I will tell you honestly — I’m not having the best week. It hurts to type this, because I injured my thumb. How you ask? We have these weekly meetings. I call them The Ayn Rand Power Hour. I lose my mind. Any meeting makes me do this; we had some meetings at the newspaper every year we used to call Death By Gallup. I think you can get the gist of all these meetings.

I feel like an animal trapped in a cage, and I can only doodle and write the soliloquy from Hamlet so many times before I go insane and start….chewing on a hangnail.

And so, I am injured and bloodied.

Tomorrow I’m getting TWO fillings at 8 a.m. More fun to look forward to. Is it any wonder I am going to hole up in my house this weekend and have a mini-film festival with my husband? We each get to pick three movies from the Netflix queue and go for it. If the movie sucks after 30 minutes and we both agree, it goes off. So far, I have only committed to Klown. Yes, I said Klown.

I told my husband tonight I just can’t watch TV anymore. I have  only two shows I watch regularly and one is Parks and Rec. I can stay up to 8:30 on Thursday for the wit and wisdom of Ron Swanson (banks ARE Ponzi schemes designed to steal your money!), and I watch my other fave, Suburgatory, on Saturday afternoons. What, you’re shocked? Yes, I confess, this show consistently cracks me up. And I adore Alan Tudyk, and have since A Knight’s Tale. Don’t even ask about Firefly . You know that answer to that one. And Jon says I remind him of Tessa. I wish I was that tiny and redheaded, but I think he just says that because I force him to watch foreign movies he doesn’t want to see.Such as Klown.

Did you know Hollywood is remaking Klown? With Jack Black? Are you really that surprised?

That reminds me, I think I had Bernie on my three list.

So anyway, I just CAN’T with the TV anymore, because when I do, I invariably get caught up watching things like Splash, or Diving with the Semi-Stars, or whatever it’s called. Yes I did! I’m a snob and I watched that shite. I don’t know, you guys, I just love Greg Louganis, who I call “The old Greek Lesbian,” and I say that with LOVE because I am the girl who cried salty tears when he broke up with Steve Kmetko (remember HIM?) and said, “Where is the love? Why is it gone?”

I think reading and working out are going to become my de facto evening activities. So know you know.

And you also know why I love Suburgatory. Carly Chaiken. Seriously.

You missed a spot.

Usually when someone like Whitney Houston dies everyone goes all apeshit, but for me, this one is sad.

Bobbie Smith passes.

I have desperately been trying to find some Spinners vinyl, but no luck. My friend Joel and I used to sing “Games People Play” to each other on our smoke breaks at the paper. I think I’ll forward this to him, he will understand.

If you don’t like that song, you are dead inside.

What the hell, let’s do one more!

You all know I start my day with a big dose of Soul Train reruns. The Spinners remind me of my childhood. That music is so majestic. I think it’s the icy strings. Ah, the ’70s. I really DO miss you.

I am thankful I have a place to blather on about this, because I sure can’t do it at WORK. I will save that story for another day. I long to work at a place where I actually enjoy being around the people I work with.

Which is why I should work….for myself!

Last weekend was the figure skating world championships, and if you didn’t see it that’s because NO ONE CARES anymore. The ISU has killed my sport, given it a jacked up scoring system and now no one gives a flip. So, you watch it on YouTube or Latvian internet feeds and just thank the skating gods you got even a crumb of coverage.

Here’s one of my favorite routines for the weekend – the bronze medal winning free dance of Bobrova and Soloviev.

Much like one of Stefon’s nightclubs, it has everything: Flowing blonde hair, a black dress, red lipstick, a man in a white T-shirt and a hobo-esque grey cabled sweater, weird music changes from an Ennio Morricone harmonica tune to Disco Tosca!, robot dancing and a story line about insanity.

Enjoy!

As usual it’s Friday and I’m late getting ready for work, but just one quick thing before I go off for the weekend.

Last Sunday I actually managed to carve out some much needed ME time, and as happens when that happens, I just fire up the Netflix queue and say “what the hell.”

I can’t say Valhalla Rising will be for you unless you like:

a) Vikings.

b) Bloodshed

c) A weird sort of Terrence Malick vibe, mixed with the bloodshed

d) Hallucinations, Viking style

e) Mads Mikkelsen. With one eye!

Since all these things are on my “What makes me happy list”, I enjoyed it immensely. Be warned, limited dialogue. But honestly, do you REALLY need it?

I also watched the ballet documentary First Position, and though I loved all the dancers, including Michaela DePrince (what a story), I found myself most drawn to Miko Fogarty. Her “Esmerelda Variation” is giving me life. Tambourine life.

Have a great weekend!

I called in sick to work today because I had a massive migraine. I still feel headachey 15 hours later, but I can’t sit around doing nothing much longer. It absolutely maddens men.

When I went to check Facebook last night (yes, I am still checking it) I saw that an old friend was moving away. Today. I had no idea. I haven’t seen her in about four years, and she’s much older than me, but still, it made me very sad. We used to go to romance writing conferences together, all over the country. We had some fun, that’s for sure. I always felt guilty because she was pushing me to try harder, or maybe just pushing me to write more the way she wanted me to. Either way, I never really lived up to her expectations, and for that I feel a little guilty.

But it could be a rainy day and I’d feel guilty for the clouds, you know? That’s just me.

Anyway, the last time I saw her was when I worked in the shithole (Barnes and Noble). About a year before that she had taken me out to lunch after I was laid off the yarn store gig. She also invited a friend of hers who is the aunt of an infamous entrepreneur….and eventual white collar prisoner. I’ll say no more, to protect the innocent. And guilty!

We’ve been friends on FB, but we really haven’t talked. She has a 90 (!) year old mother she takes care of and a lot of family on the west coast. I wish her well, but I’ll miss the fun we used to have. The gossiping and dish. She was a true Southerner from Atlanta, and as the saying from Steel Magnolias goes, “If you can’t say something nice, come sit next to me!”

She was that kind of friend. Which in my world, is a beautiful thing. I’ll miss you, Darlene.

On Saturday, honey and I went to the movies, to see Dave Grohl’s Sound City.

I’ve never been to Sound City (recording studio) but I have been to Ocean Way (in LA) and let me tell you, that was a gas. Ask me sometime about how I got a Grammy-winning songwriter’s (who’s worked with Adele) phone number, and how I stalked me favorite (at the time, and still kind of sort of) Scottish band. I have photos from the studio of me standing by their equipment like an absolute grinning asshole. All taken on a disposable camera. Remember those?

We liked Sound City, and it got us thinking about how we are such analog fans here at Chez Tangodiva. I listen to records. I prefer to read books. And I miss the days when we didn’t need cell phones. I can’t walk down the fucking street without someone playing with their phones every two paces. I’m sick of it! Don’t even get me started on how bad it is at work.

After the movie, we went to see my friend John at Confusion Records. I told him I wanted some 1970s Soul Train realness, and this is what I got:

 

Honey is a big Brothers Johnson fan. He’s all about “Strawberry Letter 23” which is NOT on this album.

I was feeling some Chaka, so I got this. I already have the album she did with a single co-sung by Green of Scritti Politti. Ah, those were the days….This one even had its promo poster still in the sleeve!

I really need that framed for my living room.

In conclusion, I want to confess to the crime of driving in my car and using the cell phone at the same time. But not to talk. When I hear an old song I used to like come on and think I can maybe FINALLY get the lyrics I’ve been missing for 20-30 years straightened out, I put Sound Hound up to the speakers and go for it. Last week it was during Golden Earring’s “Twilight Zone,” and this is what I felt the need to decipher last night.

I had no clue the brunette in the hat ended up on Bravo’s Real Housewives franchise. But you know me, the only Real Housewives I’ve ever watched is the Atlanta version. You best bring your street game!

And btw, it’s totally the song I would sing on ’80s’ night on American Idol. I would do Miss Tina Turner’s version. After all, we share the same initials….