Music On My Mind

My second job is working in a music/dvd/games/book store with the emphasis on the music and the movies so I have music and movies on my mind a lot these days. You may see a lot of brief posts on songs or artists in the future. But hey, short and sweet and musical is better than radio silence, yeah?

That said, I saw a friend of a friend make this comment about Lady Gaga on Facebook and I had to share because it made me snort with laughter.

During an opium bender David Bowie and Barbara Streisand had a male lovechild which they immediately bedazzled and then he grew up to get a botched sex change; and that is the story of Lady GaGa.

Not my quote, but hilarious and I wish I’d thought of it because it’s damn funny. And I actually secretly like Lady Gaga even if I think that she’s batshit crazy.


Ten Thousand Lightning Bugs

I’m coming out of blogging silence to say that I really, really, hate that song by Owl City, Fireflies.

you would not believe your eyes
if ten million fireflies lit up the world as i fell asleep
‘Cause they’d fill the open air
and leave teardrops everywhere
you’d think me rude but I would just stand and stare

Seriously? BLEGH.

Yes, really, that’s all.


I Can't Sleep, So This Is What You Get

Ah, it’s a damn good thing I didn’t try to do NaBloPoMo because dude, seriously, I’d have failed on day one. Kinda like I’m brutally failing NaNoWriMo. I’m supposed to have 50,000 words by midnight on November 30th. I currently have 2,000. That means that I’d have to write more than 7,000 words a day between now and the 30th and that includes an entire day in plane travel (I leave on Sunday to go visit my parents in Idaho), Thanksgiving, and two days spent driving from Boise to Eugene to pick up my stepsister from college. Somehow, I don’t see me hitting 50K.

There’s a police helicopter circling my neighborhood with its spotlight on. Oh, how I love living in the ghetto. Seriously. THE GHETTO.

Christmas is starting to annoy me. I think a lot of the fun has come out of it. I’m asked every year to give out Christmas lists and I get what’s on the list, but… there’s no surprise. My MIL this year has asked for a crock-pot and has even given us the brand name that she wants. That’s great, I don’t have any other ideas for what to get her, but what’s the fun in unwrapping a gift if you already know what it is? Meh.

I have a post in my drafts, an idea stolen from another blog, of 27 things to do before I turn 28. I’m kinda thinking that maybe just writing out 27 things will be a success at this point. I have NOTHING on the list. I also have a draft full of links, half of which are now irrelevant because I’ve taken so long to add to it and haven’t published it yet.

I posted a long long time ago about Wii Fit. I never posted that I finally got it about two months ago. Love it. Love love love it. My only gripe is that the exercises are so short. I’m hoping that they put out some aerobic games to use with the board. I’d so buy an entire game of step-aerobics or rhythmic boxing or hula hooping. Because seriously? I look like a jackass when I hula hoop, but I’m a jackass that is having a blast.

I should be reading right now. I’m still reading the same books that I was reading last time I posted about books and that was, erm, a long time ago. I’m a slacker.

I’ve had a lot of random thoughts through my head lately. Like, how long can a helicopter stay up in the air before they have to come down to gas up? What is the life span of a cow? I know. Random.

Do you watch Survivor? Did you see tonight’s episode? I’m not going to put any spoilers here, but no guaranteeing that there won’t be any in the comments. Holy awesome! I haven’t laughed that hard at a TV show in a long time. Best Survivor episode EVER.

I think maybe I shall try to go back to sleep now. Just because I’m up past midnight doesn’t mean that The Ana will sleep in later. Speaking of The Ana, she rolled over for the first time on Monday! Yahoo! I’ve copied Dooce and am writing her letters for each month, but I’m not posting them here. If you’re interested, you can check them out over here.

Th-th-that’s all folks.


I Wanna Have Boobies

My friend sent me an instant message just a few minutes ago telling me that he’d just watched The Pussycat Dolls new video and he realized right then that they epitomized all that was wrong with America.

I immediately made my way over to YouTube and found the video to watch it myself. Seriously. It is a sad sad day when the chorus of a hit song, sung by young impressionable girls all over the nation- hell, the world- goes like this:

When I grow up
I wanna see the world
Drive nice cars
I wanna have groupies

You don’t see the problem? Go listen to the song. It doesn’t sound like that’s what they’re singing. I swear up and down that the last line there is, “I wanna have boobies.” A quick search of the internet, including the message board on the Pussycat Dolls’ own website, shows that I’m not the only one hearing these lyrics wrong.

I don’t care what they say. They’re singing that they want to have boobies when they grow up and that’s just wrong. Hmph.



I can’t name you a single Kiss song. I’m sure that I’ve heard them before and I’m sure that I’d probably even be able to sing the words to a few, but I can’t match the song and the artist. Especially not when it comes to Kiss.

I still love love love Gene Simmons’ show Family Jewels. I can’t help it. This family just makes me laugh, no matter how foul of a mood I’m in. Gene is so completely clueless about what life in the real world is like, but he tries so very hard. His kids are the most awesomely down to earth kids, considering their lifestyle and their parentage. His non-wife, Shannon Tweed, is fantastic. She’s snarky and she’s fun and watching her and Gene together remind me of the kind of relationship that I would love to have.

I. Love. This. Show.


Scary Movies

I don’t do scary movies. I would like to enjoy them, I really would. There’s something intriguing about the racing heart, the tense muscles and the suspense of waiting for something to happen. Is that crazy? I can’t do it, though.

The first horror movie I ever saw was when I was in 7th grade and a bunch of us were hanging out for a slumber party. Someone had the bright idea of watching It. Now, I’ve never been a stand out of the crowd kind of girl. I’m a go with the flow-er. I was terrified. I was scared out of my fool mind. Did I say anything? Oh hell, no. I watched and I trembled. I’m lucky I’m not scared of clowns. Criminy. I had nightmares for weeks. Of course then, idiot that I am, I went and read the book which was WORSE. I read It in two days because I couldn’t read it and then go to sleep. I imagined creepy things in every shadow.

Since then, I’ve kept my horror movie experiences limited. Derek enjoys a scary movie every once in a while, but normally when he rents them, I hide in the other room. He did convince me to watch Jeepers Creepers with him, though. Then he decided it was a really great game to jump out at me from around every corner. I’m lucky I survived the night. In fact, so is he. He also rented The Ring and I wanted so badly to walk away, but… I had to know that it was over and everything was okay or I’d have nightmares. And I had nightmares anyway.

By far the worst movie experience I’ve had was when my ex took me to see The Blair Witch. Oh. My. God. I don’t care how much that movie is ridiculed. If it’s purpose was to scare the ever-loving piss out of people, it succeeded. I had to drive an hour home, at night, after that and I kept seeing figures in the trees on the side of the freeway. Despite the fact that I was driving 70mph down a freaking freeway, I was still petrified. That’s supernatural shit- what if hijacks my car? Argh!

Every once in a while I try and convince myself that I’ve gotten over this ridiculous fear and I venture out to see a new movie with enticing previews. Secret Window was the last time I tried that one. Even my love for Johnny Depp couldn’t save me. I was jittery all night long.

I think I need to just accept the fact that I can’t handle scary movies. The worst part is my reaction. I don’t just get scared. I get angry. How DARE that movie upset me? How DARE it make me question my very sanity and safety? Of course people then tease me about it and that only makes me more angry. So scary movies = angry Courtney. Not so much fun.

So the next time you want to head out the theater to catch the lastest horror flick, don’t ask me. Just, please, don’t ask.