It Could Be Worse

So bored with listening to the same songs over and over, all day, for eight hours on my ipod, I recently started bringing old CDs from my collection to the office. And I am beginning to think if there is one thing that we need to bring back in a major way, it is the good ol’ mixed CD. Hear me now, believe me later.

One of my favourite episodes, of my favourite new show, How I Met Your Mother, the main character is trying to win back the girl of his dreams and decided he needs to make some sort of grand gesture. His friends ask him how he is to go about winning back this girl, and his simple answer is, mixed CD.

Preference dates of yore have all been won over with the powerful CDs that I make. As we are all given different talents in this world, I must admit that one of my talents is making a mean mix. (Testify ladies who received ‘A Year In The Life’ last year.) That and also that I have a weird talent of snapping loudly. Not really that useful in everyday life.

I love every aspect of the CD creation. From finding the songs, carefully choosing the song order, writing the liner notes, coming up with a title and cover, it seems to be one of my only artistic outlets.

Just happy with the weirdly named CDs I have today. And a flash back to all of my favourites from the early 2000s. (Have we figured out this decade yet?!?)

Pretty happy today. I have spent most of the day working hard, and eating all the weird Halloween candies I won at FHE last night. Does it seem horrible to you that a small, and I am talking small bag of Fuzzy Peaches is 45 calories? There are approximately 44 calories in an apple. I think I would take the apple over the 10 candies I received.

We played the old standby “Two Truths and One Lie” game for FHE last night. Wherein, I cleaned up. It isn’t that I have awesome powers of discernment, but the people made their lies so lame. Plus when questioned further the stories they came up with to justify their lies, their stories were just lame. No one got my lie. No, I don’t like olives. But no one questioned it because I have a pretty good olive knowledge. Am I a good liar, or a good storyteller. Or are good storytellers, just good liars?

Finding it:

Hard to let go and lose, especially to her.

Hoping that:

That the rest of the afternoon goes just as quickly as the morning.

Good Luck, and by all means, God Speed.