Though I never developed a deep and abiding love for The Smiths/Morrissey or The Cure. Music shouldn't make me want to slit my wrists.

This is why I never listen to that I Hope You Dance song.

You know what I think we should do? Start a Bitches wishlist. We all need a pick-me-up once in a while, and I don't know about the rest of you, but it makes me feel good when someone receives a gift unexpectedly.

I think it's an excellent idea. Did you know Sephora offers a registry service now?

I like the way Plei thinks, and I like the idea of the Bitchlist. I have actually wished I could send a pick-me-up to folks here, but I never know what anyone has.

I still suck at housework. No matter how hard I try, the place just doesn't look clean when I'm done. Thus I paid the money to have a housekeeper come in before we had guests.

Movie rentals here are as expenisive as buying a DVD from secondspin or the Amazon affiliates, but since we don't have TV, the occasional movie or TV-on-DVD really helps. I do get sick of everyone else here talking about how they are going to Crete or Italy or whatever. "Have you been? Oh, you really should! It's lovely!" Yes, I know. But even without the baby we can't afford to travel.

The job here is still hanging fire, with repeated crankygrams to Washington to get my clearance. I'm still of two minds about it - my take-home will be $3.78/month after babysitting expenses, so it's not a financial help. I can't decide whether the benefits of having an employment record while here, and the adult interaction, outweigh staying home and encouraging Mallory to develop superpowers. But it's still moot anyway.

Oh, and speaking of, interview-ma to P-C!

I don't get why people say he's gloomy. He's Tragickal and Amusing.

IF you listen to the lyrics. The music itself hits the "OMG! Kill me now!" button.

And of course I'm evil. I just hide it.

This is why I never listen to that I Hope You Dance song.

Bwah! Her voice grates on me. The nasal tone constantly makes me think she's a shade flat.

idea of the Bitchlist

I think we have the name.

How long are you expected to be there? It may not help much, but you are more than welcome to come visit us in Italy. Hopefully I'll be there next summer, and there's plenty of room in the condo. Southern Italy isn't as glamourous as the northern portion, but it's got a charm all of its own.

I hope the job sitch works itself out for you.

Oh, and speaking of, interview-ma to P-C!

Ditto!

Skinny Puppy and Front 242

Ooooh... I haven't heard those names since high school. The lightbulb-powered alternative station played "Welcome To Paradise" just about 24/7, which seemed appropriate for Tulsa.

Though I never developed a deep and abiding love for The Smiths/Morrissey or The Cure. Music shouldn't make me want to slit my wrists.

I listened to the Cure and Smiths (and have a varying assortment of their CDs and tapes hanging about here), but I never was a big fan. I really wasn't into Depeche at all.

I would get an F-minus-minus on any goth test, despite hanging out with goths in college. I guess I graviatated more towards the stoners, even with my rampant lack of drug use.

What I don't get, though, is how I could absolutely despise country music from birth through college, yet now would love to be the filling of a Neko Case-Laura Cantrell sandwich. Or Alison Krauss' love slave. Or Kasey Chambers' babydaddy. Or be Harold to Loretta Lynn's Maude. Or have a bed-sharing agreement with the Be Good Tanyas.

Oh, Susan's going to kill me.

Perhaps it could be an addition to the list that Deena maintains. Or not. I may very well be talking out of my ass.

I love the idea. I was thinking about asking people to update with some additions anyway--especially e-mail addresses, since gmail didn't exist when I first started it and lots of people have switched.

I really wasn't into Depeche at all.

My first alt-music love. Though their latest few attempts at an album suck like a hooker on the strip. It's sad to say, but David Gahan was never the same once he sobered up. (Not that I advocate staying drunk and/or high, and I'd rather he live a long-ish life than make another Music for the Masses.)

Susan's going to kill me.

No way, no how. (ref. her lust for Sean Bean)

edit: Must. Close. Parens.

It may not help much, but you are more than welcome to come visit us in Italy.

Thanks! And back atcha, for when you and the new DH are in the Med.

Deena! Great suggestion about illustrations - I'm working on it right now.

Deena, I know why I'm still up, but why are you still up? I hope it's not a flare-up.

(Can I use the word "up" any more?)

Though their latest few attempts at an album suck like a hooker on the strip. It's sad to say, but David Gahan was never the same once he sobered up.

Really? I think Martin's songwriting got way less self-indulgent handstapleforehead, starting with Music for the Masses (though there's still some of it there), so I find that almost everything I listen to is off that or later. Well, okay. I own my love for Black Celebration (the song) and Stripped.

And they still kicked live ass in 2001. Though for the love of Mike, someone tell Dave to please, please, please keep the shirt on his pasty white self.

OK, perhaps I exaggerated a bit. The disappointment really started with Ultra, but hit full force with Exciter. There's a new one coming out in October, and I won't buy this one without taking it for a test listen first.

Though for the love of Mike, someone tell Dave to please, please, please keep the shirt on his pasty white self.

ITA. It's not a pretty sight. And they've always kicked ass live. Probably will continue to do so when they're dead, too.