I am a child of the '80s, and in large part as a consequence, I really love synthpop. (If you're unfamiliar with the genre, the Eurythmics' song "Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)" is the archetypal example.) I don't actually own much of it, though. It hasn't been all that popular in the US since, well, the '80s. Complicating the matter is that ( Read more... )

You know, I think my single greatest exposure to classical music, as a child, was Looney Tunes.

When I was a freshman in college, a friend of mine said, "Never drink to forget about a girl. It makes her fucking omnipresent." He was right. It turns out, though, that the truth of this maxim is not limited strictly to relationships; it is also true for problems. Mind you, I'm not drinking to forget anything; I'm drinking because I bought a ( Read more... )

The following song was stuck in my head all morning at work last Thursday. It made analyzing gas volume losses a little more interesting. Odd, to be sure.

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I was actually rather busy all day at work (for a welcome change), and I'm feeling particularly lethargic now that I'm off antihistamines (going in for allergy tests next week; can't have those foul up the results), so I'm not in much of a mood to think through actually writing about whatever it was that I was originally going to post. Holy run-on ( Read more... )

Last week, at work, we got into a discussion on music when one of our coworkers was trying to buy tickets for an upcoming Kid Rock concert. The new intern and I are united in our loathing of Kid Rock (representative video posted below). I am so happy to finally have someone to back me up on this. I am utterly mystified as to what could possibly ( Read more... )

Well, Andy, I see your wine bottles and raise you some Gypsy jazz.

I am completely in love with Imogen HeapIn other news, my doctor put me on a prescription antihistamine in order to prevent me from getting sinus infections all the time, telling me that the mucus generated by my allergy to oak (a real problem, given that I work in a part of town called Post Oak) was a breeding ground for bacteria. He was right. ( Read more... )