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.