A Saint I Ain't...

St Andrew fresco (Kintsvisi, Georgia)

...but according to this quiz, I'm like Saint Andrew, patron saint of a country I ache to visit (Scotland), of my parents' village in Portugal, and ALSO of singers, sore throats, happy marriages, AND spinsters!

(How all those fit in with one another, I've no idea, but I'm a singer-who-wants-to-get-back-to-singing, I've been experiencing sore throats and, as things stand, I'm riding hell for leather down Spinster Road, so it does all rather seem to fit me.)

I luuuuurve taking quizzes, it's so fascinating to learn what these arbitrary responses on my part reveal about me and the inner workings of my psyche, according to some stranger whose credentials, if any, are shrouded in mystery.

:-)

Anyway, it occurs to me that, if I were to be a patron saint of stuff, it'd probably be:

• Ex-smokers and/or folks trying to quit.
• Mothers of teenagers who think they're smarter than their moms (so, like, every teenager ever).
• Lovers of Duran Duran, Depeche Mode, and Blondie.
• Folks who chuckle/snort over a solid pun.
• Peeps who obsess over other peeps to the point that they can't focus on the things they need to be doing with their lives and seem to require repeated boots to their bottoms to aid them in getting their respective (and collective, if applicable) shit together.

Or similar.

How about y'all: of what would YOU be a patron saint???

The Dark Romance of R...

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Rapture ~ Blondie

About the time this song came out, early 1981, my Mom worked in a factory as a seamstress. She'd save her lunch break for picking me up at the end of my Catholic elementary school day (I'd just turned 10 the previous December) and we'd walk the three or four blocks to the factory so she could finish her shift. I'd hang out, either in the crappy "break room" (more of a walk-in closet where the gals who worked there kept their coats, though there was enough room for a couch) or on the window seat near my Mom's work space, and apply myself to my homework (blah). Numerous Portuguese and Italian immigrant women worked there, of which my Mom is the former. One of the latter had a little radio, upon which the hits of the day blared tinnily. Late one afternoon, Rapture came on. Stricken by the jangly opening, I raised my eyes from my textbook and looked out the large, grimy window into the white glare of the overcast sky, transported. To where, I couldn't have said. I just felt myself floating far away from the roaring sewing machines and raucous, multilingual babble and into a night-time world lit up by neon and strobe lights. Though I'd not have been able to articulate it then, it was the first time I understood what it meant to feel sexy. It was, like, whoa.

Russian Radio ~ Red Flag

Apart from the yummy synth groove of this tune, I dig and find comfort in the lyrics which promise that "...love is only a smile away, getting so much closer to me, every day." Yeah, man. Lay it on me. I could use some righteous lovin' over here, bring it.

Right Now ~ The Creatures

If I wasn't clear enough just now, let me reiterate, "...right now, let me take you by the hand; right now, put your lips at my command; right now, fly me off to lovers' land." This snazzy cover by a side-project of Siouxsie and the Banshees members puts a spring in my step and zip in my...well, you know. Let's just say I "...feel it coast to coast." ;-)

The Dark Romance of C...

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Call Me ~ Blondie

This is possibly the sexiest, most unabashed, insistent imperative ever delivered by a woman in rock 'n' roll history. She ain't sayin', "Oh, you know, you might gimme a ring, when you get a sec," she's sayin', "Your ass better frigging call me!" And what straight male (or gay female) in his/her right mind would disobey? Pas moi! (You know, if my gate swung that way. Or if hers did...actually, I dunno; does it?)

 

Can't Get You Out of My Head ~ Kylie Minogue

Ah, the obsessive-compulsive side of love. That overwhelming rush of chemical-cocktail in your system that keeps you from focusing on anything but your love object. Yeah, that's messy. But it's real. Just remember - it'll pass...all too soon. (Not that I'm bitter, or anything. Heavens, no!)
 

Closer* ~ Nine Inch Nails

*(Explicit Lyrics & Video - Extremely Unsafe for Work - and a little bit gross, just sayin')

If Debbie Harry laid it out with foxy ferocity, Trent Reznor did it with his dangerously insistent croon of just how he wanted to...well, you know. (Or you will know, once you've watched the video. Be sure your children/boss/co-workers aren't around when you do.) (I'm totally not kidding.)