most of the playlists from Guitar Hero I and II on my iPod. I have not updated my iPod as of yet with the remaining songs, though, as I am not made of money, and music gets expensive on ye olde iTunes.
I would really love it if they would make the other versions of Guitar Hero for the Wii system. Guitar Hero I, II, and Guitar Hero Rocks the 80s. I want to acquire the Guitar Hero: Aerosmith game and guess how excited I am that they are developing a Guitar Hero: Metallica game? So excited! If the Beatles ever licensed their music for play on Guitar Hero, I would be out of control.
I need help.
I feel guilty when I play Guitar Hero, especially since I should be practicing my real guitar or possibly even studying. But it’s so COOL to play along to Metallica, Guns’N’Roses, Weezer, The Who, Cream, KISS, Alice Cooper, and Muse. I like to feel like a rock star, not to mention the warm and fuzzy feeling I get inside when I beat Slash at his own game. Hmmm, it might not be so much warm and fuzzy as much as I want to slam the controller on the floor in the manner of spiking a football, and yell “IN YOUR FACE” to Slash, then do my own version of an end zone victory dance.
Speaking of Slash, am I alone in wanting to ask him what the hell he was doing in making that battle of his so damn difficult? Holy CRAP that thing is tricky. Slash doesn’t want to battle; he wants to punish me for thinking I’m big enough to run with the big dogs and trying to play HIS game. And so, when I battle Slash, it usually takes four or five times, maybe even six, and by then I’m huddled on the floor, broken and sobbing, screaming “Why, Slash, WHY do you hate me so much???” The computer people in the audience yelling “You suuuuuuuck!” and “Get off the stage!” don’t help matters and I don’t care how many times you tell me that it’s just a game, I’m convinced that Slash is laughing at me after he’s kicked me to the curb a few times. Then the game gets to the point where even it thinks the whole thing is pathetic, and wants to put me out of my misery by offering me the choice of wussing out or continuing with the carnage.
Of course, I know that Slash has no ill-will toward me. He doesn’t even know me. (I think. Wait…maybe? Nah, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t know me.) I have no enmity towards Slash as well. It’s just that when I manage to beat him, victory is sweeter than honey pie. I’m not a gracious winner, I want to rub it in his face and see him cry. And if I ever meet Slash in person: I WILL rub it in his face that I can beat him at medium-level. However, since I cannot rub it in, I will settle for playing “Welcome to the Jungle” with Slash. (On medium.)
But I love Guitar Hero. I’m so addicted and I’m not going to lie: when I get home tonight, no matter how late it is, I’ll try to sneak in some Guitar Hero.
My name is Melodye, and I’m a medium-level Rock Legend. Nice to make your acquaintance.
Boo-yah.
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