There is no joy in hand washing the unmentionables but any household chore can be addressed creatively by popping something interesting on the DVD player. Since I had my cable cut (ayayay), I have been playing Stars' Heart album and Club 8's Strangely Beautiful alternately between marathons and reruns of the likes of Y Tu Mama Tambien, Central du Brasil, Bridget Jones's Diary and Love, Actually (ah, the Brits know what to do with romance and farce). Somehow, I needed a new soundtrack last night, and my eyes managed to land on an Orocan box which contained unpacked stuff from my last stint being roomies with a Canadian boy back in oh-seven.
Oh joy! Lookie --- CDs and books which I have somehow forgotten I own: Death Cab for Cutie's Plans, Tori Amos' The Beekeeper and American Doll Posse, and albums from Toad the Wet Sprocket, Elbow and Trembling Blue Stars. There's the secondhand copy of Tropic of Cancer. Ooh, and a Nina Simone compilation I purchased in Singapore.
Nina Simone. Who can ever forget? What a kick ass woman. Now this is true jazz.
Imagine dissolving the detergent whilst singing with her cover of "Here Comes the Sun" followed by "Seems I'm Never Tired of Loving You"? How about the part where you try to rap around the lyrics of "New World Coming" as you scrub scrub scrub? And keeping yourself from lighting a match to the tune of "To Love Somebody"?
Somehow I remember this meme on Pinterest that goes something like, "Why can't John Hughes write my love story?" Listening to Nina Simone somehow makes me think, "Why can't Nina Simone play in the background as I finally meet my one true love?" Well, as life is not a movie similar to that iconic reunion between Jesse and Celine in Before Sunset whilst Nina Simone's "Just in Time" is spinning in Celine's Parisian CD player, I am just going to have to play her in my Mandaluyong-based player as I tackle not just my unmentionables but the collecting dust on my bookcase as well.
In the meantime ---
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