Not to be *too* suffused with self-pity, but when you're shivering in your empty office doing freelance at 2:30 a.m. on a *Sunday night* (inorganic...just not natural), finishing up a first pass at a project that is on Hour -- God, I don't know -- Hour Twelve Dozen or something -- and basically does not reflect this (the worst part) -- the music one listens to becomes quite important. I got through it with Mozart, Doris Day, the Velvet Underground, A Little Night Music, some stuff I was too hallucinatory to remember and Harvey Girls. Which means that today I have alternating swooping in one ear and then the other, "I was the LILlian RUSsell/Of CHERryville, KANsas" and "We were SCHOOLmarms/from Grand Rapids, MICH." Among other bits.
One of the actual all-time best "Are You Being Served?"s last night was small little giftie (taped it) when I got home. It's the one where everyone thinks Mrs. Slocum is turning 50 and they're trying to figure out what to get her. It's good because it's actually OH GOD BORING POPCULT WANKITUDE but really -- small in scope, and real burlesque. Goofy jokes and enough momentum. Plus I adore Mrs. Slocum. Actually, that's another voice issue there. She just rocks. Her fake posh voice is genius. What can I say, I laughed. "I laughed." Is that like the "Jesus wept" of the blog world?
Getting on a plane...we'll what there is to write about in CO.