I Ain’t Freakin’; I Ain’t Fakin’ This
Music is very personal, so my first instinct is to keep my playlists to myself. However, I have been offered hundreds of dollars in jukebox cash from strangers to keep the party going with my eclectic favorites. And, this is my blog and I’ll blog what I want to.
Introducing the following as my ‘heavy rotation’ sounds…
Stronger Than Me Amy Winehouse
Jenny Don’t Be Hasty Paolo Nutini
Cheryl Tweedy (Single) Lily Allen
Young Folks Peter Bjorn and John
Shut Up And Let Me Go The Ting Tings
Hard To Live In The City Albert Hammond Jr.
Hang Me Up To DryCold War Kids
There Goes The Neighborhood Sheryl Crow
My Favorite Mistake Sheryl Crow
Midnight Rider The Allman Brothers Band
The Queen And I Gym Class Heroes
Bang, Bang (Erica Jennings) Tracy Young
Yeah, so the artists all over the place, underground, mainstream, rock, hip hop, country, punk…Great music is timeless and has no genre. Beats and lyrics that stir something in us can come in every form.
My friend Georgie came over the other night to bugger me. He had way too many cocktails and god knows what else. I made him a muenster grilled cheese, which he wolfed, and then he passed out on my bed. I love Georgie, and my only non-issue with him is he is a cryer.
I’ve known a few men to cry, none that I look at quite the same as non-cryers. Blame it on the social-constructs. I’ve known my dad for 31 years, he’s had plenty to cry about, but I’ve not ever seen it with my own eyes. I’ve had a couple boyfriends that were cryers. Crying is okay in some instances for the male sect. Funerals, birth of their children, and a few other cases. Georgie was crying because he claimed he was just so lonely. I went with it, if I didn’t, I would’ve been accused of being callous.
Maybe I am callous to men lacking inner strength, emotional strength. I guess my explanation might be, if they think they’re in such a sad condition, they should try being a woman for day. Yes, today my feminists defenses are up. En guard (prepare thyself)!