Tuesday Night with Idina Menzel

It doesn’t feel like Tuesday night. Do you ever get that? When you get to a certain point in the week, and you think “Really? Is it really only Tuesday? Surely it must be Thursday already?”.

I’m back in the hotel – the wonderfully rubbish hotel where the wireless internet craps out all the time (can’t complain though – it’s free). How you can call something free, when it doesn’t work is a mystery to me though – kind of like “here – have some nothing for free”.

I got back to the room tonight and the toilet was flushing continually. I’m guessing it started doing it when the room service flushed it while tidying the room up earlier (the room I left tidy anyway). I wonder how many hundreds of gallons of water poored through it during the day?

There are two men apparently sharing a room adjacent to mine in the hotel. If we were to open the adjoining doors, I imagine I could confirm that they are either as stupid as pig-shit and shouting at each other’s faces, or both hard of hearing. I’m listening to music turned nearly to maximum on headphones to drown out both them, and their hotel room TV, which appears to be turned up too 11. Thank the maker for Spotify.

While thinking about Spotify, do you use it? Do you curate playlists in it, or just listen to a pre-prepared one that suits your mood? I keep meaning to spend some time curating some half-decent playlists, but invariably end up just choosing something ready-made. In-between songs, I can hear the two guys next door. During the last pause one of them shouted “F*cking B*st*rd”. Lovely.

Oh how I wish I had the intercom button from the “Armstrong and Miller” comedy show, which I could calmly lean towards, press the button, and say “Kill them” (search for it on YouTube – along with their RAF Airman scenes, which are quite possibly the funniest thing ever broadcast on television – certainly if you have teenage children).

I have a confession to make – which might be connected to the photo accompanying this blog post. I’ve become a closet Idina Menzel fan. I told a girl-friend recently, and it took her some time to stop laughing before whispering that it was only a matter of time. I’m listening to one of her albums now – it’s remarkably good at drowning out the cretins next-door. I discovered her quite by chance (because I’m incredibly unobservant).

My other half went out one night, and after getting the kids to bed and clearing the decks, I was at a loose end. I discovered a recording of “Chess in Concert” on Amazon, and bought it to watch and listen to while doing something else. And then I found I had been sat on the couch in the living room mesmerised by it for two hours.

My other half wandered in from her night out, looked at me sitting on the couch, and looked at the TV.

“What are you watching?”

“Chess in Concert”

She rolled her eyes. I owned the Chess concept album years ago. I had been googling, so tried to impart my new knowledge gained from Wikipedia.

“See that girl singing – Florence? – You’re never going to guess who she is!”

“It’s Idina Menzel”

“You know!?”

“Of course – she’s Elsa in Frozen”

I rolled my eyes. My other half always knows everything. I should have known. And what she doesn’t know, she doesn’t particularly want to know. As I started to tell her about “Rent”, and “Wicked”, she wandered off to make a cup of tea, pretending to listen.

So anyway. I’ve become a (huge) Idina Menzel fan, and I guess this is me admitting it. Now please excuse me while I go climb under a rock somewhere, and hope you don’t laugh too much, or for too long.

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