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On Thursday afternoon I was in the car and in the span of two hours, I heard THREE different Ashanti songs -- Unfoolish, What's Luv, and her more recent one (Only U?). I got scared that Ashanti had died. Ok, I wasn't really "scared", but you know.
But hearing songs that were played to death the summer of 2002 made me even more impatient for the radio to start playing "summer jams". C'mon people. It's getting warm, it's time for recording artists to start releasing their best singles to the radio for us to play in the car with the windows down. Otherwise, I'm gonna have to keep driving around looking hard with Anita Baker blaring from my speakers from the soft rock stations.
Oh, and everyone should read this book:
Tomorrow in the Battle Think On Me by Javier Marias
"It's tiring having always to move in the shadows, having to watch without being seen, doing one's best not to be discovered, just as it's tiring having to keep oneself a secret or a mystery, how wearisome clandestinity is, constantly having to bear in mind that not all your close friends can be privy to the same information, that you have to hide one thing from one friend and something else from another, something the first friend already knows about, you invent complex stories for one woman and, in order not to betray yourself later, you have to fix the details of those stories for even in your memory, as if you really had experienced them, to another newer woman friend you tell the truth about everything apart from certain innocuous, but embarrassing facts about yourself: the fact that you can happily spend hours in front of the television watching soccer or mindless quiz shows, that you still read comics even though you're now an adult, that you would happily lie down on the floor and play heads or tails -- if you had someone else to play with, that you're hooked on gambling, that you fancy an actress you know to be odious and even offensive, and that you wake up in the morning in a foul mood and the first thing you do is light up a cigarette, that you fantasize about a particular sexual practice most people consider abnormal and which you dare not suggest to her."
I'm trying to maintain my reading momentum so I've already started on Meditations in Green by Stephen Wright.
Thus concludes today's section of Raybear's Book Club.
But hearing songs that were played to death the summer of 2002 made me even more impatient for the radio to start playing "summer jams". C'mon people. It's getting warm, it's time for recording artists to start releasing their best singles to the radio for us to play in the car with the windows down. Otherwise, I'm gonna have to keep driving around looking hard with Anita Baker blaring from my speakers from the soft rock stations.
Oh, and everyone should read this book:
Tomorrow in the Battle Think On Me by Javier Marias
"It's tiring having always to move in the shadows, having to watch without being seen, doing one's best not to be discovered, just as it's tiring having to keep oneself a secret or a mystery, how wearisome clandestinity is, constantly having to bear in mind that not all your close friends can be privy to the same information, that you have to hide one thing from one friend and something else from another, something the first friend already knows about, you invent complex stories for one woman and, in order not to betray yourself later, you have to fix the details of those stories for even in your memory, as if you really had experienced them, to another newer woman friend you tell the truth about everything apart from certain innocuous, but embarrassing facts about yourself: the fact that you can happily spend hours in front of the television watching soccer or mindless quiz shows, that you still read comics even though you're now an adult, that you would happily lie down on the floor and play heads or tails -- if you had someone else to play with, that you're hooked on gambling, that you fancy an actress you know to be odious and even offensive, and that you wake up in the morning in a foul mood and the first thing you do is light up a cigarette, that you fantasize about a particular sexual practice most people consider abnormal and which you dare not suggest to her."
I'm trying to maintain my reading momentum so I've already started on Meditations in Green by Stephen Wright.
Thus concludes today's section of Raybear's Book Club.
