Friday, 20 January 2012

The Embarrassing Music on My Music Player

I love my music. I have music playing for much of the day. Cooking needs the radio; Classic Rock of course, or maybe some Newfie music. Sewing, crafting, writing and working out require the use of a portable music player; often hooked up to speakers. Before you go getting all excited, know that I don’t listen to anything even remotely new. I have to admit, that I am not much of a music aficionado. My music dates me. (Good thing too, cause nobody else will. Ha ha.)  I am hooked on classic rock up to the nineties and country music up to about 2005.

My first MP3 player was loaded when I got it in about 2002, I never did change the music on it. Not even once. I had it until about two months ago. I think it died of boredom from hearing the same 113 songs over and over. *grin* Even now, when I hear certain songs, I am disappointed when I don’t get the song that I am expecting next. Werewolf in London should always be followed by Cracklin Rosie. That’s just how it should be … in my corner of the universe.

So I now have an iPod. I loaded a few songs on it the day I got it. My iPod; a cute little pink one, is loaded with most of the same stuff that was on my original MP3. Sure, there are a few more songs, and certainly room for lots more music; but I am have never gotten around to loading more songs. Do you know how much effort it takes to go through a directory of 10,000-ish classic rock songs to find the ones that move you? Plus, we all know that I am, by my very nature, lazy. Lazy. Lazy.

I have to admit, that there are a couple songs that don’t really move me anymore or that are just plain crappy remake versions, but I have yet to remove them. The danged thing needs a delete button! I also have to confess (it’s a good thing that confession is good for the soul, cause I seem to confess a lot of things here.) Where was I? Oh yeah, confessing that there is a lot of music on my little pink player that is an embarrassment. You know . . . the kind of music that makes you shut the speakers down when someone comes into the room.

Jack Wagner: All I Need
Stompin Tom Connors: All of his songs! (Gotta love him!)
Captain and Tennille: Love Will Keep us Together

In terms of better music, you’ll find The Who, The Beatles, Alan Jackson, ELO, Prism, April Wine, The Irish Rovers, Alabama, Burton Cummings, Green Day and many more like that. Soon, I will be adding more classic rock some really old country music (think Dolly Parton) and a whole whack of Newfie Music. Oh, and let us never forget the world’s all-time best album, Bat out of Hell by Meatloaf! Paradise by the Dashboard Light is my favourite song…okay it is tied with Beer for my Horses by Toby Keith; but let’s not quibble. I would add some classical, because I love it too, but in general it’s hard to hear over my machines when I am working.

My favorite song for romance writing is I Love the Way You Love Me, by John Michael Montgomery. And nothing makes me cry like Dance Little Jean by the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band. When I need pumped up, it’s Mary Mac by Great Big Sea. There is no way you can keep your feet still during this song. For a laugh there is always Drink and Drink and Fight by Flogging Molly.

I do have one problem with the cute little iPod … when it is on shuffle, why does it play the same songs over and over? After three months, I heard The Night Chicago Died for the first time since I loaded it and I’ve heard Boris the Spider ninety seven times. I mean really, Why?


Sunday, 15 January 2012

Secret Vices and Obsessions

         We all have them. Don’t even try to deny it. Every person I have ever met has a secret vice. Some are more damaging than others. Our passions and secret obsessions come in many forms. Some are neutral, some are harmless fun. I’ve met people addicted to shopping, eating, reading, even extreme sports. I’ll be the first to admit that I have more than one obsession.
            If you follow this blog, you already know that I’m totally addicted to men’s calves, reading and writing. Today I’m going to confess to another one What you probably don’t know is that I am completely hooked on long, hot . . . bubble baths. (Haha got ya! I know where YOU thought this was going.)
           Yes indeed, there is nothing, well almost nothing, that I love more than a soak in a hot bubble bath. I do my best thinking there. I plot, I read, I scheme, I write, I dream, I laugh, I cry, I vent, I celebrate, I play Nintendo DS, I send text messages, I talk on the phone. If it can possibly be done in a bathtub, you’ll find me doing it in mine.
I have a very agreeable and understanding husband; we have not one, but two soaker tubs in our house. The first is perfect for one person. It is 18 inches deep and five feet long, ideal for a shorty like me. The other is deeper, wider and six feet long, which makes it perfect for two people. *Grin*
            Just to make my obsession complete, I have a collection of bath products to use in the tub. After all, one can hardly expect a girl to use the same scent every day. I’ve got bubble baths, bath oils, and bath salts to make me smell pretty. I’ve got sea salt and Epsom salt for aches and pains. I’ve even got bubble bath-shampoo combinations.
You can't see the bath salts on the lower shelf (I didn't
think you needed a full view of all my TP.)
Also missing are all the bath products on my two tubs.

            So why did I bring this up? Simple!  This blog is about my life and my writing. I spend a lot of time in the tub. While I ease away the strain of my workouts, (don’t even get me started on how much I hate the gym!) I can relax and let my mind go to work. As I lie there half asleep, my mind scoots around in little circles solving my problems or plotting my stories. I’ve had some wicked good ideas in the tub. You would not believe what this devious mind is capable of coming up with!
            When I have an issue in my life, or in my stories that I just cannot seem to solve, there is only one solution, a trip to the bathtub. Things get solved there. There is no better place for a pity party than the bathtub.
When I was younger, I lived in a small northern Alberta town. Waaaaay back then, I could slip into my shoes and head out the door, any time of the day. Walking those small town streets late at night I could feel safe and anonymous and just pace and think. Now I’m a big city girl and the night-time streets aren’t so safe anymore. I’ve tried hitting the treadmill, and while my mind does work on the mill, somehow it is just not the same as walking in the dark and thinking. So, off to the tub I go, I shut off the light, slide under the bubbles into that hot, scented water and let my mind drift . . .


(Oh yeah, here’s a tip: If you ever run out of bubble bath, your favourite shampoo or Sunlight dish soap will work great in a pinch. Of course it’s might be a while before I run short of bubbles again.)