My newest psychosis is listening over and over and over to the Caro Emerald song, “A Night Like This.” Really, I need an intervention.
It’s just the mood lifter I’ve needed this past week, and it is so catchy that I just put it on repeat and it is the perfect white noise for writing. I find myself clickety-clacking to the beat, but hey, it’s helping me write, so “hesh-yo-mouf” as they say around here.
It reminds me, of course, of all the ambient sounds that can really get in my head when I need to concentrate and I’ve managed to get into that zone, only to suddenly hear the hum of the lights. That’s probably the most annoying thing ever, to be so focused that a sound I wouldn’t ordinarily hear becomes a gigantic distraction. Thus, I play music that becomes so familiar I can tune it out.
I know people do it. I can name a few, but overall, it’s probably a tool that not many people admit to using. I mean, it looks pretty crazy to admit to listening to the same song for an hour straight and not be 16, mooning over an unrequited love, and wallowing in teen-aged angst.
Nope. I’m just happily getting some writing done. It’s nice to be able to finish this project that I’ve been working on in one manifestation or another for about a decade. It’s not that I’ve been writing for ten years, but that I needed to round out my experiences in order to finish it the way I am. That’s all you get for the moment. In actuality, this little baby is old enough to go to kindergarten now, so I figure I should just finish it, as in, stop writing and start editing.
That’s a bad word, by the way. If I love to write, I hate to edit. That’s why I have a stack of unfinished manuscripts. I hate to edit. Or maybe, the exercise was just writing the darn thing. It’s done and out of my system, why labor over finished business?
Because if I don’t finish the editing, no one will read my work. No one will swoop in and pay me obscene amounts of money to buy it from me. I won’t make millions of dollars. I won’t be able to have that beach house on the east coast of Florida. I won’t be able to get plastic surgery and look like Joan Rivers!
Hmmm. Breathe. And switch to a more calming song by Vivaldi.
As I was saying, if I don’t finish editing I won’t have a polished product that I can be proud of showing to people who may like to read my work. Yes. That’s a bit more normal-sounding.
And I really want to be rich and buy an iPad.
Explain to me the relation between the song and the picture.
Jaja, Mami. Um, there is no relationship?
I just like the song. And would like to be rich enough to have ridiculous plastic surgeries that ultimately make me look like Zsa Zsa Gabor (that doesn’t look like Joan Rivers anymore, don’t you think?)
Call me and we’ll laugh about it. 🙂
love,
Bego
This silly song now added to my iPhone. Thanks!
And as I tell all the women in my life: Don’t touch your face!
Go nuts anywhere else though…
-Danny
Nope, that definitely does NOT look like Joan Rivers anymore. It looks like an alien or something… why do they do that? Joan Rivers was never pretty, but what she has done to her face is unspeakable.
I have never written a book, but if I do, when the time to edit comes I’ll think of you… and probably ask you for help… trololol!
No denying it’s catchy. I downloaded it myself. The Latin beat, her vocal style, and choice of instrumentation give it a pleasantly retro feel. I can imagine it in a movie starring The Rat Pack or one of the classic ’60s James Bond movies with Sean Connery.
Just listened to it it’s a feel good song. Made me smile. Thanks.