A smattering of chattering
Random stuff, in the order that they occur to me:
1) The Rolling Stone 500 Albums listening project is off to a good start: Ask Rufus by Rufus with Chaka Khan, Los Angeles by X, Nevermind by Nirvana (the only one here I'd listened to in full before now), The Clash self-titled, Dónde Están los Ladrones by Shakira, and Mama's Gun by Erykah Badu, in that order. Six albums, six thumbs up. Since they're supposed to be in random order, I've been having hypnagogie pull the index cards. I told her she's been good luck so far; she says, "Or is it because you love music?" Since she just pulled Willy and the Poor Boys by Creedence Clearwater Revival, I'm sticking with the good luck theory. (For now, anyway. Drake could turn up aaaaany second now.)
2) I finally posted a new YouTube video after a more-than-two-month silence, having finally recovered sufficiently from the dag-flabberin' click-and-drag NIGHTMARE I'd set for myself on the previous one. I'm still trying to get up the gumption to put myself back on camera, but I did settle for doing a voiceover, which is plenty vulnerable and gives me ample opportunity to cuss about my lack of decent gear. The vid has been received well-apparently people like it better when you don't smack them with a 45-minute clip montage, go figure.
3) True to form, I've already started the next video. Hi, I'm Adam.
4) I picked up some vanilla ice cream and blood orange Sanpellegrino to make a concoction I whipped up when we had COVID last year and were spending our time mainlining Murder She Wrote reruns and praying for morphine. Simple enough recipe: vanilla ice cream, blood orange Sanpellegrino, blender, pour, drink. Very comforting when you're spiking a temperature. We called it the "Fever Dreamsicle" mainly because hypnagogie wouldn't let me call it "Et Tu, Fruté". (I haven't made it yet this week, because I can't be arsed to haul out the blender.)
5) To be clear: even if I'm not replying, I'm reading. I'm pleased to be shown this part of your life.