Yes, yes, no new updates. Before this would have been caused by existential crises. Now it is caused by an utter lack of interesting developments. All entries would read:
“Today I went to work. And then I came home.”
It would be really dull.
The thing is, work is not dull. But as I have learned from the many before me, it is unwise to blog about work unless your boss knows and sanctions such a thing and you haven’t, like myself, signed numerous confidentiality agreements that prohibit you from telling the really interesting bits. Bits that involve state troopers. Bits that would summarize my day in saying “And then I started screaming and didn’t stop.”
This “wanting to scream” thing is particularly true today. And I didn’t have the time or energy to roller-brush my hair dry, so it is wild and big, not unlike the mane of a lioness. And I’m dressed all in black. So I’m tramping around campus, an ever-enlarging onyx she-creature stifiling the primal noises that are but an inch from surfacing.
Behold, I am Mid-level College Administrator. Fear me.
In other news, Josh Groban has a new CD out. And I did not buy it. Hear me out on this. First, this “new” CD has songs on it that were all previously released some place else. And they sound better on the other CDs. I’ve heard the man live and I know he can sound amazing in person; I don’t think he needs to have production cover up flaws in his voice. However, live recordings rarely do their artists any favors--why do I need new music with screaming in the background? And the new CD comes with a DVD of a concert set I saw in person (third row!). Why should I spend money on that? The Internet pre-order edition has different cover art and, like, two extra songs I also already own.
Despite all of this, last night I was on Itunes and I listened to the ever-so-slightly different version of “Weeping” and I almost relented and bought the album. Because Groban does that to me. Because his curls coil, Medusa like, around my heart and bind me inextricably to the Warner Brothers marketing machine. “I will change the world with you, Josh Groban!” I cry. And George Bush did just send me that economic stimulus check . . .
But no, for once, I was strong. I urge you to resist this CD and DVD set too, unless you actually watch concert DVDs more than once and you will never see him in person.
But maybe I’ll listen to the other 6 recordings I have of him. It will at least muffle the screams.
