For the past hour, I've been mired in nostalgia. Lately, I've been thinking about the fairy tale books I had when I was a child. These books were mostly from the 70s, so I remember the colour schemes as being primarily orange and brown--the colours of the 70s. The thing is, I can't trust my memory. There's a book that exists in my head, but I can't seem to find any evidence of it in the real world. If it weren't for Covid, I would go to my mother's house and dig through her basement. She never throws things away, so if that book existed, she probably still has it. The song we're listening to is a gorgeous setting of a rhyme featured in one of the fairy tale books I had, as a kid. The Real Mother Goose was originally published in 1916, and the witch on the cover scared me. I guess she was supposed to be Mother Goose, but I saw her as a witch. I also had Dean's Mother Goose Book of Rhymes , as well as Dean's A Book of Fairy Tales , which scare...
Yesterday I told you about my partner's favourite number from the jazz festival. This one was mine. I'd never actually heard it before and had no idea it was a jazz standard (despite the fact that I listened to a jazz radio station for years). I had to do a bit of digging to find out who was the vocalist on this 1926 (yes, that's almost 100 years ago) track (her name is May Alix) and that led me down a slight rabbit hole, where I discovered that "butter and egg man" was 1920s slang for a big spender: a travelling salesman who spent his cash freely at nightclubs. At the jazz festival, various people were dancing to the Dixieland band--most notably, a man who looked (and dressed) exactly like Colonel Sanders. 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 w...
I've had a lot of bad pain days recently, and the depression sets in pretty fast. I start thinking about death, and I try to keep it to myself, because if I think about death aloud, my partner tends to spiral with me. It doesn't take much to get him mentally swirling toward the drain. I guess that's why I'm telling you this stuff instead of telling him. I've been thinking of a family friend who died a couple years ago. He died in that "perfect" way: he died in his sleep. He wasn't sick or anything. One night he just went to bed and he didn't wake up. But you know who did wake up? His wife, who was sleeping beside him. She woke up next to a man who wouldn't wake up. I really can't imagine. Dying in your sleep might be the perfect way of dying for the person who actually dies, but for the person who doesn't? It sounds both sad and terrifying. If you're wondering how you can support me in bringing you songs and anecdotes, the ...
Whether you were a child in the 90s or an adult who just happened to enjoy a quality animated series, you probably loved Pinky and the Brain as much as I did. Cartoons really spoke to me, when I was a kid. My household was plagued by domestic violence, and I swear there were times when cartoons saved me. I had Strawberry Shortcake bedsheets and a Smurfs blanket, and when the world was crashing down outside my door (literally--there was a lot of crashing in my house), I would burrow under the covers and pretend I was in Cartoon World with all my favourite characters. I know that sounds like a bummer of a story, but take it as encouragement, especially if you're a creator like me. Sometimes, when the world is crashing down at our feet, writing erotica (or whatever it is you do--I don't know your life) just doesn't seem all that important. But I can GUARANTEE you the thing you're creating will alleviate someone's pain, somewhere, somehow. Never quit creating. ...
All good questions. Let me explain. My name is Giselle and I'm your new best friend. Well, maybe not "best friend." A best friend usually listens in addition to talking, but that's not me. What I will do is be here every day, starting June 1 2019, to share with you whichever song pops into my head. Why? What's the point? Well, here's the thing: I'm a writer. It's a pretty lonely job. Over the years, I've become increasingly socially isolated and you know what? It sucks. It sucks bad. The truth of the matter is that a lot of us are socially isolated, these days. And not just older people--younger ones, too. There are "friendly visitor" programs for seniors, but those of us under 65 are kind of lost at sea. I speak from experience. Let me be your friendly visitor! If you need a no-pressure visit every day, let me be your visitor. I'll bring a song--whichever song pops into my head, gets stuck in my head, or seems relevant...
If you're a Futurama fan, you probably can't get through this song without tearing up. It's from an episode that's very much about confronting mortality. It's on my mind today because one of my cats is ailing. This comes as no surprise. He is a very old cat. I can see in his eyes that life is fading away. There's an element of loss, especially with pets, that makes us go: why would I ever choose to love something that's sure to leave me? It's really hard to wrap one's head around the fact that anyone or anything could go at any time. Not just through death. We can lose that great job we thought we would have forever. A marriage can dissolve. A friend can move to the other side of the planet. But does that mean this cat, that job, your marriage, your friend wasn't worth having in the first place? The people and pets and interactions in our lives teach us so much and help us to grow. It's hard to keep that in mind when we're facing loss,...
Music from the late 80s/early 90s seems to appeal to many of the visitors here on the blog. I couldn't be more pleased, because this was a formative time period for me, musically. In other ways, too, but I find myself gravitating more and more to this music. Every time a song (like this one) hits me square in the nostalgia centre, I look it up and it's from 1989, 1990, or 1991. Those were the years I spent taping my favourite Much Music videos onto videocassettes plastered with music note stickers, so it makes senses. I don't think the me I was thirty years ago would ever have envisioned life shaping up as it has done. I don't think the me I was three years ago would have. I've got to admit, being so strongly identified as queer and then falling hard for a straight man is a little... a little what? I don't know if there's a word for it. Part of me feels like I'm betraying my people for settling down with someone who's not trans or non-bin...
Until today, I never knew whether this was a real song or if it was a song I made up as a kid. The way it goes in my head is a little different from this, but not much, and I thought it was "Jilly," but apparently it's Julie. I've never seen Carousel or even listened to the soundtrack, so I'm not sure where my exposure to this song would have come from. Just one of life's little mysteries. If you're wondering how you can support me in bringing you songs and visits every day, the easiest thing you can do is tell your friends about the site. Tell anyone you know--particularly people who are isolated and enjoy music. Readers of adult fiction can also buy my books 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 . But you don't HAVE to ...
I needed to give myself a bit of time before telling this story, because what I'm going to tell you about was very upsetting. Made me cry a lot. And I knew that as soon as I told you about it, I would start crying all over again. So I've taken a few days. Here we go. Last week I had a medical appointment. I needed to get to my doctor's office for an injection. That day, my health was awful. I was weak and dizzy and all sorts of bad. Normally I would have used my walker, but the subway station near my doctor's office is not accessible. I mean, it is on paper, but in practice the elevators have been out of commission for over a year. The elevators are actually boarded up. So I know that if I take my walker to that station, I need to carry it up three flights of stairs. Which I have done. More than once. But that day I decided to just use a cane instead. I needed the walker, but I did not have the strength to carry it up three flights of stairs. Turned out the bus on my s...
My partner and I had the radio on today. The station played a commercial (for what, I don't know) that was like "Be sure to call a senior in your life because SENIORS are full of WISDOM!" As a certified, card-carrying senior citizen, my partner burst out laughing. Then the commercial said that the senior you call will certainly REASSURE you that everything's gonna be okay. As a senior with no fewer than three therapists on the go, my partner burst out laughing again. There's a lesson, here, about positive stereotyping, because my partner (a senior) found this radio ad both ridiculous and offensive. All day long, I've been begging him to share his wisdom with me, and he's been patting me on the head, asking, "Does this reassure you?" If you're wondering how you can support me in bringing you songs and visits every day, the easiest thing you can do is tell your friends about the site. Tell anyone you know--particularly people who...