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Thursday, February 25, 2010

Frustrated Incorporated!

Remember that Soul Asylum song? I think it was like, their "comeback" of sorts onto the music scene. I may have even used the terms in previous posts. Much like Boner, it sounds familiar to my writing. Speaking of Soul Asylum, where are they now? Don't you feel like their lead singer could have been on the Adam Duritz or Billy Corgan person of interest, particularly to hot young pop culturally relevant people for dating, list of over-achievers from bands in rumored relationships? I do. That was a horrible sentence. I don't even know if it's a sentence. But I feel like Soul Asylum guy could have dated way hotter than his league with ease. He was that white guy with dreads who seemed SO DISAFFECTED and outsidered! What a persona to use for lady action.

Speaking of comebacks of a sort, Cyndi Lauper is going to be on The Apprentice. Ever since that was announced, I've noticed a sudden increase in air play for her songs. I'm certain that's not a coincidence, but it's certainly a boon for Cyndi Lauper fans (me). Lately a lot of air time for "All Through the Night" has made me very happy. Check it out. Also, check out her legs! Man! I don't remember those from the 80s. She-bop, indeed. Anyway, I think the lyrics to this song are quite beautiful on the whole, and when I catch it on the radio I usually enjoy some poignant car singing. I'm kind of not sure why she's doing The Apprentice, frankly. Particularly given my new love of the Sundance and Logo channels in their programming. I think Cyndi could be a star there, even serving in the Sharon Osbourne role for a show, but maybe she wanted to keep it mainstream? Don't know. But Cyndi, welcome back. Always glad to see you, Time after time.

I'm still at my desk, stewing in my own frustration (girls just wanna have fun!, after all), wondering if it's possible to give oneself a stress toothache in addition to a stress headache. I don't know, but why can I feel one side of my face throb while the other sits gummin' away as usual. Dunno dunno. But from forehead to jaw to tooth, something's not right with the left. I guess it's my left? Your right? Is that a term like stage right? Face right? Again, don't know.

Today I had a doctor's appointment that even included a blood draw. The lab for labwork - blood, urine, x-ray - was downstairs. I ended up in the small corner of the world of a blood technician who introduced herself to me by saying she'd be "my vampire" for the day. Given vampire popularity of late, that's quite a claim to make to a stranger! But, given her skill at actually extracting blood from veins by way of pokey things, I suppose it was apt.

Not an off-handed joke for her, however. This lady had formally and officially found her corner of the world - her domain, her space to be herself in the workplace and do her thing and do it well. Originally, when I arrived at the lab after the sterile doctors' office confines, I was shocked by the blaring music of the Clash. Um, huh? You're going to watch me bleed? Band-aids and The Cure - great. There were also Halloween decorations, skulls in particular, adorning things. It was upon seeing the blood technician that I realized that all of the batty accoutrement was intentional, not horribly out of season. This chick loved her goth stuff.

The thing was, her aesthetic crossed many many versions of pop subculture. The music, the clothes, the hair, the decor - it was a little bit all over the place, but the message, in the interdisciplinary genre combine of "outsiderness", was clear - I am NOT playing by the rules (except where mandated by law in the handling of hematological fluids). She chose the label goth. Do I think some goths would fight her and accuse her of wannabe-in it? Yes.
(did the image of a goth-cage-match just excite me? a bit. but it's won by like, out-emo-ing somemone).

I could not guesstimate an age, even based on context clues that she had a child who was old enough to be sent "upstate" to be raised to avoid gang activity. She said that her family was the goth family on the street of gangbangers. My image of a goth family, aside from the original Aadamses, is probably formed by memories of episodes of Wife Swap where a family self-identified as "the goth family." She looked more than happy to be a part of such a label. And, with her Snookie-length, jet black hair, which was crusted into hm...Edward Scissorhandsesque knots near the roots, she was happy as could be. And yep - bang. In, stuck, bleeding, out. She was good. At the time I was like, man I don't think I'd want to work in my own goth blood basement office. But right now, I very much see the genius there, curled around the orange and black skeleton garland tenderly resting on the "Notice of Insurance Policy Implications" signage.

I have no idea what my equivalent corner of the world would be.
I doubt it would be goth, even though the Aadams Family showed at the beginning of every episode - it's a snap.

1 comment:

  1. All through the night indeed, my sister. All through the night, indeed.

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