A Friendly Musical Visit Every Day

The PTSD is really taking its toll, these days. It keeps stealing me out of the present moment and taking me into the past. I tried to watch a woodworking show I really like (woodworking shows are very cool. explain to me why they're not), and I couldn't concentrate at all. If I'd never seen the show before, I'd have said it was boring and it didn't hold my attention. But I've seen many episodes, so I know I like it. I know it's the PTSD that's placing itself in front of my face so I can't even see the television--that's the problem. I've learned coping mechanisms for dealing with PTSD flashbacks, but today I couldn't remember any of them. My brain had been that stolen away by unpleasant memories. So I had to google coping mechanisms, and one I came across is called 54321. I'm familiar with it, but I don't tend to use it. To ground yourself in the present moment, you're supposed to look around the room for 5 things you can

Yesterday I told you a story about someone being awful to me.  Today I'm going to tell you a story about somebody being wonderful. The one story follows the other. They happened the same day. When I got back to my building after the incident I told you about yesterday, I was feeling pretty down on humanity. As I waited for the elevator, I met a young trans woman who had just moved in. She was so bubbly and bright that her mood instantly inspired me to feel a little more hopeful about life.  She helped me without being asked, because she could see that I was obviously a person who needed help. She did nice things in a totally natural way. That is a true talent. She was able to lend a hand in a way that made me feel elevated rather than belittled. Just totally casual about it, chatting away so as not to draw attention to the fact that she was assisting me.   I wanted to hug her and be her genderqueer mom and tell her she had renewed my faith in humankind, but that might have been w

After days of not being able to leave the house due to migraines AND salmonella poisoning (what a combination...) I finally went out to buy a few groceries. I often use a walker to get around, and that was the case today.  On my way home, there was a snooty rich lady standing in the sidewalk so that I couldn't get by. I asked her if she could move and she didn't even look at me, just took the slightest half-step forward so she was still blocking my path. There was no way I could get by her with my walker. She also had a dog. Her dog was completely blocking my path. I asked her if she could move her dog and she didn't even acknowledge my existence. She did not move her dog.  It's always bothered me, being treated this way--being treated like I'm so inconsequential that I'm not even worth acknowledging--but I think it bothers me in a much deeper way when I'm using a mobility aid. Because I feel like... you've got no excuse, world. You look at me and you kn

So, look... I have a very bad habit of giving myself food poisoning. This almost always involves eggs. The first time I poisoned myself with eggs was after that big east coast blackout that happened in the early 2000s. 2003? I'm too lazy to look it up right now. If you lived through it you probably remember it because power was out for days, which is pretty unusual in major cities. Anyway, I had a carton of eggs in my fridge that was already 6 months expired and then it lived through this blackout. I can't say for sure why I ate those eggs, except that I was very poor and also stupid, but that was my first experience with egg-related food poisoning. A couple years ago I poisoned myself with homemade mayonnaise. This week I poisoned myself by eating raw meringue while making my partner a pie. He told me not to eat raw meringue, but by then it was too late.  The salmonella is a part of me now. It's been with me for days. If you're wondering how you can support me

I've been re-watching the British TV show Rosemary and Thyme again, even though I re-watched every episode a month ago. There are only three seasons, but I like repetition.  I always say the appeal of this show is the fantasy of having a friend and doing gardening and solving murders, but I re-watched the first episode last night (I don't usually watch the first episode--not sure why), and I realized that the biggest appeal of this show, for me, is probably the fantasy of making a new friend later in life.  The idea that I could meet someone new and form an instant bond and we could be besties and run a business together... it actually seems beyond impossible when I say it out loud. I find it so, so hard to make friends. But maybe that's why so many of us love this little show? I don't know. There's a lot to love about it. If you're wondering how you can support me in bringing you songs and anecdotes, the easiest thing you can do is buy my books (most are for

Further proof that I was wrong in thinking music videos were invented in the 80s. This one was made in 1970. It just so happens that I wasn't born yet in 1970, so I can't help wondering where videos like this were broadcast. We didn't have our MTV yet (or our MuchMusic, for my fellow Canadians), so where did people watch music videos like this one? I asked my partner, but he has no memory of music videos existing back in the 70s. So I'm still at a loss. If you're wondering how you can support me in bringing you songs and anecdotes, the easiest thing you can do is buy my books (most are for adults only!) or check them out from your local library.  Supporting my  AudioErotica  endeavour on  Patreon  would also help me hugely. I'm also an  Amazon Influencer,  so hopefully I can make a little pocket change when you buy stuff by clicking through  my affiliate links . I also recommend subscribing to my newsletter. I generally e-mail subscribers with a weekly updat

A couple months ago I had a story in mind to tell you about this song, or a story that was somehow related to this song... but I didn't tell you the story at the time, and now I forget what the story was about. So we'll just listen to the song without the story, I guess. Doesn't it feel good to be watching a music video from the 80s, though? Okay, so maybe music videos weren't invented in the 80s, but I would go so far as to say music videos were perfected in the 80s. 80s music videos were so weird. I love that about them. They give me the feels deep down in my radio heart. In other news, I did once release a book of paranormal erotica called Creatures of the Night ... If you're wondering how you can support me in bringing you songs and anecdotes, the easiest thing you can do is buy my books (most are for adults only!) or check them out from your local library.  Supporting my  AudioErotica  endeavour on  Patreon  would also help me hugely. I'm also an  Amazon

YouTube now seems to be working overtime to prove to me that music videos existed in the 70s.  Okay, I admit it: I was wrong when I said music videos were invented in the 80s. Clearly they existed in the disco era. This Boney M video was made in 1976, from what I gather. I'll give them this: they found a location they liked and they stuck with it. If you're wondering how you can support me in bringing you songs and anecdotes, the easiest thing you can do is buy my books (most are for adults only!) or check them out from your local library.  Supporting my  AudioErotica  endeavour on  Patreon  would also help me hugely. I'm also an  Amazon Influencer,  so hopefully I can make a little pocket change when you buy stuff by clicking through  my affiliate links . I also recommend subscribing to my newsletter. I generally e-mail subscribers with a weekly update, and I would LOVE to have you on the list.  Click here to sign up:  http://eepurl.com/R4b11 See you soon! Giselle

Not too long ago, I was writing about PTSD and how it sucks me out of the present moment and into the past. Well, I also struggle with anxiety, which sucks me out of the present moment and into the future.  But here's the thing about the future: I don't actually know what's going to happen in it. In my vast experience of living with anxiety, I've found that very few of the things I worry my pretty little head about actually come to pass. Bad things do happen--they're just not the bad things I kept worrying would happen. I never worried my partner would get cancer. Neither of his parents had cancer. In fact, no one in his family has had cancer. Plus, my mother already had cancer. Like, why would my husband get cancer when my mother already has it? She's got cancer covered. There's no reason why he should get it too. I am not psychic. Far from it. Just because I am certain something bad is going to happen doesn't mean it will. But do you think I can convin

Listening to Ice Cream yesterday and mentioning the words "better than chocolate" made me think, of course, of the 1999 Canadian lesbian rom-com Better Than Chocolate. I saw that film pretty soon after it was released. It blew my queer young adult mind. Not because the movie was about lesbians--I'd seen movies that had lesbians in them before--but because it was a movie with lesbians in it that wasn't sad and tortured.  The other movies I'd seem with lesbians in them had been FILMS. Cinema. This was a movie. Practically a flick. It was a comedy. To be honest with you, I didn't really like it. I didn't hate it, but I didn't love it. But that made sense because I've never been a rom-com fan. It's just not my genre. I loved that the movie existed, though. I loved that people had brought this movie that I didn't even really like into the world. I have no idea whether Better Than Chocolate made a ripple worldwide. Canadian content often doesn&#

For Easter, my partner gave me a chocolate bunny. But you know what else he gave me that's even better than chocolate? No, not that. Well, yes, that too, but that's not what I'm talking about. He bought me some of the supplements my doctor put me on. They're pretty expensive (to me--I don't know what qualifies as expensive to other people anymore) but once I started buying a better brand instead of store brand, I noticed a dramatic reduction in the frequency and severity of attacks (when my chronic illness flares up, it's called an "attack" in the literature--how's that for frightening?). So I'd been talking to my partner about how the better supplements really seem to be making a difference, but BOY are they ever pricy and, sure enough, he goes out and buys them for me as a gift. How's that for thoughtful? If you're wondering how you can support me in bringing you songs and anecdotes, the easiest thing you can do is buy my book

Last week I was telling my newsletter subscribers about a mix tape my best friend made me in high school. This song was on it. It was Barbra for sure, but when I searched for it on YouTube, none of the versions that came up was an exact match to the one that was on my mix tape. I always wondered why my friend included this track among the Tori Amos and Ani DiFranco songs. I suspected it represented her impression of me: that I was always very interested in getting my own way, and I didn't like to be contradicted, especially when she tried to bring me down to earth. If you're wondering how you can support me in bringing you songs and anecdotes, the easiest thing you can do is buy my books (most are for adults only!) or check them out from your local library.  Supporting my  AudioErotica  endeavour on  Patreon  would also help me hugely. I'm also an  Amazon Influencer,  so hopefully I can make a little pocket change when you buy stuff by clicking through  my affiliate li

This theme was playing on the radio while my partner and I were eating dinner. I hadn't heard the radio host introduce the piece, and I said to my partner, "This is so familiar. What is it?"  Apparently he said something. We'll come back to that.  I kept eating and then asked him, "It's movie music, right?"  He gave me this flat look and then said, "James Bond. It's John Barry music."  That's when I realized he had already told me exactly that information and I hadn't heard what he'd said, and instead of asking him to repeat himself, I'd merely nodded. I did all this without realizing it, in the moment. It didn't click that I hadn't heard him. It didn't click that I nodded instead of acknowleding that I hadn't heard him. None of this was conscious. So I guess I'd better book an appointment at the hearing clinic, because the hearing's even worse than the vision, and the vision is pretty bad. I've

 Not sure why this story just popped into my head, but a guy I once worked with told me about a temp they'd had at a different company he'd worked for. This was an older woman. She'd been hired to come in for a week to do some filing or whatever, and that was the gig. She was not a permanent employee.  But she kept coming back. Like the cat who came back... the very next day. And the day after that. And on and on. She wasn't coming into the office to work, though. This woman would come into this workplace, head straight to the kitchen, and make herself "a cuppa." That's what she called her tea. Then she'd settle in at a desk that didn't belong to anybody, and turn on the computer.  This was back in the early days of the internet, when a lot of people still didn't have web access from home. That was the case with this woman. So she'd go on the internet, and she'd pull up recipes (cake recipes, mainly) and print them off. All day. Every d

Every time I come across a music video made in the 70s it blows my mind. Until I stumbled upon that Bee Gees one I played recently, I truly believed music videos were invented in the 80s. So I'm wrong again. This video for Donna Summer's Bad Girls track is just... I don't even know what to say about it. Community theatre on diet pills? I don't even know. It's wild. I was thinking about this song because I recently put out a book called Bad Girls Sexy Surprises . Are my girls really bad or are they just complicated? Who's to say. Many of my characters are based on me, and many of their experiences (ie. sleeping with married men) are things I certainly did when I was younger.  But " Bad Girls " makes for a tantalizing title, and I'm trying to pay the rent, here. If you're wondering how you can support me in bringing you songs and anecdotes, the easiest thing you can do is buy my books (most are for adults only!) or check them out from you

When we listened to Chic's "Good Times" yesterday, perhaps you started thinking about this track. Or maybe you're listening to Rapper's Delight today and thinking there's something familiar about the undercoating.  I learned the history of Rapper's Delight from a segment on Drunk History. My brain doesn't retain a lot of information these days, but I do recall that Chic sued (or threatened to sue?) The Sugarhill Gang over their use of the bass line from Good Times to underpin Rapper's Delight. Ultimately, they settled on sharing credit (or writing credit? My brain really does not work...) for this song. Before I saw that Drunk History segment, my partner and I were washing dishes and listening to the 70s at 7 on the radio. They played Rapper's Delight and I was like, "The station must have made a mistake. This song can't be from the 70s." But, sure enough, it is. 1979, to be exact. I guess the oldies station knows a thing or

I have never been the kind of person who enjoys exercising.  Earlier in my adulthood, exercise didn't seem so important--in part because I was younger, and in part because I worked a lot of jobs that were very physical. I also walked everywhere, and I walked often. I moved my body. I don't do that so much anymore, in part because physical activity can actually aggravate my chronic illness if I'm not careful. I have to be so, so attuned to what my body is capable of doing at any given moment.  Sometimes my body is capable of disco dancing.  I've mentioned before that there are workout videos on YouTube that are entirely disco-focused, and they might just be changing my life. I find them so stupidly fun that I'll do one after another. And the more active I am on days when I can be active, the fewer flare-ups I seem to have of my chronic illness. That's not a prescription. It might eve be wishful thinking. But disco gets me wishing for a brighter future.  If yo

It's April Fools' Day, but this song is no joke. It will get stuck inside your ear holes and you'll never get it out. You will die humming this tune. They will play it at your funeral. If you join me in my personal hell, we'll spend eternity listening to this jingle on repeat. Do you make a mad dash for the remote when this commercial comes on? I sure do. But I'm not into trickery, so I didn't lure you here by pretending I was going to share the BEST song of all time. This Kars4Kids is the absolute worst. If you're wondering how you can support me in bringing you songs and anecdotes, the easiest thing you can do is buy my books (most are for adults only!) or check them out from your local library.  Supporting my  AudioErotica  endeavour on  Patreon  would also help me hugely. I'm also an  Amazon Influencer,  so hopefully I can make a little pocket change when you buy stuff by clicking through  my affiliate links . I also recommend subscribing to my

 I have been seriously struggling with PTSD lately. Flashbacks are frequent, and they draw me completely out of this world--or, at least, out of this time zone.  Out of this time.  Out of now.  I want to be here , where it's safe and there's love, but instead I'm there and it feels so real. I don't even know I've left the here-and-now until I'm back, trying to shake off things I don't want to think about.  Last week, my partner and I walked to the convenience store to buy milk. On our way there, we heard an alarm sounding. We weren't sure whether it was a car alarm or if it was coming from the business across the street. It was hard to pinpoint.  On our way home, we could hear the alarm again. This time, we realized it was coming from a garbage bag at the end of someone's driveway. It was a smoke detector that wouldn't stop sounding. It was garbage day, so I said to my partner, "I guess that alarm will just keep going until it gets crushed

This ad used to play on the American TV channels we got when I was a kid. My cousin and I sang this jingle constantly, laughing our little heads off, because in my family the word "fart" was basically a swear word. We did not say it. We had to say "putt" instead. So to hear this TV commercial advocating farting for fun was just the most hilarious thing we could think of. Ah, to be six again... If you're wondering how you can support me in bringing you songs and anecdotes, the easiest thing you can do is buy my books (most are for adults only!) or check them out from your local library.  Supporting my  AudioErotica  endeavour on  Patreon  would also help me hugely. I'm also an  Amazon Influencer,  so hopefully I can make a little pocket change when you buy stuff by clicking through  my affiliate links . I also recommend subscribing to my newsletter. I generally e-mail subscribers with a weekly update, and I would LOVE to have you on the list.  Click her

My partner and I were just doing a crossword puzzle where one of the answers was "gadget" and my partner instantly said, "Inspector Gadget! My kids loved that show."  I loved that show too, though I remember almost nothing about it except that the Get Smart guy did the inspector's voice, and he had a niece named Penny. I thought Penny was a cool name, when I was a kid. I never met a Penny until I was in high school and a friend's mother went by Penny--short for Penelope. My friend laughed that once a telemarketer called and obviously wasn't familiar with the name Penelope, because he asked for "Pen-elope." Like you're going to elope with a pen.  If you're wondering how you can support me in bringing you songs and anecdotes, the easiest thing you can do is buy my books (most are for adults only!) or check them out from your local library.  Supporting my  AudioErotica  endeavour on  Patreon  would also help me hugely. I'm also an  Am

When I was a kid, I thought this song was about the stars. Listening to the lyrics now, as an adult, I realize that's not at all what it's about. But when I heard "the night has a thousand eyes" as a child, I pictured the dark sky dappled with thousands of shining stars and they were all watching out for you. Not a bad image. If you're wondering how you can support me in bringing you songs and anecdotes, the easiest thing you can do is buy my books (most are for adults only!) or check them out from your local library.  Supporting my  AudioErotica  endeavour on  Patreon  would also help me hugely. I'm also an  Amazon Influencer,  so hopefully I can make a little pocket change when you buy stuff by clicking through  my affiliate links . I also recommend subscribing to my newsletter. I generally e-mail subscribers with a weekly update, and I would LOVE to have you on the list.  Click here to sign up:  http://eepurl.com/R4b11 See you soon! Giselle

My partner doesn't often make special dinner requests, but yesterday he asked if I could make a quiche. Usually we cook meals together, but quiche is all me, just like omelettes are all him.  I'd just pulled this quiche out of the oven and I was listening to a playlist of hits from the 60s when this song came on. My partner swept me into his arms and danced me around the kitchen, and it was the first time I felt like I was actually taking the cues I was supposed to take from him. I do not know how to dance, and I usually try to lead, but I don't know how to lead, so I usually end up stepping on his toes. But this time I listened to his body and let him take me. It's only a galley kitchen. Not much room for dancing. But if you like getting close up with your partner, I guess any space is big enough.     If you're wondering how you can support me in bringing you songs and anecdotes, the easiest thing you can do is buy my books (most are for adults only!) or check the

I've been doing disco dancing workout videos on YouTube lately and this song plays during one of them. It was the only song in the bunch that I couldn't identify. I would try to listen for lyrics, but I couldn't make any of them out. I asked my partner if he knew the song, but he didn't. I tried to ask the robots that live with us, but they were not helpful. It was a days-long mystery. Finally, I listened to the workout video with headphones and was instantly able to pick out a line, which I plugged into Google. Google immediately knew those words were from this song. The mystery is solved.  I would never have guessed I was listening to Marvin Gaye. If you're wondering how you can support me in bringing you songs and anecdotes, the easiest thing you can do is buy my books (most are for adults only!) or check them out from your local library.  Supporting my  AudioErotica  endeavour on  Patreon  would also help me hugely. I'm also an  Amazon Influencer,  so hop

I've been singing this song around the house all day, and I'm guessing that's because I heard it somewhere and it planted itself in my brain. My best guess is that I heard it in one of the workout videos on YouTube I've been doing to try to get myself back into shape.  When I was self-isolating in a small apartment for three weeks, I became extremely inactive. A big part of that was fatigue. I didn't have the energy to do anything. I spent almost every afternoon in bed. I only got up in the morning to make myself breakfast so I could take my AM batch of pills.  I only got out of bed in the evening to make myself dinner so I could take my PM batch of pills. But I'm trying to get moving now. Part of that means actually leaving the house. Part of that means exercising at home. And exercising at home means listening to lots of 80s music. If you're wondering how you can support me in bringing you songs and anecdotes, the easiest thing you can do is buy my b

I've been flipping through my novel Fortune's Diary (a book from the Lesbian Diaries series that totally flew under the radar) and in one scene Fortune and her crush Maya are in downtown Toronto eating shawarma and listening to a busker. The busker is singing Cornflake Girl, a song Fortune has never heard before. When Maya tells her what the song is called, she thinks the title is hilarious. My best friend in high school put this song on a mix tape she made me. Ah, memories... If you're wondering how you can support me in bringing you songs and anecdotes, the easiest thing you can do is buy my books (most are for adults only!) or check them out from your local library.  Supporting my  AudioErotica  endeavour on  Patreon  would also help me hugely. I'm also an  Amazon Influencer,  so hopefully I can make a little pocket change when you buy stuff by clicking through  my affiliate links . I also recommend subscribing to my newsletter. I generally e-mail subscribers

Often I forget that I once made an album of... ummm... music. I almost feel like there should be a question mark, there: ummm... music? Yes, it's music. Let's have some confidence, shall we? It is definitely music and I definitely made it. I'm just not sure how to classify this music. I think I created most of it more than a decade ago, although I only released the album a couples years back. It hasn't exactly made me a household name. Probably doesn't help that I hardly ever tell anyone about it. The trouble is, I'm very self-effacing and I have difficulty taking pride in anything I create. That's a pretty sucky place to come from when you create things for a living. But here we are. And here's some music I made. I picked this song to play because I wanted to well you about the weird background sound. I don't know what you call it because I no longer have a brain--thank you, menopause. Anyway, let's call it the background sound. To create i

You can blame/thank Heartbeat for this one. I think it's a thank rather than a blame, but I guess that all depends on whether or not you like Jethro Tull.  I actually didn't know what song I was hearing, initially. This song was playing over a chase scene where the Heartbeat coppers were trying to catch a murderous hippie. Luckily, I was watching the show on my PVR, so I could rewind it and play it back and try to make out some song lyrics. I can't tell you how much trouble I had picking out even a few individual words. My hearing is not what it used to be.  But I figured it out, eventually. Lucky us! If you're wondering how you can support me in bringing you songs and anecdotes, the easiest thing you can do is buy my books (most are for adults only!) or check them out from your local library.  Supporting my  AudioErotica  endeavour on  Patreon  would also help me hugely. I'm also an  Amazon Influencer,  so hopefully I can make a little pocket change when you bu

Yesterday I was telling you about stamp collecting. The reason my partner and I were talking about stamps in the first place is that a friend of his used to collect toy cars. This friend recently sold his entire toy car collection and decided he was going to collect stamps instead. My partner and I were talking about collections and collecting, and it occured to me that there's nothing I collect and there's nothing I feel inclined to collect. I enjoy that other people have fun collecting things. I'm not anti-collecting. But for me, having grown up in a hoarder home, the idea of collecting is kind of mashed up with accumulating. I know there's a difference, but I have a compulsion to get rid of things rather than keep them. But, you know, if I HAD TO collect something... I mean, stamps are small. They don't take up much room. Although, having said that, I bet there are stamp collectors with rooms full of stamps. If you're wondering how you can support me

When I was in Grade 3 (that's how we say "Third Grade" in Canada), I joined the stamp club. I bet that sounds pretty nerdy, but either it was super-cool or else all my friends were nerds too, because we all joined the stamp club. It was held after school in a small, dark room, which sounds creepy, but it wasn't.  I can't remember the teacher's name who ran the stamp club, but every week he'd hold a draw for us members, and the winner got a set of stamps he was giving away. One week, I won Disney stamps. I forget which country they were from. I think I might have given them to Sweet, because she was a Disney fanatic, but I hope I didn't give them away.  As I so often mention, I'm getting nostalgic, and part of that nostalgia is wanting things from my childhood. Like those Disney stamps. My paternal grandmother gave me stamps when I was in the stamp club. She'd placed them in two sheets from a large photo album. I have no idea where she got them