Michaela

Every once in a while, it’s a treat to set your music-playing apparatus, or eye-pawd, to My Top Rated. Until today, I really hadn’t realized how many songs I will automatically forward past. Which leads my pea brain to wonder why I have them there in the first place. Is it the lure of seeing the size of your drive increase, knowing you have finally achieved 1000+ songs in your archive? Is it the need to own a truly wide selection of tunes because you listen to said apparatus virtually eight hours a day, five days a week and listening to the same 300 songs over and over will only lead to madness?

One thing that’s led me to expanding my music collection, other than the guys at the used cd warehouse I frequent, is a little website called Pandora dot com. I realize I might be showing up late to the party, but if you’ve not heard of it, I highly recommend it. I’ll say no more because I want you all to be pleasantly surprised.

Something else I’ve noticed about Michaela: she enjoys the sappiness. I personally blame her for downloading any song that moans and wails about lost love or unrequited love or ‘we were meant for each other soulmates fated for each other perfect love’ songs. Haunting melodies are also popular, even if the lyrics stray from the strictly diabetes-inducing variety. A close second in the ratings race: angry young woman music. These songs range from Joan Jett to Simple Plan and seem to especially appreciate cover songs by bands I would not ordinarily listen to. Covers in general and live, acoustic covers in particular make so many appearances I’ve been able to burn three cd’s worth of material for friends who share my….I mean Michaela’s….taste in such things.

Next pay, I’m off to get Death Cab for Cutie, Vertical Horizon and the new Train. Sorry, Stabilo Boss, you and your evil Virgin/EMI copy protection can bite my left one; I’ll enjoy your creations for free, if you know what I mean. Your loss.

Now playing: Please Don’t, Big Head Todd & The Monsters.

Aside: The big cheese is annoying the hell out of me today. Yesterday and today he’s been popping in and out of his office like he’s involved in some sort of human Whack-A-Mole game. And boy howdy, do I want to take up one of those soft mallets and give him a poke; he seriously needs a dart full of Valium in his arse. It doesn’t help that we’re approaching year-end, so he’s already spazzy enough. Gah, saints preserve me.

Posted at 3:13 p.m.