I could never be your rock critic

Strong opinions about music have led me into trouble more times than I can count, and I tend to change my mind about these things over time anyway, which makes fastidiousness seem silly. (ssssss.)

I think that in many cases I develop a nuanced connection to the material over time - exalting the positive while gently forgiving the negative (welcome to yet another bad boyfriend analogy).

And still, some artists creep up on me and immediately I just want to screeeeeam rather than listen to them. Today I tried out a new album - a free download, so no names because that would be unforgivable ingratitude - which is supposed to be an r&b record, about which I thought, "hooray! ", forgetting that r&b no longer exists and instead we're faced with music that makes you feel like you're covered with hot slime. What I really want to say is "BARF BARF BARF X1000 NEGATIVE EIGHT STARS PLEASE NEVER MAKE SOUNDS AGAIN." But that might negate someone else's beautiful experience with the hot slime album, so I won't. It's agony.

Related: I went to an art show a couple of months ago where all I wanted to do was scream "WHY DOES SHE ALWAYS HAVE TO MAKE IT ABOUT BOOBS?" But I waited until I got home instead, which I felt was evidence of growth.

Questions for a hypothetical conversation with Steve Coogan

This is the face he would make during the interview.

1. Having built up and torn down many characters, some of them over the course of decades, do you ever find yourself slipping into them accidentally, in your mind?
2. Do you think of yourself as a character, noticing your own traits and the way that you speak and walk and dress and so forth? Does thinking about how to be different characters make you more self-conscious? Is this how you ended up playing versions of yourself professionally?
3. Do you prefer playing characters you've created, or is it more relaxed to let someone else write you a part which you can then leave behind when the project's over, eg Roderick the water rat? (Could you ever accidentally slip into Roderick?)
4. Are there aspects of your characters that are aspirational? Do you wish you knew as much about wasps as Tommy Saxondale, for example? Do you wish you were as emotionally resilient as Alan? (Or maybe you do have these things? Would you be able to help me with the raccoons in my shed?)
5. Do you ever wish people would stop laughing and just take you seriously for once?

Ultra-petite daywear.

One of my remotest friends had himself a baby earlier this year, which, you know, finally. Babies are nice, because they don't mind if you make an irrational fuss over them. They don't give you the eyebrows (you know the ones). They feel they're worthy of your devotion. It must be a nice place to be! I've also heard that they vomit unexpectedly and can be cantankerous, but I think that happens behind closed doors, with mother, at 3am. I'm very inexperienced. More of a baby tourist, over here.

As such, I like to dress them up like little squishy dolls!


Green because she is sort of a redhead, as far as I can tell. Those buttons are like tiny sheriff badges. I die.

The Edible Woman s13e73

This morning my tea smiled up at me with five thousand tiny, shiny bubble eyes. "Charming," you might say. I let it go cold and then tipped it in the sink (after grabbing the appropriate evidence, as you see).

That book is just totally self-indulgent, isn't it? I'm sure that's why I like it. BARF.