It’s all about comfort.

So, I am making a meme, answering it, and tagging
other people and kind-of people so they’ll answer it.

What’s your favorite comfort
food?

When I feel alienated, discontent, or
surly, I must have chocolate. Meiji Black is swell. So are leftover pre-nibbled
bits of alleged chocolate my sister carelessly leaves in the refrigerator egg
tray. Curly Tops (the ones in the box, not the plastic pack) make me
happy.

Coming in a close second is Roquefort
cheese. Moldy curdled sheep milk
rocks.

What are your comfort
books?

The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the
Galaxy, a trilogy in five parts, blessed be Douglas Adams’ memory, sorry for the
inconvenience.

Sharon Shinn’s Samaria series.
Angelica, Jovah’s Angel, The Alleluia Files… I can pick up any of these books,
start reading on any page, and be comfortable immediately. The series is a
science fiction-romance crossover, equal parts Georgette Heyer and Sheri Tepper,
chick lit with genetically-engineered
angels.

Neal Stephenson, Snow Crash. I dig YT.
I can settle into Mr. Lee’s Greater Hong Kong with neurons to
spare.

Julian May’s Saga of Pliocene Exile.

What’s your comfort
outfit?

My hobbit mules from Bangkok,
fisherman pants and a tee with at least 5%
spandex.

What’s your comfort
music?


Joni Mitchell, The Hissing of Summer
Lawns.
I’ve been listening to this practically
all my musically-discerning life. It’s the sound of all my cooped-up rainy
days.

Citizen Steely Dan volumes 1 to
4.
The Dan changed rock forever. I find Deacon
Blues particularly comforting, especially when I’m mildly angry. I will drink
Scotch whiskey all night long and die behind the
wheel.

Boo Hewerdine,
Ignorance.
Will you turn around with 16 miles to
go?

The Blessing, Prince of the Deep
Water.
“Heaven saw a knife in a young
girl?s heart burn right through on Highway 5. Said it takes time and big
mistakes for us to realize we need each other like the air we breathe,
ain?t nothing that we can do. And no one else will ever make me quite as
mad as you.”

Freedy Johnston, This
Perfect World.
“I know I’ve got a bad
reputation.” I heard that single on NU and found the CD in Hong Kong.

Iron & Wine, Our Endless
Numbered Days.
This was the freshest I’d heard
in ages. Naturally I played it over and over
again.

Leonard Cohen, I’m Your
Man.
“Take this waltz with its very own breath
of brandy and death, dragging its tail in the sea.”

I am still deciding on The Arcade Fire’s
Funeral.

This comfort package is hereby
sent to Vox Veritas and McVie
(seeing as you’re into lists nowadays). Anyone else who wants to sign for it is
quite welcome.