Truth. Justice. Minesweeper.

Thursday, March 25, 2004

On the way home from work this morning I stopped at a used CD store. Most of my CDs are still back in Keysbury; I knew the size of the apartment I'd be moving into. (I'll pick them up next time I go home for vacation.) So now that I have a bit of money I can pick up some things to listen to.

What I'm Listening To

Oily-Moily - Singles
Cholera Joe Hopper - Pebble in My One Good Shoe
Ricky and the Balloons - Greatest Hits
Pugilism and the Third Autistic Cuckoo - Hot Potato
Crucial Taunt - Crucial Taunt
Del Paxton - Time to Blow
Endomorph - Interior Contusion
Seminal Fluids - Sex Pootie
Nazgul - Music to Wake the Dead
Carrie Lanier - Carrie Lanier

A word about that last one. I didn't buy it; Ingrid lent it to me.

Ingrid's around here a lot. She's a grad student in English at ECU, but she hates her officemates and her roommates, so she does a lot of her studying and thesis work in an empty office upstairs. And drops in on us when she gets bored. God only knows how she and Greyghost first got together; I've never had the nerve to ask.

Anyway, I'm looking at my new CDs and getting out a boombox Carl left behind in one of the filing cabinets when Ingrid shows up. "What've you got there?" she asked.

"Check it out."

She flipped through the discs with a certain raised-eyebrow attitude. "A little more eclectic than I would have predicted. Not bad."

"Thanks. What do you listen to?"

"I've been listening to a lot of opera lately. Not entirely by choice," she added, nodding at Greyghost's office.

"Any good?"

"I like some of it. Better than some of the stuff you've got here, anyway. Tell you what, there's one I like you can borrow. I'll get it later."

So now I'm listening to Carrie Lanier. Not really my thing, but she's got quite a voice.

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