So, today sees me having finally finished what I think is going to be the last "going away" entry I actually find it necessary to write (other than my inevitable "A freshly-unemployed Publishing Professional Reviews The New Springsteen" post for my next go-round at A Good Blog Is Hard To Find), and this one's the hard one. I just signed, sealed and delivered (or some other cliché about being done with something-"nail, coffin" anyone?) my final blog for the Wordsmiths store blog.
There's been some good that came of today, though-in addition to me writing my three-line bio for BabyGotBooks, some exciting things arrived in the mail (and if I was a faux-Anglophile who said things like "trainers" and "cuppa" I would have said "popped in the Post" or such):
Not to be all like Kanye West screaming "HEY GUYS CHECK OUT THIS FLY-ASS PEACOAT Y'ALL", but those are my new, super-hawt RussComm business cards designed by Amanda Lauter(haus).
Oh, and, also...what's that? What did someone send me to review for Resonator?
MARIAH. CAREY. THE. BALLADS.
I am CONFUSED as to how "Dreamlover" snuck onto a Mariah compilation titled Ballads , but that as possible Mariah Carey compilation trespasses go, that one's minor.
(Gonna overlook the fact that "Always Be My Baby", aka ALSO NOT A BALLAD, is on here as well. If we're going to play "Not A Ballad" Mariah Carey compilation making time, where the hell is "Emotions" and/or "All I Want For Christmas is You"?)
I mean, there's "Hero", I song I played the hell out of when I had it on cassingle, and, by god, "One Sweet Day". The meeting of the brilliant, flaxen-voiced lovebutter-on-silk-on-creme Mariah "The Pipes" Carey with Boyz "The Pipes" II "More Pipes" Men.
Come on, "One Sweet Day" was my and my first girlfriend ever's song.
Now, granted, that song was about a dead Grandma or old yeller or Jesus or Clinton something, but still, I get all misty-eyed and romantic when I hear it, thinking about holding hands and walking the mall, heading straight for Bath and Body Works to watch her buy Peaberry lotion with a gift certificate.
Now that is love. And that is obviously what this fine compilation of brilliant songs hopes to conjur: true, Peaberry-lotion-scented teenage love. Mariah-you, miss, will always be my baby.