Wednesday, July 02, 2008

plausible deniability

My door is the first one off the lobby, next to the mailboxes, and on the way to the elevator. Even if I don't play music very loudly, during the warm summer days the music can be heard wafting through the door or spilling out onto the patio, which also leads to the outdoor parking lot and swimming pool. When I bake, apparently you can smell it all the way out to the street.

Ways in which my neighbors might interpret my repeated playing (as in "repeat all") of '80s power ballads, country music, '90s Lilith Fair awesomeness:

  • I am a music critic for some respectable magazine writing a meta article on emotions, feminism, and music.
  • I am a big important record producer trying to find an old-but-new sound for my latest pop tart ingenue, who really might be the next Sheryl Crow mixed with Bonnie Tyler with a little of Reba McIntyre
  • I am a songwriter drawing inspiration from people far more talented than I am, pretending that I will be the next Sheryl Crow mixed with Bonnie Tyler with a little of Reba McIntyre.
  • I am That Emo Girl Who Listens to Music on Repeat Just to Feel the Emotions While Playing Air Guitar and Lip Syncing.

Like I said, plausible deniability.

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