The only thing I want to do right now is soak in a hot bath while I read a terrible book. But since there is one hell of a thunderstorm going down right now, I know better.
Because growing up, my mamma always told me there was a good chance of ‘lectricution if you were all in the tub while lightening was flashing all over the place.
And though I am sure this story falls somewhere under “old wives tale” I am not ready and willing to take the chance to have the paramedics come in my apartment 3 days later and find my deadly-pale bloated body in my tub with a water-logged copy of the latest over-hyped book* floating by my side!
No way! Uh-uh!
But then again, I can’t talk because I’ve been so ridiculously bored and looking for a little excitement in my life, I recently quite seriously considered running into the Christian Science reading room next door covered in blood and screaming, “I’m dying! I’m dying!” **
You know, just to see if I could get one of ‘em to call 9-1-1 for me.
This is the state of mind I have been in lately.
Oh, that and I have been held prisoner by Belle & Sebastian. More specifically one of their songs, “Seeing Other People.”
It is a sickness, listening to this song. At one point, it all began because I remembered it’s a good song. It’s a catchy ditty. The simple fun and story-telling lyrics sung on a poppy little musical scale that makes it a good time. For a while. Until I got all obsessive compulsive about it and had to listen to it like, 10 times a row at least once a day until it ceased to be soothing but more of a nuisance because I listened and listened til I had to suck all the enjoyment out of it.
This is what I do.
Don’t worry; it’s been put away.
Instead, I have left myself with the soothing sounds of Esquivel! Nothing like space-aged bachelor pad music to make you give it up! Would you like to listen to my hi-fi and perchance sip a potent Singapore Sling cocktail garnished with a swizzle stick adorned with a hula girl atop? Because it is not Esquivel unless you are doing such!
Yeah, I know.
But one thing is, I have shaken this B&S sickness for now. So that is good.
Although, that whole episode made me remember a story from the early 90’s where it was reported a woman was arrested for playing the Whitney Houston version of “I Will Always Love You,” on repeat, for like, an a week straight – 24/7. I guess she was playing it at such a level for such a long time the neighbors had to call the police and stuff.
If I remember correctly she was going through a pretty bad break-up or something?
At one time I thought it was a damn funny story. Who can resist the Whitney Houston/Kevin Kostner DIG!
But, since I realized for whatever reason I can be very OCD I think, “is that justification for driving your neighbors to call the fuzz?”
All right, hands down, yes.
BUT, you can be damn sure, ever since hearing that story, I am pretty careful about what I listen to on repeat at what volume.
Because if I am going to do down, it’s not going to be a cute little ditty like that.
No way, not that. I could however, see myself playing “Rock You Like A Hurricane” or maybe even maybe “The Dream Police” over and over again because I just can’t stop doing bad rock star moves and stoopid whacked-out jumps and guitar windmills in front of the mirror obsessively. Either that or my own little LeTigre dance party where I try out my entire feminist cheerleader-like chants out at top volume at all hours.
But that’s just between you and me.
Look, if y’all are ever going to hold some sort of annfrankenstein obsessive song listening intervention, please – take away the mirrors and not my stereo, ok?
And for the record, the only post-break-up obsessive listening party I can recall was in college. This was the time, after a severely ugly break-up, for some unknown reason I listened to a UB-40 tape on repeat until my dorm-room roommate was all, “umm, annfrankenstein if I have to listen to Red Red Wine one more time I am going to have to flog you with my Birkenstock!”
Errr, my bad.
And that whole listening incident puzzled me very much as I wasn’t even like, a UB-40 fan or anything. I mean, that tape was one of those Columbia Records leftover things from High School I never got around to returning***.
But, you know, HINDSIGHT, in all its glorious being tells me, that whole thing was what I like to call A Great Learning Experience, because I now realize the reason I most probably chose that particular album to listen to was the fact it meant absolutely nothing to me.
Really, if there is one thing I’ve learned over time it is to never put myself in a situation where I start associating good music with pain.
Especially if it’s got some sort of cheesy break-up issue involved with it. For one thing, the first thing I do when I’m all falling in love with someone is to hide my goddamn music collection. I don’t need the enjoyment ruined by some god-awful relationship I had that was destined to fall apart in the first place because I am a magnet for any misanthrope within the lower 48, Canada and (now serving!) the U.K.
Because that would be, do I have to say it? BAD.
Your mission is to kill me if I am in any relationship and I am all “OH MY GOD COLD PLAY YOU SPEAK TO ME!” and cry myself to sleep, smearing my Ultima Mascara on my Laura Ashley throw pillow.
Okay, so Cold Play is an obvious exaggeration because people I DO NOT GET YOUR LOVE FOR THAT STUFF! but for sure my future ex-husband will know I am in for the long-ish haul once he sees me bringing in crates of my albums and cds and things.
Whatever. It’s not important.
But I have been meaning to say for ages before any of this crappy entry stuff came along: if anyone here has the Belle & Sebastian version of The Damned’s song “Alone Or” as heard in the movie Bottle Rocket on MP3 and you have a place from which I can upload it --- you will be my best friend for a long time. I have been looking for it desperately without any luck.
Honestly- funny thing - I came here to this blank page on ann-frank.diaryland.com not even realizing I was going to get into all that. (I mean besides the MP3, I have been meaning to ask that for ages)
Because what I really wanted to talk about was a recent conversation with friends of mine where we discussed generational guidelines as imposed by the media. Specifically how one defining factor of Generation X seems to be The Fear Of Nuclear Bombs.
The agreed upon conclusion to this discussion does not matter! Because the only really important thing to come out of it was my pal Allison’s observation, when, after I brought up all of the Nostradamus specials that plagued the teevee in the 80’s she said, “Oh gosh, yeah! The whole Nostradamus specials thing! OH man, WE WERE RAISED ON APOCALYPSE! COMPLETELY! Because now that I have watched so much of the VH1 Classics I *HAVE* noticed, (and my husband and I comment on this ALL THE TIME) how the theme of the apocalypse, both in set, design and in plot line, has been completely pervasive in 80s music videos.”
Which is all very true, for sure. You cannot doubt me, people! If for any reason solely for the fact the APOCALYPSE was the whole basis of any Billy Idol video in the 80’s until that lame “Rock the Cradle of Love” shit came about in like, 1989!
But whatever, all in all – that entire conversation (which really, went beyond the obvious end of the world fun) was great and insightful, but the only thing I got out of it was, really: I am naming my first album RAISED ON THE APOCALYPSE!
And people, the only way that could be more fun is when I work an umlaut in that title somewhere!
Raised on the APOCALYPSE + Umlauts = annfrankenstein fun!
*yes! I realize everyone linked him like, YEARS AGO!
** Get that joke and you are my hero!
***You know, Columbia Records or as Janeane Garafolo liked to call “baby’s first scam” where you get 10 CDs for free but bail out on the whole thing after they expect you to by 10 more CDs for like, 25.99 each! Don’t front! You have been there!