I don’t tell you what to say

I’ve decided to post my album list on a google sheet thing for anyone to check out my progress, join in or comment on my winning albums. Feel free to source albums I’ve not yet found too, I guess around 75% of 1990 is not on Spotify. That 25% of crap may just be in that pile of cassettes you found in your parents attic.

Note that I am also ignoring “Best of” albums, as I am going for a true released in the 90’s list.

Well, I will post it, need to fix up the formatting and I’m good to go.

Remember, the end goal is to build a top 40 songs from the whole decade. I’m writing a separate list for that, as to retain an element of surprise. Not that many people will care. I WILL CARE.

I may even attempt a few other lists, because I’m that kind of person. Like most, I love a list. I usually like writing a list to cross off things I need to do, but in this instance I’m building lists for other people. You can cross off songs, albums that you listen to. I just have the task of listening to a few thousand albums to get through first.

I met up with a avid stalker reader of my blog recently. She happens to be a good friend of mine, but classes herself as my stalker, probably because we don’t speak or meet up very often. She channels my love through my blog, and I appreciate the reading stats. We discussed how ugly pets are the cutest of all pets, how moose fur (?) paintbrushes exist and tea in coffee shops. It was a lovely evening and Mandy, we must do it more often.

I also met up with half of the boozy brunch club – one is AWOL and the other is with a young child, and as much as she would love to join us, tiny babies unfortunately rely heavily on their mothers. We’ll get everyone together again eventually. You were both heavily missed I can assure you! The rest of us discussed our favourite Disney films (spurred on by talk of my Halloween party), work (mostly about the future, rather than stress of work for once), and teenagers. Again, we must do it more often.

That’s who I am. I meet up with my favourite people once every now and then, miss them terribly and say we should do it more often. I then wonder why some say they don’t know me anymore. I never text or call, and end up at home not doing anything in the evenings for weeks on end.

Not doing anything equates to watching countless episodes of mindless crap on Netflix, or gaming. However, in the Winter I do seem to read books. From someone who would easily read a book a week I’ve sadly transformed into a seasonal binge reader.

Which reminds me…I probably owe a lot of money at the library since I was unable to renew my books last Monday…Ouch. Dear reader, I must state that I’ve already read these books, so they’ve been sitting in my flat for months waiting to be returned. I’m therefore paying for them to simply hangout by my bedside. Double ouch.

Note to self: If someone tells me they don’t know me anymore, and I consider them to be a very very best friend…I need to probably do something about it. Even if they were drunk.

Ho hum. This post may seem a little passive aggressive. I have tried very hard to sway away from passive aggressiveness in my life as that’s pretty much how I lost my last best friend. That’s not going to happen again, it takes too long to recover from that level of bullshit.

Loves xoxo

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