At the Con.

So today I went down to the Conservatorium of Music again and paid a visit to the library. Ahh, I love it. Imagine this: shelves stacked with CDs, paid for by the taxpayer, plus a uni student with a laptop. Join the dots, people. But of course, it's all for academically-related purposes. Erm, yeah. You know, for something to dance naked to while procrastinating listen to while studying. Yeah. See, I told you it was all academically related.

And I think I became a little gayer today. I happened upon a Judy Garland CD and I listened to it in its entirety. And well, I-- erm-- kinda like it. A lot. Deary me. I'm not sure what the new paradigm is with regards to Judy Garland, though. Does the contemporary fag have at least one Judy CD in his collection anymore? Nonetheless, I can see it now: just before my next exam, instead of burying my head in books I'll be in my underwear, bopping around to the strains of The Trolley Song. Ding-ding-ding, indeed.

Aside from some bad Motown albums that I ripped, I also fed my morbid fascination with Requiem masses (the only orchestral music I'll really ever listen to) with Mozart's Requiem in D Minor. It's not as pretty as Fauré's though.

Listening to:
Title: The Trolley Song
Artist: Judy Garland
Album/station: On Radio 1936-1944, Vol. 1: All the Things You Are (1993)
Length: 3.21