Whether in school, at the command of a therapist or like me, when you’re bored half to DEATH at work, we’ve all composed one of those “Things I want to Do Before I Die” lists. Aspiring authors have a version all their own, mostly containing items related to best-sellers lists and appearances on Oprah.
I, on the other hand, just want to be in Paper Cuts. Every Wednesday, the book blog of the NYT, does a Living With Music entry, wherein some author provides a playlist or sorts, complete with a great explanation of why each song is included and today’s case, a literary companion for the piece. Even though I hardly EVER know the author in question (usually a member of the cooler-than-thou literati) and even worse, find the majority of song selections pretentious and “indie-kid-hip”, I just adore reading it.
And now I dream about being in it. My very own Wednesday, where I can email the link to everyone in my address book and spend the day laughing my ass off at all the comments rolling in from my friends and family where they things like “I cannot BELIEVE you told the whole WORLD about that cyst on my ass!” or “You were lying when you said you like to dance around naked to I Like Big Butts, right?”
I’d be so proud.