This week has been an introspective one for me. I now find myself in the melancholy, soul searching haze that comes as an all inclusive deal with a confident and persistent intuition. At the risk of sounding like an under thought and over used political campaign...CHANGE is on the smog polluted horizon. There is a pungent crisp to the air, a vibration the sun gives off that runs through my skin, seeps through my bones, marinades my soul, and masters my mind. With the touch of a calculated Midas,the gift of golden reflection and the keen perception bestowed upon me by my just awakened senses-alert my being to the core that my jaded hibernation is drawing to a close. Squinting as I stride languidly from the shrouded fortress that has provided me with misguided comfort and a false sense of security for longer than I care to identify. I crouch-ears up, tail twitching-cautious, yet exhilarated by the hunt and nearly frozen in place by the shadowed unknown that lays in wait. Fight or flight instinct at full alert. My mind searching for the doors marked EXIT...my spirit digging it's claws down deep-prepared to be the last one standing.
As creatures of habit-often of bad habit,we tend to resist change. Uncertainty often carries the terror of the dream...the falling one. The one where without notice we are plummeted parachute and safety net free into the vast infinite air of the unknown. Never do we fall feather like with zen-like surrender...floating like an ivory feather dancing harmoniously with a warm spring breeze...waltz 2-3, waltz 2-3 until it fairy kisses the grassy green with its' billowy softness. No. We flail and grasp for any reachable stronghold. Groping blindly, at any vestige of familiarity. Nevertheless,gravity grips us in its' gnarled fist and yanks us toward what we believe to be certain calamity. Eyes showing nothing but white, we bolt upright, cold sweat beading our brow- into our reality. Still terrorized by the fear of the unknown that nearly swallowed us whole.
Still...change we must. The world doesn't care about your cold sweats and horror churned stomach...every moment things change...and if you attempt to stand still against it, you will blink one slow heavy lidded, burden wearied blink...and life will have skillfully stolen your queen and your game will be over.
Eleanor Roosevelt said "Do one thing every day that scares you." Change-frightens us all.Yet,there is no hiding from its' presence. I guess my final assessment is this, so often we cling, embrace, cleave to our current state-not because it is working for us, but because we are engulfed by the horror of the unforeseen. Still when you really give that anemic feeble theory the thought it deserves- We are all blind little cane-less, tail-less mice...all the more lost because we believe we know where we stand. Not to say that there are no certainties. How empty and bleak our existence would be without the steadfast belief, the innate hunger for that which is real and substantial and unchanging because in It is defined by It's perfection. But rather to say that stubborn, foolish resistance to change, or to be changed, or to cause change will inevitably result in regret,wasted time and a life unworthy of so much as an honorary mention.
Trembling in my new found steadfastness...senses heightened...courage puffing it's chest...Not only do I wait, but inwardly I search for the changes I have resisted. Those that I need to wrap myself around and those I need to be a force in (the kind to be reckoned with) ...Of course, being the uncontainable spirit, faintly couraged girl that I am...this won't be easily defined,acquired, accomplished or maintained. But then, what of substance is?
Change...When we are stirred from the safety blanket comfort we have hibernated in for far too long-roused by the aroma of what may, can and will be. As we fall toward the black pooled ground below, rather than being paralyzed by our lack of control-let's take a proactive, strategic view. Have our kicks on so we can hit the ground we will inevitably reach-running, our shields out and our swords drawn in preparation for the fight...and our arms thrown wide open in acceptance for the only certainty in life...
"Resistance is futile"
July 30, 2009
July 20, 2009
Because I Said So...
Even now, I cringe in remembrance..of asking my parents the unauthorized "Why?"
My inquiry being met with the vaguely ungratifying and final response:
"Because I Said So."
That was my signal that the conversation was over, that there would be no further debating or discussing. Finis...
Like a King's Decree...(the ones that were forever altering the measurement of a foot-ever consider the ramifications of that process? hahaha...No?!? Ahem-Me neither.)
" BECAUSE I SAID SO"
It WAS...it just HAD to be enough...even if an explanation or conversation would have received a heartier welcome-perhaps taught reason and mutual respect Even now,I wonder which of us was less justified in their actions,or lack there of. Was the conversation over because there was no reasoning with my child-like and later, my hormone-riddled logic? Or were my Parents so caught up in their authority that they couldn't see fit to provide what would likely have been a validating explanation. As I have previously stated, most reality lies someplace between the perceptions of our memories and the opposing extreme. Regardless, as an adult-I often think about how much smoother my life would be...if the universe took MY "I said so" as the final judgment. The result would be a bit bumpy, certainly splashed in vivid studio quality technicolor, a bit thrillingly and unpredictably risky...but smoother...At least for me.
If only I had the veto power of the definitive and masterful "Because I Said So"...I would use it sparingly...Mostly to better the world (solving conflicts, barbarism,dictatorships,illness,starvation,poverty,ending pain and suffering, curing disease...Items of consequence.Point made) but also to better my personal existence...just being honest. I would be a little selfish-but just a minuscule, nearly imperceptible pinch.
Starting with the obvious. After one clear, definitive line of explanation...(and an insinuated-Because I Said So)...ALL arguments would cease. Simple enough. Just imagine all the valuable time and energy that could be conserved that way...Enough time to sort and trash months worth of junk mail and suffer through two Springs worth of cleaning...OR to kick back and drink in the peace with the current issue of ELLE in one hand, sweet victory-tini in the other...I am most apt to select option B.(I am simply OVERFLOWING with surprise and mystery).
Also shush-ness on demand...*Imagining a little signal-like a sideways glance and dainty imaginary key toss-tink-as it falls into the depths of disappearance*
More problems solved by a Because I Said So...
The acceptance and embracing of fashionable lateness-up to thirty seven minutes...alright, let's call it forty two.
The increase of green lights en route to the location of my choice...Should go without saying, but this would ALSO necessitate the temporary absence of the men and women in blue- the ones with flashy-lights and sirens- not the rain or shine variety,uniformed in polyester shorts and white door-less Jeeps.Um...have you seen the white bee-keeper inspired hats? That is just cruel.
Coffee delivered to my door...scalding-steamy latte/or icy dew-kissed chilled frappuccino. Frothy,smooth- hot-or cold and made to order...via text.
Sinfully savory items like chips and salsa,Coca-Cola, pinot noir, fillet mignon, crispy,salty french fries,bubbly decadent chocolate souffles and pasta would be calorie and fat free...Why else? Um...Because I said so.
Money would not grow on trees, but rather-bushes...in the shape of roses and would smell as sweet (thanks Will.)Again, just in the effort of simplification. Economy catastrophe, rectified...lemon squeezy...
It would be against the law to charge more than fifty dollars for a pair of pouty pumps,sassy stilettos, strappy sandals, or brilliantly beautiful boots...to give a reason here, would be insulting your intelligence.
Bi-monthly Girls Night Out would be mandated. Bi-monthly shopping excursions, book store browses/mani-pedis definitely included in the mix -without necessity of official mention...BECAUSE...I sai-... don't really need to finish it, do I?
Music, art, theatre appreciation would be required. There would be a national media campaign...Culture-Get Some!...Basic sport knowledge is a given.
Chores like laundry,bathrooms,dishes,cooking,organization...anything considered a hardship for the Domestically Challenged...would only need to be done once...And then? Self-maintained...like...I can't think of anything...why must life be so high maintenance? Then I could focus my,attentions on more deserving endeavors like shiny, cushy, plush, savory and smelly,(in a good way..)
Dress code enforced. Regardless of where you live-sandals/flip-flops and jeans/shorts do not constitute Evening Attire. Sorry...
Closet space and vanities would expand as if maintained by adept carpenter man-pixies to fit my ever-changing needs...Also ANY mention of how many eyes I have to shadow, lips I have to gloss, bodies I have to moisturize/perfum and wardrobe, tootsies to shoe...Would be punishable by one week of chick flicks/Bravo/Style channel without complaint...Any sign of chagrin would result in an additional week of SHE-VO.
Boys worth keeping would sparkle with Cullen-like flair when bathed in the shiny canary iridescence of the noon day sun...("hideous" and shiny monster-like)and their sorry, ill-equipped opposition would show cloudy brown like the doody that fills them to their ears and sooner or later will spill out through their words and actions.
Every eating establishment would be required to have at least three decent red wines in house...reasonably priced. Oh and the home pour would be the national norm.
Naps and sleeping in would be worked seamlessly into the daily routine.
Complaining and whining will be tolerated under no condition and met with muted deafness and the arm...because talking to the hand is insufficient in this case...
Thinking outside the building-like the one that Elvis has left(not just out of the box)would be a decadent actuality.
Each of us would take for granted that we need to clean up after ourselves, both literally and metaphorically.
Only educated voters would be allowed to vote for the winners of political elections and reality shows...certified via online test? Can't be bothered with logistics now.
Kindness would be law...sarcasm taught,generosity and thoughtfulness innate, creativity,silliness/laughter and empathy not optional.
Dancing it out...would become the new national pastime.
Harry Connick Junior would tour monthly and my seat would be front, center and free of charge.
SERIOUS Fashion Violators would go to Style School (like traffic school) as their community service and would be aided by an expert glam squad...or Stacy and Clinton...whomever is on call that day.
Indulgence within reason would be encouraged.
Each individual would be committed to identify and share their gifts with those around them. And those who took more than their fare share of talent and ability would be forced to ration out the extra to the Gifted Impaired. Fair is fair...
As long as work was completed, vacation time and location potential would be infinite.
Everyone would have to read an average of a book a month and would need to select something not recommended by Oprah, Regis and Kelly,or the Ladies of the VIEW (anyone still watching that? Because...who's view,exactly? Also an assault to my sensibilities.)
Birthdays would be celebrated like they are in Katroo (via Seuss) with the addition of a Nordstrom Cosmetic/Fragrance counter and open bar...for partaking of and dancing on...of course...oh and live music by the band of my choosing.
Hair days would OBVIOUSLY be fantastic...so there would no longer be any need for the Good/Bad adjectives before "hair"...they would just be Hair Days.
Grey's would be on year round with only nine reruns allowed-to be aired on nights when I have other plans. Also, October Road would be brought back in the place of one of the 17 Crime Investigation Shows.
Sunny would not only be the constant weather forecast, but the only acceptable disposition.
If people lives come crashing down around them...cameras would not be permitted to catch the action for millions to view and judge in the name of sad and sadistic rubber necking...sorry, "entertainment"...?!?!
"Vegetarian Vampires" would actually exist-and live on my street...
List of Because I Said So's can be altered by me at any time without advance warning or outside permissions.
That was frivolously fun for me...hopefully amazingly amusing for you.
What would be on your list...Think about it.
Because I Said So...
Note to CJ:
This was merely the bouncy brain baby of your imagination-no one is required to take your whims(shiny as they may be) as law...
FINE!
So here goes-back to the dull monotony of reality and responsibility...and the "Because I Said So's" of the real world. Made and enforced (unfortunately) without my consent or approval...*Sigh*
My inquiry being met with the vaguely ungratifying and final response:
"Because I Said So."
That was my signal that the conversation was over, that there would be no further debating or discussing. Finis...
Like a King's Decree...(the ones that were forever altering the measurement of a foot-ever consider the ramifications of that process? hahaha...No?!? Ahem-Me neither.)
" BECAUSE I SAID SO"
It WAS...it just HAD to be enough...even if an explanation or conversation would have received a heartier welcome-perhaps taught reason and mutual respect Even now,I wonder which of us was less justified in their actions,or lack there of. Was the conversation over because there was no reasoning with my child-like and later, my hormone-riddled logic? Or were my Parents so caught up in their authority that they couldn't see fit to provide what would likely have been a validating explanation. As I have previously stated, most reality lies someplace between the perceptions of our memories and the opposing extreme. Regardless, as an adult-I often think about how much smoother my life would be...if the universe took MY "I said so" as the final judgment. The result would be a bit bumpy, certainly splashed in vivid studio quality technicolor, a bit thrillingly and unpredictably risky...but smoother...At least for me.
If only I had the veto power of the definitive and masterful "Because I Said So"...I would use it sparingly...Mostly to better the world (solving conflicts, barbarism,dictatorships,illness,starvation,poverty,ending pain and suffering, curing disease...Items of consequence.Point made) but also to better my personal existence...just being honest. I would be a little selfish-but just a minuscule, nearly imperceptible pinch.
Starting with the obvious. After one clear, definitive line of explanation...(and an insinuated-Because I Said So)...ALL arguments would cease. Simple enough. Just imagine all the valuable time and energy that could be conserved that way...Enough time to sort and trash months worth of junk mail and suffer through two Springs worth of cleaning...OR to kick back and drink in the peace with the current issue of ELLE in one hand, sweet victory-tini in the other...I am most apt to select option B.(I am simply OVERFLOWING with surprise and mystery).
Also shush-ness on demand...*Imagining a little signal-like a sideways glance and dainty imaginary key toss-tink-as it falls into the depths of disappearance*
More problems solved by a Because I Said So...
The acceptance and embracing of fashionable lateness-up to thirty seven minutes...alright, let's call it forty two.
The increase of green lights en route to the location of my choice...Should go without saying, but this would ALSO necessitate the temporary absence of the men and women in blue- the ones with flashy-lights and sirens- not the rain or shine variety,uniformed in polyester shorts and white door-less Jeeps.Um...have you seen the white bee-keeper inspired hats? That is just cruel.
Coffee delivered to my door...scalding-steamy latte/or icy dew-kissed chilled frappuccino. Frothy,smooth- hot-or cold and made to order...via text.
Sinfully savory items like chips and salsa,Coca-Cola, pinot noir, fillet mignon, crispy,salty french fries,bubbly decadent chocolate souffles and pasta would be calorie and fat free...Why else? Um...Because I said so.
Money would not grow on trees, but rather-bushes...in the shape of roses and would smell as sweet (thanks Will.)Again, just in the effort of simplification. Economy catastrophe, rectified...lemon squeezy...
It would be against the law to charge more than fifty dollars for a pair of pouty pumps,sassy stilettos, strappy sandals, or brilliantly beautiful boots...to give a reason here, would be insulting your intelligence.
Bi-monthly Girls Night Out would be mandated. Bi-monthly shopping excursions, book store browses/mani-pedis definitely included in the mix -without necessity of official mention...BECAUSE...I sai-... don't really need to finish it, do I?
Music, art, theatre appreciation would be required. There would be a national media campaign...Culture-Get Some!...Basic sport knowledge is a given.
Chores like laundry,bathrooms,dishes,cooking,organization...anything considered a hardship for the Domestically Challenged...would only need to be done once...And then? Self-maintained...like...I can't think of anything...why must life be so high maintenance? Then I could focus my,attentions on more deserving endeavors like shiny, cushy, plush, savory and smelly,(in a good way..)
Dress code enforced. Regardless of where you live-sandals/flip-flops and jeans/shorts do not constitute Evening Attire. Sorry...
Closet space and vanities would expand as if maintained by adept carpenter man-pixies to fit my ever-changing needs...Also ANY mention of how many eyes I have to shadow, lips I have to gloss, bodies I have to moisturize/perfum and wardrobe, tootsies to shoe...Would be punishable by one week of chick flicks/Bravo/Style channel without complaint...Any sign of chagrin would result in an additional week of SHE-VO.
Boys worth keeping would sparkle with Cullen-like flair when bathed in the shiny canary iridescence of the noon day sun...("hideous" and shiny monster-like)and their sorry, ill-equipped opposition would show cloudy brown like the doody that fills them to their ears and sooner or later will spill out through their words and actions.
Every eating establishment would be required to have at least three decent red wines in house...reasonably priced. Oh and the home pour would be the national norm.
Naps and sleeping in would be worked seamlessly into the daily routine.
Complaining and whining will be tolerated under no condition and met with muted deafness and the arm...because talking to the hand is insufficient in this case...
Thinking outside the building-like the one that Elvis has left(not just out of the box)would be a decadent actuality.
Each of us would take for granted that we need to clean up after ourselves, both literally and metaphorically.
Only educated voters would be allowed to vote for the winners of political elections and reality shows...certified via online test? Can't be bothered with logistics now.
Kindness would be law...sarcasm taught,generosity and thoughtfulness innate, creativity,silliness/laughter and empathy not optional.
Dancing it out...would become the new national pastime.
Harry Connick Junior would tour monthly and my seat would be front, center and free of charge.
SERIOUS Fashion Violators would go to Style School (like traffic school) as their community service and would be aided by an expert glam squad...or Stacy and Clinton...whomever is on call that day.
Indulgence within reason would be encouraged.
Each individual would be committed to identify and share their gifts with those around them. And those who took more than their fare share of talent and ability would be forced to ration out the extra to the Gifted Impaired. Fair is fair...
As long as work was completed, vacation time and location potential would be infinite.
Everyone would have to read an average of a book a month and would need to select something not recommended by Oprah, Regis and Kelly,or the Ladies of the VIEW (anyone still watching that? Because...who's view,exactly? Also an assault to my sensibilities.)
Birthdays would be celebrated like they are in Katroo (via Seuss) with the addition of a Nordstrom Cosmetic/Fragrance counter and open bar...for partaking of and dancing on...of course...oh and live music by the band of my choosing.
Hair days would OBVIOUSLY be fantastic...so there would no longer be any need for the Good/Bad adjectives before "hair"...they would just be Hair Days.
Grey's would be on year round with only nine reruns allowed-to be aired on nights when I have other plans. Also, October Road would be brought back in the place of one of the 17 Crime Investigation Shows.
Sunny would not only be the constant weather forecast, but the only acceptable disposition.
If people lives come crashing down around them...cameras would not be permitted to catch the action for millions to view and judge in the name of sad and sadistic rubber necking...sorry, "entertainment"...?!?!
"Vegetarian Vampires" would actually exist-and live on my street...
List of Because I Said So's can be altered by me at any time without advance warning or outside permissions.
That was frivolously fun for me...hopefully amazingly amusing for you.
What would be on your list...Think about it.
Because I Said So...
Note to CJ:
This was merely the bouncy brain baby of your imagination-no one is required to take your whims(shiny as they may be) as law...
FINE!
So here goes-back to the dull monotony of reality and responsibility...and the "Because I Said So's" of the real world. Made and enforced (unfortunately) without my consent or approval...*Sigh*
July 9, 2009
Cool School...Frustration Lends Itself to Ridiculousness
We all like to delude ourselves into thinking that we are ultra cool. I am not sure that the word cool is still...well, cool...but whateva...We tell ourselves that at the very least we have moments of such profound coolness that they redeem our less-than-Stefani* moments. That is what we tell ourselves, but mostly we lie...
*Gwen Stefani is the female poster child for Cool. Mostly because she is a rocker chick, she always wears a flawless ruby pout and can femme it up in tube socks...As if that is not enough, she is a designer of not one-but two fabu clothing lines: LAMB and Harajuku Lovers. The fact that she is married to a fellow rock star really doesn't even make her cool-tribute list-like royalty marrying royalty-it is as it SHOULD be. Gwen is indubitably original, she is definitely shiny. Also she smells like bubble gum,or cotton candy-I am not sure which.(Alright,admittedly-I have never had the opportunity to smell her,and well...THAT would make for an odd introduction...but Gwen smelling like candy is simply a given)...
Other pillars of coolness include: Vince Vaughn,obviously Bogart,Harry,Elvis, Brando, Grant, Jack Johnson, Fitzgerald,JT,Hemingway,Sheryl Crow,SJP(Sarah Jessica Parker),Johnny Cash,Lauren Bacall, Coco Chanel,Elway,Vin Diesel,Lincoln,Katherine Hepburn,John Wayne,Pacino,Neruda,Bruce Willis,Plath, Scorcese (have to be cool to pull off hairy caterpillars for eyebrows), Nicholson,R.Pat(in his Edward-ness),Sakic,Bond (James-not Barry),Depp, Dillinger, Kat Von D,...- my list changes regularly, sure that comes as a shock.*Handing you a paper bag and a popsickle stick so you don't swallow your tongue.* You'll recover,I believe in you...because you are THAT cool. Right?
Which brings me to my point. There are always pesky naysayers out to chink our coolness armor...Frustration being one of the craftiest culprits...because well, there is NOTHING less cool than losing your cool...haha I am going to need a new word. Redundancy is uncool...I mean...unsavory..ish.
So here is the unsightly truth. Irritation leads to frustration, frustration runs head on into anger and anger is NOT at all pretty, it is definitely not um...chill(?).Hopefully you seldom get angry and when you do,you keep your ultra smooth composure. Ideally your blood only boils over noble causes and grave injustice as it should. For the rest of us-the spitefully flawed.Those of us belonging to the achingly human variety-who sometimes get angry over pointless, senseless things that are really not the reason we are angry at all...but we don't have time to delve into Freshman Psych right now, so moving on...But for those of us who breathe, live and feel...
When collective-ness and serenity check out -(and I hope for your sake that you only part with your unruffled exterior in the privacy of your own home,in a sound proof windowless room-where there are no witnesses)...and miffed-ness ensues. At that moment when we are fully aware of our ridiculousness but all reason and sound judgment have made a Starbucks run ...Like an out of body experience where your Gwen/Vince Self watches (nonfat, sugar-free peppermint mocha in hand)in stifled horror as your Emotional and Ill Composed Self shamelessly and undemurely unravels.
Personally, my Little Red Monster (or Courtney Love) staggers out dirty blond-HOLE-style in search of blood...crack...whatever Courtney hungers for. Havoc? It is at this precise moment,that my inner Gwen leaps from the shadows. Deftly, she takes Love down exhibiting her great skill. Calmly,Gwen drags her back inside by the roots of her platinum, over-processed hair-while Courtney kicks and bites...(nothing to see here.)But not before Courtney makes herself heard in a lightening fast tantrum type outburst.Torn couture and all...
Blink-Hopefully you will miss it.
Usually little stacks of mishaps and irritations bring Red (Cort) out to play/battle depending on your demeanor..The refuse burning stench of things I chose to overlook but secretly and unintentionally held onto*...pile up and eventually pour over...
*Boys-fairly sure your kind is generally not guilty of this brand of behavior...but if you haven't yet worked out the figures...Womankind is infamous for it. We inwardly hang on to the little things we outwardly let slide. Which is why when you give us a grunt to a question or a request that we make of you, or leave your glass in the sink...we occasionally unleash a laundry list of every minuscule thing that you may have done to perturb us over the course of our other wise Reagan-esque lives together...We know it's not COMPLETELY fair per-se...it's a wiring thing. Just give Glam Gwen a sec to bind and gag Crazy Courtney. Then tread softly and keep a low but tempered /attentive profile for a day or so-(think Noah,Edward or Lloyd)Your welcome...got that down?*Knuckles* Got your back. For now...I may turn-so always best to sleep with one eye open. Heehee*
Okay so I am going to come out of my Secret Ridiculous Chamber and let you take a quick peek at Courtney (looking like about seventy three bucks)...So...over the course of two days post holiday (which just seems to make everything tougher to take)...
1. Boy5 locked my Baby Girl in his room..."just because". Let's just say that the extent of my tool knowledge is lefty lucy, right tighty...Luckily she was calm and I was channeling my inner Stefani-because it took maybe thirty minutes to get her out. After trying cards, knives, jimmying the lock with a meat thermometer (of course trying futilely to walk her through the unlocking process)...I took the doorknob off with my itty-bitty set of screw drivers. Felt just like MacGyvr... only with better hair-and no flannel.That was a beautiful thing because the next recourse was to kick the door down Stalone-style...in strappy sandals.
2.I picked up the same toys from the same spot (front and center of the house for the twenty-second time in the same day. The Monkeys only think it is funny because they don't know that next time-Miss Love is busting out a Hefty for the job. Problem solved.
3.The cleaning and sanitizing of mystery puddles (spare you the gaggy details)
4. Having to file a restraining order with the Bully Police to keep my kids from bringing one another to a premature close...think Eminem and Sasha Baron Cohen-minus profanity
5. The swamp cooler went out on one of the first 95+ degree days of summer we have had...the VERY one when my daughter was held captive in Spidey's hideout...
I will stop there...Not crazy about complaining,(fully aware that the human race has ACTUAL problems) but suffice it to say that Courtney was clawing her way out-minus a shoe of course.
So at the exact moment that I escape downstairs and close the door to the laundry room to give Miss Love a brief moment of riotous misbehavior with her name written all over it in smeary hot-pink lipstick...I yank clothes out of the washing machine (not as therapeutic as one would hope), hurl them at the open door of the dryer and repeat...then I went to stand and banged my head hard and fast on the wood shelf placed maliciously over the washing machine...*Vision blurred* Final score:Gwen 10-Courtney 1...hahahaha...See? Anger invites and encourages ridiculousness and sometimes results in a big, fat,throbbing headache.
According to the Tao of Gwen/Vince...(insert name of chosen Cool Guy/Girl here)...
Coolness is a virtue...Perspective, fresh air,counting to 10 or 10,000 whatever it takes, cardio, stomping/dancing/running/jumping/kicking it out...
SMILE (ruby red pout in place) in the face of Life's day to day mocking of your existence...
It all helps...and anytime your Inner Stefani is able to keep your Inner Love locked quietly up in solitary rehab(Fellas sub inner Vaughn keep inner Bale/Crowe from bail, community service, fine and assault charges)...you have won one in the name of COOLOSITY...
Allow your cool head and even cooler hair-to prevail.
"Blessed are those who laugh at themselves, they will never cease to be amused." Author Unknown
*Gwen Stefani is the female poster child for Cool. Mostly because she is a rocker chick, she always wears a flawless ruby pout and can femme it up in tube socks...As if that is not enough, she is a designer of not one-but two fabu clothing lines: LAMB and Harajuku Lovers. The fact that she is married to a fellow rock star really doesn't even make her cool-tribute list-like royalty marrying royalty-it is as it SHOULD be. Gwen is indubitably original, she is definitely shiny. Also she smells like bubble gum,or cotton candy-I am not sure which.(Alright,admittedly-I have never had the opportunity to smell her,and well...THAT would make for an odd introduction...but Gwen smelling like candy is simply a given)...
Other pillars of coolness include: Vince Vaughn,obviously Bogart,Harry,Elvis, Brando, Grant, Jack Johnson, Fitzgerald,JT,Hemingway,Sheryl Crow,SJP(Sarah Jessica Parker),Johnny Cash,Lauren Bacall, Coco Chanel,Elway,Vin Diesel,Lincoln,Katherine Hepburn,John Wayne,Pacino,Neruda,Bruce Willis,Plath, Scorcese (have to be cool to pull off hairy caterpillars for eyebrows), Nicholson,R.Pat(in his Edward-ness),Sakic,Bond (James-not Barry),Depp, Dillinger, Kat Von D,...- my list changes regularly, sure that comes as a shock.*Handing you a paper bag and a popsickle stick so you don't swallow your tongue.* You'll recover,I believe in you...because you are THAT cool. Right?
Which brings me to my point. There are always pesky naysayers out to chink our coolness armor...Frustration being one of the craftiest culprits...because well, there is NOTHING less cool than losing your cool...haha I am going to need a new word. Redundancy is uncool...I mean...unsavory..ish.
So here is the unsightly truth. Irritation leads to frustration, frustration runs head on into anger and anger is NOT at all pretty, it is definitely not um...chill(?).Hopefully you seldom get angry and when you do,you keep your ultra smooth composure. Ideally your blood only boils over noble causes and grave injustice as it should. For the rest of us-the spitefully flawed.Those of us belonging to the achingly human variety-who sometimes get angry over pointless, senseless things that are really not the reason we are angry at all...but we don't have time to delve into Freshman Psych right now, so moving on...But for those of us who breathe, live and feel...
When collective-ness and serenity check out -(and I hope for your sake that you only part with your unruffled exterior in the privacy of your own home,in a sound proof windowless room-where there are no witnesses)...and miffed-ness ensues. At that moment when we are fully aware of our ridiculousness but all reason and sound judgment have made a Starbucks run ...Like an out of body experience where your Gwen/Vince Self watches (nonfat, sugar-free peppermint mocha in hand)in stifled horror as your Emotional and Ill Composed Self shamelessly and undemurely unravels.
Personally, my Little Red Monster (or Courtney Love) staggers out dirty blond-HOLE-style in search of blood...crack...whatever Courtney hungers for. Havoc? It is at this precise moment,that my inner Gwen leaps from the shadows. Deftly, she takes Love down exhibiting her great skill. Calmly,Gwen drags her back inside by the roots of her platinum, over-processed hair-while Courtney kicks and bites...(nothing to see here.)But not before Courtney makes herself heard in a lightening fast tantrum type outburst.Torn couture and all...
Blink-Hopefully you will miss it.
Usually little stacks of mishaps and irritations bring Red (Cort) out to play/battle depending on your demeanor..The refuse burning stench of things I chose to overlook but secretly and unintentionally held onto*...pile up and eventually pour over...
*Boys-fairly sure your kind is generally not guilty of this brand of behavior...but if you haven't yet worked out the figures...Womankind is infamous for it. We inwardly hang on to the little things we outwardly let slide. Which is why when you give us a grunt to a question or a request that we make of you, or leave your glass in the sink...we occasionally unleash a laundry list of every minuscule thing that you may have done to perturb us over the course of our other wise Reagan-esque lives together...We know it's not COMPLETELY fair per-se...it's a wiring thing. Just give Glam Gwen a sec to bind and gag Crazy Courtney. Then tread softly and keep a low but tempered /attentive profile for a day or so-(think Noah,Edward or Lloyd)Your welcome...got that down?*Knuckles* Got your back. For now...I may turn-so always best to sleep with one eye open. Heehee*
Okay so I am going to come out of my Secret Ridiculous Chamber and let you take a quick peek at Courtney (looking like about seventy three bucks)...So...over the course of two days post holiday (which just seems to make everything tougher to take)...
1. Boy5 locked my Baby Girl in his room..."just because". Let's just say that the extent of my tool knowledge is lefty lucy, right tighty...Luckily she was calm and I was channeling my inner Stefani-because it took maybe thirty minutes to get her out. After trying cards, knives, jimmying the lock with a meat thermometer (of course trying futilely to walk her through the unlocking process)...I took the doorknob off with my itty-bitty set of screw drivers. Felt just like MacGyvr... only with better hair-and no flannel.That was a beautiful thing because the next recourse was to kick the door down Stalone-style...in strappy sandals.
2.I picked up the same toys from the same spot (front and center of the house for the twenty-second time in the same day. The Monkeys only think it is funny because they don't know that next time-Miss Love is busting out a Hefty for the job. Problem solved.
3.The cleaning and sanitizing of mystery puddles (spare you the gaggy details)
4. Having to file a restraining order with the Bully Police to keep my kids from bringing one another to a premature close...think Eminem and Sasha Baron Cohen-minus profanity
5. The swamp cooler went out on one of the first 95+ degree days of summer we have had...the VERY one when my daughter was held captive in Spidey's hideout...
I will stop there...Not crazy about complaining,(fully aware that the human race has ACTUAL problems) but suffice it to say that Courtney was clawing her way out-minus a shoe of course.
So at the exact moment that I escape downstairs and close the door to the laundry room to give Miss Love a brief moment of riotous misbehavior with her name written all over it in smeary hot-pink lipstick...I yank clothes out of the washing machine (not as therapeutic as one would hope), hurl them at the open door of the dryer and repeat...then I went to stand and banged my head hard and fast on the wood shelf placed maliciously over the washing machine...*Vision blurred* Final score:Gwen 10-Courtney 1...hahahaha...See? Anger invites and encourages ridiculousness and sometimes results in a big, fat,throbbing headache.
According to the Tao of Gwen/Vince...(insert name of chosen Cool Guy/Girl here)...
Coolness is a virtue...Perspective, fresh air,counting to 10 or 10,000 whatever it takes, cardio, stomping/dancing/running/jumping/kicking it out...
SMILE (ruby red pout in place) in the face of Life's day to day mocking of your existence...
It all helps...and anytime your Inner Stefani is able to keep your Inner Love locked quietly up in solitary rehab(Fellas sub inner Vaughn keep inner Bale/Crowe from bail, community service, fine and assault charges)...you have won one in the name of COOLOSITY...
Allow your cool head and even cooler hair-to prevail.
"Blessed are those who laugh at themselves, they will never cease to be amused." Author Unknown
June 23, 2009
Ten Indulgences... aka, Pretty,Guilty, Little Pleasures
The word "indulgences" reminds me of History class and Martin Luther...but lets not so much explore the purchasing of souls from purgatory via the Catholic church BECAUSE well, that would be an odd, boring, uninformed topic of convo. Also, I am not Catholic...Rather let's explore the guilty pleasures we allow ourselves that add sweetness (dulce, si?) or shine to our daily existence. I imagine this is probably what would typically come to a person's mind when "indulgence" is mentioned...but I wouldn't know much about that. CLEARLY. Perhaps you indulge in certain foods or beverages,activities,behaviors,movies...the company of shady or adventurous friends possibly?...Could really be any myriad of things.Indulgence could also be depicted as SSB (Secret Single Behavior- via Sex and the City= rituals you engage in when flying solo). So in the spirit of indulgence...here is my top ten. I apologize as some of these are redundant. Admittedly I am all about the small luxuries...not the picture of discipline and deprivation.Yadda, yadda- well covered territory...Could be another reason for my lack of Catholicism.
1. Lip Gloss...let me just add here-eye shadow and mascara. Lip gloss is the only one that I refuse to face my public without(that's a joke-laugh)...but what makes it an indulgence is the fact that it is a small item that brings me infinite bliss...I kid you not...I am not overstating (for once)What else smells decadent, often tastes like frosting, plumps, tingles and comes in endless shades from radiant ruby to pouty plum? Twenty dollars or less is a small price to pay for uninhibited lip bliss. Eye shadow satisfies my undiagnosed bipolar make up moods and mascara in blackest black is a glam necessity. Yet every time I think I am in love with my mascara-a new brush,brand or formula comes along. Tiresome, really. Sorry,but I have to give a quick shout out to lotions and potions... as they fit here as well..."Can't Get Enough of You Baby" (Now I am quoting Smash Mouth lyrics..WHAT happened to them? Hangin' in a bar somewhere with Sugar Ray and Spin Doctors-eatin' fish tacos, drinkin Mexican beer? I like to think so...oh-add Robert VanWinkle to the equation).
2. Reality Television- Everyone claims to hate it, but I (not so)secretly think you're all in the RTV closet...IF I WERE the only one watching- it wouldn't be all that's on the tube...From Idol, to DWTS, Project Runway to ANTM...I am mildly addicted. And I find the lack of mental commitment intoxicating. Keep Fox and CNN for yourself - my TV brings me shallow uninformed joy. I can catch the news in two minutes on the Google homepage and not feel like poking myself in the eye with the remote. To clarify: I am not celebrating ignorance. I just think that it is possible to stay informed without delving in the depressing and sinister ...
3. Coca Cola and if I REALLY want to indulge? Cherry Coke with real cherries...there are strict rules involved. Maybe rules is wrong. Standards? Will spare you the details. This is a controlled habit because I gave up diet years ago. Too many chemicals. So I reward myself periodically for things like Wednesday or making out of the house on time(or within seventeen minutes of on time). *I have to tag on red wine and martinis-extra dirty,extra olives here...namely because I am not a lush and don't want my occasional liquor indulgence to have it's own entry.* Definitely guilty pleasures as well-taken in moderation. Not to be savored together. Strongly, truly ill-advised. Never tried it-just CAN'T be a good thing...
4. Dancing it Out- I say this all the time...just makes me feel better about almost anything. If you have questions on the Cathartic Funk movement sweeping the nation- you can peep at my Dancing it Out(courtesy of Grey's) blog.
5. Two hour baths. These are much harder to come by...but when I have uninterrupted ME time...this is what calls my name the loudest. Favorite music, alternating bubble gum, classic or historical fiction/biography novel, fig scented candle and scenty bubbles...quite possibly my favorite guilty pleasure...One or two steamy hot water refills necessary. Plus I can indulge in other listed items simultaneously...multitasking at it's prune toed best (such an odd phenomenon-really).
6. Music,books and stationary. I worked for a short time at Barnes and Noble...but I had to give it up because my book addiction was swallowing my already meager paychecks whole. (Employment by Sephora, MAC, or Nordstrom would be even less lucrative. I would have to pay THEM every two weeks to support my habit). Ideally I want a cozy library in my house at some point (preferably with huge windows and a fireplace). Comfort and assurance in being surrounded by literary greatness. Also, Cd's. Have to giggle at this...I am mocked regularly for hanging on to the whole disc thing. Call it nostalgia, call it distrust of technology- but if my I-Pod is stolen and my computer crashes...(and knowing me, both are possibilities if not likelihoods)- I will still have my music, backed up with the original disc for insurance purposes. And you, Smarty Pants? Play your cards right- and if you beg and do the "You were right-I was wrong" dance (in cute boots of course)- I just MIGHT let you borrow my CD's.
7. Pathetic how much I talk about this...but Coffee HAS to make the list. I guess the guilty part of it is the five assorted flavored creamers I have to dress it up. You know,accessorize. Coffee's destiny is not only to coat your spirit in a liquid fountain of soothing, melty warmth...there IS that. But it also has to taste delish and look fantastic. I have a team of coffee mugs ranging from polka dotted to retro Central Perk to ensure my coffee looks its java-y best. Like a glam-squad for Joe. Where did that name come from? I just like to say that...oh just me and joe...doin' our thing. Chillin'. How we roll...ANYWAY...
8. Chick Flicks...that makes me so unique (just like EVERY other girl) Among my current favorites? Anything by Cameron Crowe, starring John Cusak or Johnny Depp, Audrey Hepburn...musicals...Steel Magnolias,When Harry Met Sally, P.S.- I Love You, About Last Night, Before Sunrise,Singles, Twilight, Definitely, Maybe...and now Notebook is edging it's way onto the list...I just saw it this year for the first time. Haven't met a lot of dramas or romantic comedies I didn't like. Insert knowing nod here. I am aware *hanging head in sad disillusioned generic shame*. I will be purchasing my PREDICTABLE tee tomorrow...at least I can get it in red with sparkle in an effort to redeem myself from a lifetime of sameness.
9. Have to follow that with something that not EVERYONE does... aside from the obvious chips and salsa, hot and sour soup addiction...I season and spice everything. I am a chef's worse nightmare. I blame my mother's flair for the ordinary when it came to cooking...but I adore Taco Bell hot sauce,(ESPECIALLY now that the little packets resemble comical fortune cookies)green Tobasco, Cholula, that spicy Asian chili sauce with the squeezy bottle and green top...you name it...I have applied it to something unexpected. One of my favs? Popcorn with Frank's Red Hot...just drizzled and shaken. Soggy anything is unshiny. I am just saying...
10. Accessories...shoes, earrings,bracelets, necklaces, scarves, hats, sunglasses, belts...the list is endless...There are limitless possibilities! Reinvention, mood enhancement, glamourization...I am a strong believer in the theory (that I think I just generated) that you could wear a potato sack (not that there would be ANY point in that) if you dress it up (in my love...kudos Madonna without an inexplicable British accent) razzle dazzle it...with a little bling...even if you bought it at Target...or GAP (no one has to know and so what if they did?;)).
Thanks for indulging me (another bad joke)-
When I started this list I thought that it would be pure drudgery coming up with ten indulgences...but I could have gone on...lucky for you I am operating under preset parameters. Regardless, guilty pleasures...we all have them, whether they be behaviors, interests, edible, musical...tiny tingly indulgences we steal away for ourselves. Simple pleasures that keep us energized. Markers that keep us from losing our flair (and our sanity) to the daily hustle and bustle...let's start a petition to lose the "guilty" from the "pleasure"...seems undeserved.
So...that is my list.Hopefully it was slightly more fascinating than a dissertation on the nailing of the 95 Theses. Share yours? May make my next list...
1. Lip Gloss...let me just add here-eye shadow and mascara. Lip gloss is the only one that I refuse to face my public without(that's a joke-laugh)...but what makes it an indulgence is the fact that it is a small item that brings me infinite bliss...I kid you not...I am not overstating (for once)What else smells decadent, often tastes like frosting, plumps, tingles and comes in endless shades from radiant ruby to pouty plum? Twenty dollars or less is a small price to pay for uninhibited lip bliss. Eye shadow satisfies my undiagnosed bipolar make up moods and mascara in blackest black is a glam necessity. Yet every time I think I am in love with my mascara-a new brush,brand or formula comes along. Tiresome, really. Sorry,but I have to give a quick shout out to lotions and potions... as they fit here as well..."Can't Get Enough of You Baby" (Now I am quoting Smash Mouth lyrics..WHAT happened to them? Hangin' in a bar somewhere with Sugar Ray and Spin Doctors-eatin' fish tacos, drinkin Mexican beer? I like to think so...oh-add Robert VanWinkle to the equation).
2. Reality Television- Everyone claims to hate it, but I (not so)secretly think you're all in the RTV closet...IF I WERE the only one watching- it wouldn't be all that's on the tube...From Idol, to DWTS, Project Runway to ANTM...I am mildly addicted. And I find the lack of mental commitment intoxicating. Keep Fox and CNN for yourself - my TV brings me shallow uninformed joy. I can catch the news in two minutes on the Google homepage and not feel like poking myself in the eye with the remote. To clarify: I am not celebrating ignorance. I just think that it is possible to stay informed without delving in the depressing and sinister ...
3. Coca Cola and if I REALLY want to indulge? Cherry Coke with real cherries...there are strict rules involved. Maybe rules is wrong. Standards? Will spare you the details. This is a controlled habit because I gave up diet years ago. Too many chemicals. So I reward myself periodically for things like Wednesday or making out of the house on time(or within seventeen minutes of on time). *I have to tag on red wine and martinis-extra dirty,extra olives here...namely because I am not a lush and don't want my occasional liquor indulgence to have it's own entry.* Definitely guilty pleasures as well-taken in moderation. Not to be savored together. Strongly, truly ill-advised. Never tried it-just CAN'T be a good thing...
4. Dancing it Out- I say this all the time...just makes me feel better about almost anything. If you have questions on the Cathartic Funk movement sweeping the nation- you can peep at my Dancing it Out(courtesy of Grey's) blog.
5. Two hour baths. These are much harder to come by...but when I have uninterrupted ME time...this is what calls my name the loudest. Favorite music, alternating bubble gum, classic or historical fiction/biography novel, fig scented candle and scenty bubbles...quite possibly my favorite guilty pleasure...One or two steamy hot water refills necessary. Plus I can indulge in other listed items simultaneously...multitasking at it's prune toed best (such an odd phenomenon-really).
6. Music,books and stationary. I worked for a short time at Barnes and Noble...but I had to give it up because my book addiction was swallowing my already meager paychecks whole. (Employment by Sephora, MAC, or Nordstrom would be even less lucrative. I would have to pay THEM every two weeks to support my habit). Ideally I want a cozy library in my house at some point (preferably with huge windows and a fireplace). Comfort and assurance in being surrounded by literary greatness. Also, Cd's. Have to giggle at this...I am mocked regularly for hanging on to the whole disc thing. Call it nostalgia, call it distrust of technology- but if my I-Pod is stolen and my computer crashes...(and knowing me, both are possibilities if not likelihoods)- I will still have my music, backed up with the original disc for insurance purposes. And you, Smarty Pants? Play your cards right- and if you beg and do the "You were right-I was wrong" dance (in cute boots of course)- I just MIGHT let you borrow my CD's.
7. Pathetic how much I talk about this...but Coffee HAS to make the list. I guess the guilty part of it is the five assorted flavored creamers I have to dress it up. You know,accessorize. Coffee's destiny is not only to coat your spirit in a liquid fountain of soothing, melty warmth...there IS that. But it also has to taste delish and look fantastic. I have a team of coffee mugs ranging from polka dotted to retro Central Perk to ensure my coffee looks its java-y best. Like a glam-squad for Joe. Where did that name come from? I just like to say that...oh just me and joe...doin' our thing. Chillin'. How we roll...ANYWAY...
8. Chick Flicks...that makes me so unique (just like EVERY other girl) Among my current favorites? Anything by Cameron Crowe, starring John Cusak or Johnny Depp, Audrey Hepburn...musicals...Steel Magnolias,When Harry Met Sally, P.S.- I Love You, About Last Night, Before Sunrise,Singles, Twilight, Definitely, Maybe...and now Notebook is edging it's way onto the list...I just saw it this year for the first time. Haven't met a lot of dramas or romantic comedies I didn't like. Insert knowing nod here. I am aware *hanging head in sad disillusioned generic shame*. I will be purchasing my PREDICTABLE tee tomorrow...at least I can get it in red with sparkle in an effort to redeem myself from a lifetime of sameness.
9. Have to follow that with something that not EVERYONE does... aside from the obvious chips and salsa, hot and sour soup addiction...I season and spice everything. I am a chef's worse nightmare. I blame my mother's flair for the ordinary when it came to cooking...but I adore Taco Bell hot sauce,(ESPECIALLY now that the little packets resemble comical fortune cookies)green Tobasco, Cholula, that spicy Asian chili sauce with the squeezy bottle and green top...you name it...I have applied it to something unexpected. One of my favs? Popcorn with Frank's Red Hot...just drizzled and shaken. Soggy anything is unshiny. I am just saying...
10. Accessories...shoes, earrings,bracelets, necklaces, scarves, hats, sunglasses, belts...the list is endless...There are limitless possibilities! Reinvention, mood enhancement, glamourization...I am a strong believer in the theory (that I think I just generated) that you could wear a potato sack (not that there would be ANY point in that) if you dress it up (in my love...kudos Madonna without an inexplicable British accent) razzle dazzle it...with a little bling...even if you bought it at Target...or GAP (no one has to know and so what if they did?;)).
Thanks for indulging me (another bad joke)-
When I started this list I thought that it would be pure drudgery coming up with ten indulgences...but I could have gone on...lucky for you I am operating under preset parameters. Regardless, guilty pleasures...we all have them, whether they be behaviors, interests, edible, musical...tiny tingly indulgences we steal away for ourselves. Simple pleasures that keep us energized. Markers that keep us from losing our flair (and our sanity) to the daily hustle and bustle...let's start a petition to lose the "guilty" from the "pleasure"...seems undeserved.
So...that is my list.Hopefully it was slightly more fascinating than a dissertation on the nailing of the 95 Theses. Share yours? May make my next list...
June 19, 2009
Had a CRAZY Dream...
Dream-sperts (I am not certain there is their official title-but why Google it when you can just make it up your own self...how educated am I?) say that we dream every single night...and that if we want to search for relevance in our dreams we should document them and then consult "reputable" dream resources. It is said that our dreams utilize a portion of the brain-subconscious that we do not use during our waking hours (some say as much of 90% of our brains lie dormant-there are days when we could all use that brain mass-Yes? Not just speaking for myself here am I?Is this not a democracy...). Dreamologists (I did it again) also say that a chunk of what we dream about is something we came into contact with over the past forty-eight hours of living...So there is that as well. As a non-expert seems to me that a lot of that IS relevant- but also what you consumed before bed-be it pinot noir, vitamins or chicken wings...and waking up mid sleep=crazy(ER) train dreams.
Keeping all of that in mind...take out your notebooks...oh Freuds in training. Analysis required please.
So last night- I nodded off at one a.m.- and then was awakened at 2:30 a.m. for spider check...(periodic part time position-inquire within) after which, I went back to sleep on the couch this time-should the creepy crawlies return. It was then, nestled uncomfortably against the remote that I had said CRAZY dream...
The sun was just reaching it's mark in the morning sky ...the birds were sing-squawking outside my window...let me just add here that for whatever reason- the birds 'round here are in insane abundance...a bit more Hitchcockesque than Snow White animated blue birds. Taking my set queue I drag myself from the embrace of my cloud-like sinky bed and face the day utterly against my will.
Coffee in hand I shuffle to the bathroom and make the usual preparations
...you know the drill...shower-lotion-potion-dress-
Apply my NATURALlook with the skilled stealth of a liner brush wielding ninja...nothing too exciting so far...
Anyway donned in a technicolor off the shoulder moss green sun dress I don't own but should- I dry my hair and style it...Here it is...are you ready? *hands shaking*
I look my reflection over for final approval reacting with chagrin at the end result...
and so- I pull out an electric shaver and proceed to buzz cut the offending side of my hair at the temple. Imagine Edward Scissorhands with razors for fingers...
That's the end...
I didn't LIKE my hair so I said "What the heck-I will SHAVE it OFF"...(Not recommended even if conducted by trained professionals)
ME- baffled and shaken (not stirred)...you...giving me answers to my CRAZY dream?
Ready, set...analyze.
Keeping all of that in mind...take out your notebooks...oh Freuds in training. Analysis required please.
So last night- I nodded off at one a.m.- and then was awakened at 2:30 a.m. for spider check...(periodic part time position-inquire within) after which, I went back to sleep on the couch this time-should the creepy crawlies return. It was then, nestled uncomfortably against the remote that I had said CRAZY dream...
The sun was just reaching it's mark in the morning sky ...the birds were sing-squawking outside my window...let me just add here that for whatever reason- the birds 'round here are in insane abundance...a bit more Hitchcockesque than Snow White animated blue birds. Taking my set queue I drag myself from the embrace of my cloud-like sinky bed and face the day utterly against my will.
Coffee in hand I shuffle to the bathroom and make the usual preparations
...you know the drill...shower-lotion-potion-dress-
Apply my NATURALlook with the skilled stealth of a liner brush wielding ninja...nothing too exciting so far...
Anyway donned in a technicolor off the shoulder moss green sun dress I don't own but should- I dry my hair and style it...Here it is...are you ready? *hands shaking*
I look my reflection over for final approval reacting with chagrin at the end result...
and so- I pull out an electric shaver and proceed to buzz cut the offending side of my hair at the temple. Imagine Edward Scissorhands with razors for fingers...
That's the end...
I didn't LIKE my hair so I said "What the heck-I will SHAVE it OFF"...(Not recommended even if conducted by trained professionals)
ME- baffled and shaken (not stirred)...you...giving me answers to my CRAZY dream?
Ready, set...analyze.
June 11, 2009
Heart for RENT-It's Musically Delicious
~Sigh~ I just got back from RENT.
Aside from the living I have yet to do the dreams to fulfill, the goodbyes to say, the mistakes to correct, the babies t raise...and... well anyway-ASIDE from ALL that I could die now...
I could pass from this life as a shiny, enraptured, tingly, big kneed girl (Serious dancing injury. Not professional- but EVERY bit as well deserved. I tried to help JT bring sexy back...instead I ended up with elephantitus of the knee...pretty AND typical.. haha...MOST importantly-TEMPORARY. Please let the Doc be right on that one thing- I am not partial to the unsightly-especially in the center of one of my longest limbs).
I LOVE RENT!-the musical...( not real life rent. Promoted (?) to a mortgage...don't so much love that). I JUST DO...let me lay it out as simply as I can for those of you who don't speak musical. RENT is to musicals what that first turn your head, twist your tongue, day your dreams crush was to your freshman year. RENT is that high school boy or girl that filled the lunchroom with coolness (Edward style) and your tummy with butterflies. The one that didn't make much sense upon the first encounter(which didn't matter cause they glam'd you with their you don't know any better than to turn and run-ness) but then once you start to hear the tick and watch the tock...you realize that it is too late. You're hooked.
Similarity ENDS there- because at least for me (sophomore year) it was a quick painful fall from that point to where I could actually see the void through the creep.
But not RENT it goes from razzle dazzling (that is from Chicago-more musical lingo. Taking notes?) to singing your soul...(we ALL want that- even if noone told you yet. Oprah will get around to enlightening you. Give her a chance. Um...I am lying. Don't listen...)and as a result liquifying you into melty idealistic romanticness and submitting you into the ugly cry. Which you can hide (not at all) discreetly by smothering your mouth daintily with your hands...the rest is why God gave us MAC and Dior...
Tiny bit of background. RENT is a Pulitzer prize, multi Tony award winning rock opera (including Best Musical) based on the friendships and romances of a group of twenty-something Bohemians set on Avenue B in New York City's lower east side in the late 1980's.These young artists must not only face the harshly difficult reality of being relevant as artists and sacrificing adult comfort and luxury for their art, but they must also learn to survive and succeed at life and love under the crushing oppression of AIDS (as if there wasn't enough existing adversity!) The music and lyrics were written by Jonathan Larson who sadly, suddenly and poetically passed as the new bloom of his efforts was just beginning to open. The concept of the play was adapted from Giacomo Puccini's opera La Boheme about a group of young artists who must find their place in the face of Tuberculosis...there are numerous plot parallels to the opera. Musetta's Waltz, a song from La Boheme is mentioned directly and Goodbye Love is closely paralleled to the opera as well. In the song-La Vie Boheme- Bohemia is the daughter of Mother Earth and the song celebrates full out catchy rocker style- the contributions in the form of poignancy and flavor that artists and their work have brought to living. Imagine lots of costuming, MTV style choreography (pre stupid non reality-reality shows) high kicks and flash. Heaps of catchy yet deep lyrics- guitars and drums,...romance in every form imaginable and SO much sassy it makes your head spin. I must apologize for failing RENT miserably at this point.
Oh oh oh! but I have to shout out here that in addition to clearly knowing the craft part of his work- Larson knew his setting. He wrote about New York...it doesn't get better! He incorporated real locations like the Life Cafe from his own life in NYC. Mark and Roger's living conditions closely mirrored Larson's own with the fire in the trash can, bathtub in the middle of a large one room apartment etc. Oh and like Mark, Larson's girlfriend also left him for a woman. All this mayhem and chaos is fun and fabulously rocklicious and soulful. If RENT tours your city (it closed as the eighth longest running show on Broadway after a treasured twelve year run)see it! RENT is currently touring with the two original leads playing the roles of Mark(Anthony Rapp)and Roger(Adam Pascal)one of the best bromances in history. Pinkie swear...Before you go-do a little research and buy and learn the soundtrack.
This is stellar advice;) (attained through personal experience) for any musical goer (novice or otherwise)-for any show. This eliminates catch up and when the plot is expressed in song because REALLY- what in life isn't? Your culture cash will be better spent and you will appreciate and relish the performance indescribably more. Especially with regards to RENT...You will still catch the gist of Damn Yankees even if you never google or download it...you just won't fully appreciate Whatever Lola Wants...RANDOM! Call my name and I shall appear!
I leave you with this...RENT is best known for Seasons of Love. All the songs are fantastic! My personal play-list:
One Song Glory
Light My Candle
Out Tonight
Another Day
La Vie Boheme A and B
I Should Tell You
Take Me or Leave Me
Without You
Goodbye Love
Halloween
I'll Cover You (reprise) I ESPECIALLY love this SAD-BEAUTIFUL one makes the heart on my sleep drip love...it JUST does...
Your Eyes
Mmmmmm...so instead of dying in my Bohemian musical ecstasy enhanced daze just now...I think I will just drift off now with visions of the RENT cast rocking in my head. Wishing you the same. Share the LOVE!
Aside from the living I have yet to do the dreams to fulfill, the goodbyes to say, the mistakes to correct, the babies t raise...and... well anyway-ASIDE from ALL that I could die now...
I could pass from this life as a shiny, enraptured, tingly, big kneed girl (Serious dancing injury. Not professional- but EVERY bit as well deserved. I tried to help JT bring sexy back...instead I ended up with elephantitus of the knee...pretty AND typical.. haha...MOST importantly-TEMPORARY. Please let the Doc be right on that one thing- I am not partial to the unsightly-especially in the center of one of my longest limbs).
I LOVE RENT!-the musical...( not real life rent. Promoted (?) to a mortgage...don't so much love that). I JUST DO...let me lay it out as simply as I can for those of you who don't speak musical. RENT is to musicals what that first turn your head, twist your tongue, day your dreams crush was to your freshman year. RENT is that high school boy or girl that filled the lunchroom with coolness (Edward style) and your tummy with butterflies. The one that didn't make much sense upon the first encounter(which didn't matter cause they glam'd you with their you don't know any better than to turn and run-ness) but then once you start to hear the tick and watch the tock...you realize that it is too late. You're hooked.
Similarity ENDS there- because at least for me (sophomore year) it was a quick painful fall from that point to where I could actually see the void through the creep.
But not RENT it goes from razzle dazzling (that is from Chicago-more musical lingo. Taking notes?) to singing your soul...(we ALL want that- even if noone told you yet. Oprah will get around to enlightening you. Give her a chance. Um...I am lying. Don't listen...)and as a result liquifying you into melty idealistic romanticness and submitting you into the ugly cry. Which you can hide (not at all) discreetly by smothering your mouth daintily with your hands...the rest is why God gave us MAC and Dior...
Tiny bit of background. RENT is a Pulitzer prize, multi Tony award winning rock opera (including Best Musical) based on the friendships and romances of a group of twenty-something Bohemians set on Avenue B in New York City's lower east side in the late 1980's.These young artists must not only face the harshly difficult reality of being relevant as artists and sacrificing adult comfort and luxury for their art, but they must also learn to survive and succeed at life and love under the crushing oppression of AIDS (as if there wasn't enough existing adversity!) The music and lyrics were written by Jonathan Larson who sadly, suddenly and poetically passed as the new bloom of his efforts was just beginning to open. The concept of the play was adapted from Giacomo Puccini's opera La Boheme about a group of young artists who must find their place in the face of Tuberculosis...there are numerous plot parallels to the opera. Musetta's Waltz, a song from La Boheme is mentioned directly and Goodbye Love is closely paralleled to the opera as well. In the song-La Vie Boheme- Bohemia is the daughter of Mother Earth and the song celebrates full out catchy rocker style- the contributions in the form of poignancy and flavor that artists and their work have brought to living. Imagine lots of costuming, MTV style choreography (pre stupid non reality-reality shows) high kicks and flash. Heaps of catchy yet deep lyrics- guitars and drums,...romance in every form imaginable and SO much sassy it makes your head spin. I must apologize for failing RENT miserably at this point.
Oh oh oh! but I have to shout out here that in addition to clearly knowing the craft part of his work- Larson knew his setting. He wrote about New York...it doesn't get better! He incorporated real locations like the Life Cafe from his own life in NYC. Mark and Roger's living conditions closely mirrored Larson's own with the fire in the trash can, bathtub in the middle of a large one room apartment etc. Oh and like Mark, Larson's girlfriend also left him for a woman. All this mayhem and chaos is fun and fabulously rocklicious and soulful. If RENT tours your city (it closed as the eighth longest running show on Broadway after a treasured twelve year run)see it! RENT is currently touring with the two original leads playing the roles of Mark(Anthony Rapp)and Roger(Adam Pascal)one of the best bromances in history. Pinkie swear...Before you go-do a little research and buy and learn the soundtrack.
This is stellar advice;) (attained through personal experience) for any musical goer (novice or otherwise)-for any show. This eliminates catch up and when the plot is expressed in song because REALLY- what in life isn't? Your culture cash will be better spent and you will appreciate and relish the performance indescribably more. Especially with regards to RENT...You will still catch the gist of Damn Yankees even if you never google or download it...you just won't fully appreciate Whatever Lola Wants...RANDOM! Call my name and I shall appear!
I leave you with this...RENT is best known for Seasons of Love. All the songs are fantastic! My personal play-list:
One Song Glory
Light My Candle
Out Tonight
Another Day
La Vie Boheme A and B
I Should Tell You
Take Me or Leave Me
Without You
Goodbye Love
Halloween
I'll Cover You (reprise) I ESPECIALLY love this SAD-BEAUTIFUL one makes the heart on my sleep drip love...it JUST does...
Your Eyes
Mmmmmm...so instead of dying in my Bohemian musical ecstasy enhanced daze just now...I think I will just drift off now with visions of the RENT cast rocking in my head. Wishing you the same. Share the LOVE!
June 1, 2009
I Don't Want To Do List
Today is a gloomy summer Monday. Those should be forbidden. Anyway in the spirit of the weather...I am disgruntled...heehee...just like the way that word sounds and I don't even work for the post office. But still, I'm a tad disgruntled. I have been living life on the slacker side as of late so I have an untidy pile or two of undesirable tasks piled up in the corner...shrieking for my attention. I don't do well with shrieking...unless I am a party to it and it is in celebration of something shriek-worthy. Under less desirable circumstances,I would typically just avoid/flee from the shrieker (source of the insidious shrieking). In this case,I am risking getting my grown up card yanked... so I guess I will have to go with option two. Rather than avoidance I will beat it down Ali style (which means I get to mock, taunt and curse at it until it is down for the count...while remaining shiny. I'm Gonna'Knock You Out. Huah! Sparkle... Things are starting to look up.) So here is my list of victims...
1. Stripping. *buckabuckawowow*...(wait for it, wait for it...) The Beds...Not a huge deal, but just like the laundry I am far more skilled at the washing and drying part...Not a Martha at folding, hanging and hospital corners...Think her cellmate had potpourri made of orange peels and cinnamon from Tuesday's prison lunch? Just wondering...White collar crimes are bizarre that way...Remember the Sesame Street song? "One of these prisoners is doing her own thing...one of these inmates doesn't belong"...and poor Martha is in the bottom right quadrant attempting to crease her jump suit with the side of a laceless shoe...next to Maude the homicidal trucker under Yasmin the Black widow...diagonal from Butchy the mulleted woman who keeps chewing her face. Anyway...the beds. Platform free. Reserve those for Wednesday afternoons when it's hailing. Allegedly...
2. Packing...as in send myself packing. to the left, to the left...everything I own in a (suitcase) to the left. Love that song- but flick me if I ever attempt to purchase another Beyonce Cd (in the spirit of J-Lo's-three quality song limit per cd)hooray for single song purchase on I-Tunes and the movie crossover thingy for saving their careers...Think I have mentioned this all important life lesson previusly...Actually I am packing for a wedding(for which I will indubitably pack the wrong shoes or the wrong underwear...cursed by the Lack of Options Plague) and my Munchkins are staying with family so I have to pack them too. I abhor packing...I am so bashing the mommas of the smurf sized travel bottles while throwing elbows at the garment bag and sucker punching my army style rolled wrinkle free clothing (if there is such a thing I don't think I would own it because it probably also includes an adjustable waist...things clothes shouldn't posess for $500 please Alec. Btw...that rolly trick doesn't work for me either)...In the same spirit I need to go through all the kiddos clothes and pack up everything that they have outgrown. That one is going to have to shriek in my ear a bit longer...both monotonous and sad...sniff sniff- they grow like adorable little mutants at lightening speed. Or in New Moon speak- like werewolves. If it's not a vampire though, it's JUST not worth it...just ask Bella. Forget it what does she know? Ask me! Teehee.
3. Start my intensive Summer Workout Program. I really DO need to get going on this...my fascinating,alluring and tempting options are get up at the plumber's crack of dawn armed with taser to ward off the coyotes and walk REALLY far (and probably get lost) because I don't run unless I am being chased or challenged. Even then my she-go still only does sprints. Gutsy not stupid. Even I am not crazy enough to marathon...OR I can stay up extra late and work out then...this is much more likely to occur. Rather than walking fast and fighting wildlife at midnight I will engage in yoga and cardio training in the form of the twenty or so various dance related workout DVDs (Curse of the Grown Up Cheerleader)in my possession-ranging from Carmen Electra to the Core Dance Training set I got conned into by Len Goodman and insomnia...Regardless...I may lose the "intensive" part...but the Summer Workout must go on...I am apologizing in advance to my hair which I will soon be sleeping on directly after washing...I will make it up to you somehow. New hat? New do? New product? We'll work out the details later...
This is just the tip of my To Do iceberg. But I have to start somewhere..."Never put off until tomorrow what you can do the day after tomorrow?" Mark Twain. A procrastinator after my own heart.
*Deep breath- in through the nose, out through the mouth. Sniff...hooooo*
Okay! Ready..."Fly like a butterfly, sting like a bee-ish"
Just as soon as I finish my second cup of coffee...
1. Stripping. *buckabuckawowow*...(wait for it, wait for it...) The Beds...Not a huge deal, but just like the laundry I am far more skilled at the washing and drying part...Not a Martha at folding, hanging and hospital corners...Think her cellmate had potpourri made of orange peels and cinnamon from Tuesday's prison lunch? Just wondering...White collar crimes are bizarre that way...Remember the Sesame Street song? "One of these prisoners is doing her own thing...one of these inmates doesn't belong"...and poor Martha is in the bottom right quadrant attempting to crease her jump suit with the side of a laceless shoe...next to Maude the homicidal trucker under Yasmin the Black widow...diagonal from Butchy the mulleted woman who keeps chewing her face. Anyway...the beds. Platform free. Reserve those for Wednesday afternoons when it's hailing. Allegedly...
2. Packing...as in send myself packing. to the left, to the left...everything I own in a (suitcase) to the left. Love that song- but flick me if I ever attempt to purchase another Beyonce Cd (in the spirit of J-Lo's-three quality song limit per cd)hooray for single song purchase on I-Tunes and the movie crossover thingy for saving their careers...Think I have mentioned this all important life lesson previusly...Actually I am packing for a wedding(for which I will indubitably pack the wrong shoes or the wrong underwear...cursed by the Lack of Options Plague) and my Munchkins are staying with family so I have to pack them too. I abhor packing...I am so bashing the mommas of the smurf sized travel bottles while throwing elbows at the garment bag and sucker punching my army style rolled wrinkle free clothing (if there is such a thing I don't think I would own it because it probably also includes an adjustable waist...things clothes shouldn't posess for $500 please Alec. Btw...that rolly trick doesn't work for me either)...In the same spirit I need to go through all the kiddos clothes and pack up everything that they have outgrown. That one is going to have to shriek in my ear a bit longer...both monotonous and sad...sniff sniff- they grow like adorable little mutants at lightening speed. Or in New Moon speak- like werewolves. If it's not a vampire though, it's JUST not worth it...just ask Bella. Forget it what does she know? Ask me! Teehee.
3. Start my intensive Summer Workout Program. I really DO need to get going on this...my fascinating,alluring and tempting options are get up at the plumber's crack of dawn armed with taser to ward off the coyotes and walk REALLY far (and probably get lost) because I don't run unless I am being chased or challenged. Even then my she-go still only does sprints. Gutsy not stupid. Even I am not crazy enough to marathon...OR I can stay up extra late and work out then...this is much more likely to occur. Rather than walking fast and fighting wildlife at midnight I will engage in yoga and cardio training in the form of the twenty or so various dance related workout DVDs (Curse of the Grown Up Cheerleader)in my possession-ranging from Carmen Electra to the Core Dance Training set I got conned into by Len Goodman and insomnia...Regardless...I may lose the "intensive" part...but the Summer Workout must go on...I am apologizing in advance to my hair which I will soon be sleeping on directly after washing...I will make it up to you somehow. New hat? New do? New product? We'll work out the details later...
This is just the tip of my To Do iceberg. But I have to start somewhere..."Never put off until tomorrow what you can do the day after tomorrow?" Mark Twain. A procrastinator after my own heart.
*Deep breath- in through the nose, out through the mouth. Sniff...hooooo*
Okay! Ready..."Fly like a butterfly, sting like a bee-ish"
Just as soon as I finish my second cup of coffee...
May 23, 2009
For the Gilles??? Like 'For the Real" Get it?
Okay one more reality show blog and I will have it out of my system-temporarily. From music to mirror balls. Of course I watch Dancing With the Stars as well as American Idol...the list goes on, but for all intents and purposes the mention of these two will suffice. How could I NOT watch it? Just think of all those sequins and glitter AND COSTUMES!!! OOOOhhhhhhhh! Hold me back...almost as alluring as vampires. Almost. Actually that has only a teensy bit to do with my addiction. For a Broadway show/musical loving girl such as my self- I just feel comfy-cozy with over the top glitz and jazz hands. I do have one complaint however-the show's definition of the word "Star" is very loosely interpreted. In fact if it gets any looser I would like to be considered for season twenty one. Not because I have a false sense of my own importance, but because at least a third of the show's contestants are met with a "WHO?" much as the reaction to the announcement of my name would be. For all anyone knows I too am an "F" list pseudo-celebrity of a cable reality show nobody watches. Potato-Potawto...(hopefully phonetic spelling makes that more sensical.)Sort of like the Circus of the Stars definition of "star"...Remember that one? (Welcome to my random, make yourself comfortable let me get you a Shirley Temple).Regardless, the Dancing With the Stars winner was announced this week and alas-America's view of the "best" is on the same level of the shows definition of "star"...to such an nth degree that I had to wonder (once again) if the voters have been watching the same show I have watched all season.
Just in case you were basket weaving or basket balling, working out,washing your hair, travelling, gardening,riding your bike in traffic sporting spandex, tweeting or cleaning your bathroom grout with a toothbrush instead of watching DWTS (gasp)- I will provide you with a few highlights. First Jewel (LOVE her)was supposed to be on the show, but was injured before the show premiered-boo! (Entertainment news personality Nancy O'Dell was also unable to compete due to injury-sort of like the upgraded version of Leeza Gibbons) Although Jewel is so earthy,unplugged, unfussed and flowery I don't imagine she would have been especially fabulous at the whole production of ballroom dancing. A garden fairy dancing the rumba is hard to get a clear picture on...She was replaced by Holly Madison of Girls Next Door and Playboy fame...Holly stepped in at the last minute so she deserved to be cut some slack. Bless her pretty bleach blond silicone enhanced little heart though, no amount of training was going to save her from her lack of musicality and two left feet. Maybe her not being able to see her feet proved a bit of an obstacle? I am not being intentionally catty but she was almost Monica Seles bad... Jewel's husband Ty Murray who is a bull rider was also on the show. Ty was as if from another line dancing planet-out of his element and I found this utterly endearing. He reminded me of a little boy at church on Easter that looks so adorably uncomfortable in the suit and tie his mommy forced him to wear. I believe he made it to the final four for different interpretations of that same reason. Other notable contestants include: Steve-O (Jackass-danced with Lacey. Find her unique and refreshing),Lil'Kim who was impressively capable and like a African-American ex-con, rapper style version of Betty Boop (she danced with Ricky Shroeder-I mean...Derek Hough), Cute as puppies real life couple, fellow country singers and dance partners Chuck Wicks and Julianne Hough, David Alan Greir (In Living Color- and pretty good in an old time movie suave kind of way...just lacked flair. He danced with Kym Johnson), Belinda Carlisle (The Bangles. She danced with Jonathan Roberts-apparently teaching women over forty is his forte), Denise Richards(Wild Things and Starship Troopers. Former wife to Charlie Sheen- Poor baby. Were they EXPECTING her to be good at THIS? She danced with Maksim Chmerkovskiy), Lawrence Taylor (NY Giants Hall of Famer- sorry but as a football fan- even I am getting tired of the football guys on the show. As you shall soon see- ALL athletes seem to inaccurately skew the votes and throw the results. Ability has little to do with it. He danced with Edyta Sliwinska...lucky Lawrence!)and Steve Wozniak (Apple Computer fame-I know as much about him as he knows about dancing but he was somewhere close to Brave heart courageous to take that on. Cheers to that! His partner was Karina Smirnoff. Thankfully she is engaged to Max now, we wouldn't want her to be tempted to hook up with
Steve. He understandably seemed QUITE smitten with her). Then there were the top three...
Would you like these in order of ability or would you prefer them in order of American likability (mainstream America has different taste than I do-WHAT?!?) haha Never mind, I will go with order of elimination...so that would be the second option.
3.In third place was Melissa Rycroft of Bachelor fame. She is the girl that Jason Mesnick picked and then unpicked. Fickle much? Unbelievably I ACTUALLY did not watch this one. I got too far behind and gave it up. Anyway she was a Dallas Cowboy Cheerleader and had some balletic background. Not EXACTLY a novice, but neither are members of boy bands (Joey Mac- we are cool like that, Joey Fatone and Lance Bass)...I don't mind that so much I guess. She stepped in for Nancy O'Dell post injury, her partner was Tony Dovalani. Melissa should have had Shawn's spot in the top two. Her scores and judges comments were consistently superior and based on her abilities that spot was rightfully hers. Melissa is pretty,classy and relatable- all she needed was a little vavavoom which Shawn as a baby of seventeen rightly doesn't have either. Melissa may very well have a back up career in toothpaste adverts due to her ultra white shiny teeth. Almost like the FRIENDS where Ross whitens his teeth and they glow in the dark (I really should watch more TV...)Now that Melissa has two reality based shows under her belt, she could also become a professional "R"Lister ('R' for Reality) like Rob and Amber and the numerous Road Rules/Real World MTV Challenge-Gauntlet peeps that have made a career of non-famed fame. OR her fifteen minutes are up...
2. Gilles Marini of Sex and the City the movie fame. He was Samantha's blatantly sexcapadey neighbor-who I was flabbergasted that she didn't hook up with before returning to New York. We ARE talking Samantha here. Think the point was that she and Smith were the real deal even though it didn't work out...you don't care...Right, so I would be lying as would the rest of the women in the world if I said Gilles wasn't easy on the eyes or failed to admit that he is not a renowned celebrity either. For Nip/Tuck viewers, you will be verklempt to know that Gilles will be playing Vanessa Redgrave's husband in the upcoming season. There is another show I don't watch...See? There ARE a few-Oh he has also appeared on Ugly Betty. Fab show-sadly I couldn't keep up with that one either...ANYWAY...Gilles was the partner of Cheryl Burke. I haven't been a fan of Cheryl's since Drew Lachey- those two were FANTASTIC together. Gilles and Cheryl though...they were explosive on the dance floor. They had this jaw dropping, temperature rising,unbelievably unarguable chemistry like Edward and Bella, like Carrie and Big, like Derek and Meredith, like Scarlet and Rhett, like Noah and Allie...times seven. Gilles made Cheryl look SENSATIONAL! EVERY girl needs a frame that compliments her picture THAT way (like my dance speak? fancy!) AND they were CRAZY good...I can't recall seeing so many tens. Even from Len! The fact that Gilles was a virtual unknown going into the competition and made it to the final two is a testament to his abilities. I am going to mention here that he is French...will be more clearly relevant shortly...stay with me-know it's difficult. Like following the "logic" of Bill Mahr. Sorry for that...
1. Enter the Winner of the DWTS Mirror Ball Trophy and Olympic Gold Medalist, seventeen year old Shawn Johnson. Shawn's partner was Mark Ballas. Mark is a charismatic dancer and his choreography is phenomenal. He is extremely skilled at showcasing the abilities of his various partners. No complaints there. Shawn is a gold medal winning gymnast. She is cute, young and flippy (irrepressibly cheerable) and improved a great deal throughout the season. Progress IS always a factor, as it should be...but in a competition-the end result HAS to be the key. Shawn was clearly not as skilled a dancer at the end of DWTS as either Gilles or Melissa. Her scores are proof of that. But yet she won...the whole enchilada. Her undeserved win points to a serious flaw in the system.
Unlike Idol, my opinion on the Dancing With the Stars results are less subjective. There are ACTUAL expert judges scores to use as evidence...Bruno (the small, foreign, ultra-expressive and excitable one), Len (the traditional British one) and Carrie Ann's (the saucy Fly Girl one...)scores all reveal the winner as Gilles. Without fail. Hands (paddles) down. It almost appears as though the voter judging was based more on some twisted view of patriotism, rather than on physical dance skill and performance. Plotting the American as Apple Pie Gold Medalist against the Unknown Frenchman (Let's face it- outside of french fries, the french kiss, Chanel,wine, french twist, bread, perfume and French-Canadian hockey players...that's a stretch-there is no love loss on the part of the the United States toward France). There may have been a bit of consolation voting for Mark in the trend of the Academy Awards where voters attempted to make it up to Mark that he and Cheetah Girl-Sabrina Bryan got sent home outrageously early in spite of their high scores. Regardless the reasoning, the end result was preposterous. DWTS fans are up in stilettos? chiffon?(arms). Producers are going to have to reevaluate the process or lose viewership. As with Emitt Smith's controversial win and that of Apolo Anton Ohno-both wins have been chalked up to their outside athletic achievements, rather than their dancing. There should be a subtle way to adjust the way the winner is chosen that still allows the home voters to feel heard- but gives the ultimate decision to the judges. If left as it is...I think Dancing With the Stars will leap (sashay?) the shark shortly...
*Sigh* If that happens I will be forced to look for illegal lifts and abuse of spray tanner in the streets...
Sorry Gilles -that you were robbed of your gaudy trophy that you so steamily...I mean RIGHTFULLY deserved!!!
Argentine tango before you go?
Just in case you were basket weaving or basket balling, working out,washing your hair, travelling, gardening,riding your bike in traffic sporting spandex, tweeting or cleaning your bathroom grout with a toothbrush instead of watching DWTS (gasp)- I will provide you with a few highlights. First Jewel (LOVE her)was supposed to be on the show, but was injured before the show premiered-boo! (Entertainment news personality Nancy O'Dell was also unable to compete due to injury-sort of like the upgraded version of Leeza Gibbons) Although Jewel is so earthy,unplugged, unfussed and flowery I don't imagine she would have been especially fabulous at the whole production of ballroom dancing. A garden fairy dancing the rumba is hard to get a clear picture on...She was replaced by Holly Madison of Girls Next Door and Playboy fame...Holly stepped in at the last minute so she deserved to be cut some slack. Bless her pretty bleach blond silicone enhanced little heart though, no amount of training was going to save her from her lack of musicality and two left feet. Maybe her not being able to see her feet proved a bit of an obstacle? I am not being intentionally catty but she was almost Monica Seles bad... Jewel's husband Ty Murray who is a bull rider was also on the show. Ty was as if from another line dancing planet-out of his element and I found this utterly endearing. He reminded me of a little boy at church on Easter that looks so adorably uncomfortable in the suit and tie his mommy forced him to wear. I believe he made it to the final four for different interpretations of that same reason. Other notable contestants include: Steve-O (Jackass-danced with Lacey. Find her unique and refreshing),Lil'Kim who was impressively capable and like a African-American ex-con, rapper style version of Betty Boop (she danced with Ricky Shroeder-I mean...Derek Hough), Cute as puppies real life couple, fellow country singers and dance partners Chuck Wicks and Julianne Hough, David Alan Greir (In Living Color- and pretty good in an old time movie suave kind of way...just lacked flair. He danced with Kym Johnson), Belinda Carlisle (The Bangles. She danced with Jonathan Roberts-apparently teaching women over forty is his forte), Denise Richards(Wild Things and Starship Troopers. Former wife to Charlie Sheen- Poor baby. Were they EXPECTING her to be good at THIS? She danced with Maksim Chmerkovskiy), Lawrence Taylor (NY Giants Hall of Famer- sorry but as a football fan- even I am getting tired of the football guys on the show. As you shall soon see- ALL athletes seem to inaccurately skew the votes and throw the results. Ability has little to do with it. He danced with Edyta Sliwinska...lucky Lawrence!)and Steve Wozniak (Apple Computer fame-I know as much about him as he knows about dancing but he was somewhere close to Brave heart courageous to take that on. Cheers to that! His partner was Karina Smirnoff. Thankfully she is engaged to Max now, we wouldn't want her to be tempted to hook up with
Steve. He understandably seemed QUITE smitten with her). Then there were the top three...
Would you like these in order of ability or would you prefer them in order of American likability (mainstream America has different taste than I do-WHAT?!?) haha Never mind, I will go with order of elimination...so that would be the second option.
3.In third place was Melissa Rycroft of Bachelor fame. She is the girl that Jason Mesnick picked and then unpicked. Fickle much? Unbelievably I ACTUALLY did not watch this one. I got too far behind and gave it up. Anyway she was a Dallas Cowboy Cheerleader and had some balletic background. Not EXACTLY a novice, but neither are members of boy bands (Joey Mac- we are cool like that, Joey Fatone and Lance Bass)...I don't mind that so much I guess. She stepped in for Nancy O'Dell post injury, her partner was Tony Dovalani. Melissa should have had Shawn's spot in the top two. Her scores and judges comments were consistently superior and based on her abilities that spot was rightfully hers. Melissa is pretty,classy and relatable- all she needed was a little vavavoom which Shawn as a baby of seventeen rightly doesn't have either. Melissa may very well have a back up career in toothpaste adverts due to her ultra white shiny teeth. Almost like the FRIENDS where Ross whitens his teeth and they glow in the dark (I really should watch more TV...)Now that Melissa has two reality based shows under her belt, she could also become a professional "R"Lister ('R' for Reality) like Rob and Amber and the numerous Road Rules/Real World MTV Challenge-Gauntlet peeps that have made a career of non-famed fame. OR her fifteen minutes are up...
2. Gilles Marini of Sex and the City the movie fame. He was Samantha's blatantly sexcapadey neighbor-who I was flabbergasted that she didn't hook up with before returning to New York. We ARE talking Samantha here. Think the point was that she and Smith were the real deal even though it didn't work out...you don't care...Right, so I would be lying as would the rest of the women in the world if I said Gilles wasn't easy on the eyes or failed to admit that he is not a renowned celebrity either. For Nip/Tuck viewers, you will be verklempt to know that Gilles will be playing Vanessa Redgrave's husband in the upcoming season. There is another show I don't watch...See? There ARE a few-Oh he has also appeared on Ugly Betty. Fab show-sadly I couldn't keep up with that one either...ANYWAY...Gilles was the partner of Cheryl Burke. I haven't been a fan of Cheryl's since Drew Lachey- those two were FANTASTIC together. Gilles and Cheryl though...they were explosive on the dance floor. They had this jaw dropping, temperature rising,unbelievably unarguable chemistry like Edward and Bella, like Carrie and Big, like Derek and Meredith, like Scarlet and Rhett, like Noah and Allie...times seven. Gilles made Cheryl look SENSATIONAL! EVERY girl needs a frame that compliments her picture THAT way (like my dance speak? fancy!) AND they were CRAZY good...I can't recall seeing so many tens. Even from Len! The fact that Gilles was a virtual unknown going into the competition and made it to the final two is a testament to his abilities. I am going to mention here that he is French...will be more clearly relevant shortly...stay with me-know it's difficult. Like following the "logic" of Bill Mahr. Sorry for that...
1. Enter the Winner of the DWTS Mirror Ball Trophy and Olympic Gold Medalist, seventeen year old Shawn Johnson. Shawn's partner was Mark Ballas. Mark is a charismatic dancer and his choreography is phenomenal. He is extremely skilled at showcasing the abilities of his various partners. No complaints there. Shawn is a gold medal winning gymnast. She is cute, young and flippy (irrepressibly cheerable) and improved a great deal throughout the season. Progress IS always a factor, as it should be...but in a competition-the end result HAS to be the key. Shawn was clearly not as skilled a dancer at the end of DWTS as either Gilles or Melissa. Her scores are proof of that. But yet she won...the whole enchilada. Her undeserved win points to a serious flaw in the system.
Unlike Idol, my opinion on the Dancing With the Stars results are less subjective. There are ACTUAL expert judges scores to use as evidence...Bruno (the small, foreign, ultra-expressive and excitable one), Len (the traditional British one) and Carrie Ann's (the saucy Fly Girl one...)scores all reveal the winner as Gilles. Without fail. Hands (paddles) down. It almost appears as though the voter judging was based more on some twisted view of patriotism, rather than on physical dance skill and performance. Plotting the American as Apple Pie Gold Medalist against the Unknown Frenchman (Let's face it- outside of french fries, the french kiss, Chanel,wine, french twist, bread, perfume and French-Canadian hockey players...that's a stretch-there is no love loss on the part of the the United States toward France). There may have been a bit of consolation voting for Mark in the trend of the Academy Awards where voters attempted to make it up to Mark that he and Cheetah Girl-Sabrina Bryan got sent home outrageously early in spite of their high scores. Regardless the reasoning, the end result was preposterous. DWTS fans are up in stilettos? chiffon?(arms). Producers are going to have to reevaluate the process or lose viewership. As with Emitt Smith's controversial win and that of Apolo Anton Ohno-both wins have been chalked up to their outside athletic achievements, rather than their dancing. There should be a subtle way to adjust the way the winner is chosen that still allows the home voters to feel heard- but gives the ultimate decision to the judges. If left as it is...I think Dancing With the Stars will leap (sashay?) the shark shortly...
*Sigh* If that happens I will be forced to look for illegal lifts and abuse of spray tanner in the streets...
Sorry Gilles -that you were robbed of your gaudy trophy that you so steamily...I mean RIGHTFULLY deserved!!!
Argentine tango before you go?
And the American Idol is...What the..?!?!
I am not sure about you- but I take in a shameful amount of Reality Television-even though I am not at all shamed by it as you will see by my unapologetic carrying on...
It all began with Real World-which I haven't seen in the past few seasons.I didn't even watch Real World Denver(The house they lived in was a converted bar-B-52's where I used to sip occasionally,back in the day). Then there was Survivor(I would vote myself off just to get away from the snakes and bugs) and America's Next Top Model (Fierceness, smiley eyes, two Jay's and a rotating retired Supermodel Judge). I even did Trading Spaces for awhile and always wondered how long it took the spray painted furniture and and super glued quick fixes to fall apart and how happy the homeowners were about their big transformation THEN? Technicalities. As fascinating as this all is-there is a point and I will get to it NOW...
The American Idol winner (from now on AI) was announced this week and as a self proclaimed expert of the reality genre (believe me-I am not bragging about my lack of life-ness-but I WOULD like to take this moment to send some love in the direction of my beloved dvr for allowing me to have what I want when I want it which includes the option to pause, rewind and delay reality. Muahahaha insert evil, powerful laugh here... You are the cat's pajamas...kudos) I can't help but feel a TAD let down-or bitterly disappointed the focus on the BITTER part.
This season of American Idol was upgraded in a lot of ways...
1. This season introduced a fourth judge Song Writer and Producer, Kara Dioguardi. Over all this seemed to be a positive, although by mid-season the show only allowed for three judges to comment on performances. It was usually Simon and Paula and then EITHER Randy OR Kara who got to speak. Sure that was good for their egos. I am not sure which would be harder to take: Taking turns OR knowing that viewers would rather hear what Paula had to rant than hear your assessment...? When Randy didn't get to speak, viewers missed out on repetitious valuable input like "Dawg that was hot," "I don't know dawg...," and "You can sing your face off." I like to play Predict What Randy Will Say...I am right 91.8% of the time...
*I am going to take two seconds here to give a shout out to one of my favorite moments in the finale: Kara and Bikini Girl. Fight bimbosity!!! Way to razzle dazzle Kara! You rock! Especially in the T-Bird get up you sported during Rock Week. Like spirit week in high school... I suggest for next season Pajama, Backward, Hawaiian and Crazy Hair Music weeks.
2.The addition of the mirrored stage, glittery mics and falling pillars. Next season let's think of even more ways to frighten and disorient the already terrified young contestants. Shall we?
3. This downgrade is an upgrade in my book...Ryan Secrest was toned WAY down. I now find him only nails on the chalk board abrasive. Much better than needles under my fingernails painful. Secrest out? Why, YES. PLEASE...Ever seen Kathy Griffin's bit about him? PRICELESS.
4. Paula was definitely soberfied. Like a whole new Paula sans train wreck reality show, with the addition of a jewelry collection and a new album. She knew how many times the contestants had performed in a night and everything!(not like with Jason Castro last season) She even used big eleventh grade words and although her comments weren't always directly relevant, she was at least watching the same performance as the rest of us. Her comments still read a bit like the "You're a star stickers" you got on your papers in second grade. Also, I am not in a position to question the relevance of others...
5. First blind/vision impaired contestant Scott MacIntyre was on the show this season. Scott amazed me. Not because he is blind, or because he plays the piano or
EVEN that he managed to get through the cheesy group dance numbers-but a combination and sometimes synchronization of the three. Impressive Scott! Sorry they feathered your hair and dressed you like a member of the original Miami Vice cast. Your style was better before the Stylist Intervention. I smell a lawsuit or at the very least a ticket bestowed upon your Stylist on behalf of the Fashion Police. I kept wondering if you were nasty to your Stylist? Revenge perhaps?
6. This season's final five may very well be the best in Idol history. I REALLY did put that in print. I have no pride-clearly. Regardless, I think with the proper management and image consultation each of the top five can and will be successful in their respective nichey music genre cliques. Especially Allison and Danny.
7. The background singers were brought out of the dark onto center stage for various performances. I am not sure why...I found them distracting. Like having sports commentators on the fifty yard line. By definition-thought the background singers belonged in the background. Just saying...Also something about it brought the Real Men of Genius commercials to mind, I have not yet uncovered the connection there.
*Still love Simon. He is consistently the most credible judge in the World Defined by Carla. Sometimes WAY TOO harsh-that is his shtick though. Lots of little play acting/Caricature fulfillment involving and between the AI judges. He NEVER gives undeserved praise and when he gives glowing comments- They are sincere, thought out and heartfelt and are appreciated as such. Go Simon! But PLEASE stop parting your hair like that...I am not sure how you even do that since it is only about an eighteenth of an inch long...but it is like bad hair black magic.
Simon Isn't COMPLETELY Heartless Reminder- he called a girl's boss when she quit to audition for AI (she was horrendous) and got her job back for her. Fox's effort to give Simon a heart= SUCCESS!!!
Wizard of Fox? Do you think that the Wizard of Fox can help Ryan find his way back home and give Randy a vocabulary and a fashion sense that makes him look less like Louis Farrakhan or a member of Outkast rather than an ex band member of Journey. Think Steve Perry is confused by Randy's exploration of bow ties, stripes and prints? (To the tune of Oh Sherrie..."Oh Randy can THAT be you?!") I know I find it disorienting...The Wizard already gave Kara her "swagger"-her favorite word after "honey, baby, sweetie"...and gave Paula clouded clarity-which is the best any of us can hope for. LALA land sort of like the Emerald City. Only with silicone and botox where the munchkins should be. However, "that's a horse of another color..."
Now for the BIG let down.
Kris Allen is the American Idol. KRIS ALLEN!- the itty one that I expected to go home weeks ago before Matt the Hat Donning-Duelling Piano Bar Guy. Kris most definitely stepped it up in the end...but BEFORE that he was the Young Newly Wed Guy because I found him utterly undefined. Literally forgettable. That said-he IS talented. He plays the guitar and takes some creative liberties and most of them add new flava'...he seems nice (not always or typically a prerequisite for talent but whatever)and he is cute-ish in an Elijah Wood, Lord of the Rings hobbit sort of way. That movie made me want a hobbit for a pet- then I could carry it with me in a pink leopard print cage...Well if the whole Idol thing doesn't work out for Kris, then I can provide him with an attractive "plan b". I see him being in the Gavin Degraw, Jason Mraz genre- albeit less original...and miniature. I like those guys too. I will purchase his music, who am I kidding? Not even myself. And it is not so much that KRIS is the American Idol, so much as who he had to "beat" to take the crown...tiara? I am not sure which it is-considering this is a pop competition. Your call. Also...who spells "Chris" like that? "Kris" Allen-that's who! No judgement...ish.
Enter(in strobes and smoke on a spiral staircase) runner up Adam Lambert. RUNNER UP?!? Adam ENTERED Idol an unknown ROCK STAR!!! I think that only David Cook and Daughtry can come close to making that claim legitimately and Adam required less polish than those two as he was already SUPER shiny. Adam has this theatrical, fireworks stage presence. He was BORN to perform and be wild no doubt-but we won't delve into that because he is fifteen (not really) and plays for the other team. Clad in leather guy liner and hip-gloss, glam-rock,club kid style. EVERY single week he performed all out and got rave comments from the judges. EVERY SINGLE WEEK!!!!... (By the way- when and where can I get my Adam doll that sings-yells Satisfaction at the push of a button?...I will be waiting. Impatiently as always). He and Danny were the only names people remembered for the first few weeks of the show. For excellent reason! They were the best!!!That said,Danny's music started to sound the same week in and week out-I am still a BIG fan. Danny is so humble and sweet and he has that throaty, smoker, sore throat voice thing going for him. He dresses himself well (even before they qualified for help from professionals) and resembles Robert Downey Junior..Oh and his young wife died of illness something like three weeks before auditions and encouraged him to go for Idol...*sniff**sniff*...Who can compete with THAT?!?!
Clearly not Adam...
So this is the theory. Not MY original theory...but according to various official and unofficial web sources. Like in political elections, the elimination of a popular contestant (Danny) swung his votes to the next most similar contestant (Kris)...that and the Southern vote (I think Adam made some Southerners a touch uncomfortable...bless their hearts, God love em'-I ACTUALLY do love Southerners but they DO have their own rules and are very proud of them- don't expect that to change soon, or EVER) made Kris the winner. Consolation votes...
Consolation Idol.
Yadda, yadda, yadda...
Doesn't mean anything.
It is ALL irrelevant in the grand scheme of things-
Adam's star will shimmer regardless. Irrepressible. NOT being THE American Idol may cramp his too-cool-for-the-planet style less anyway. Think he got what he came for...
Hahaha Since he is probably over it- I guess that just leaves me...
It all began with Real World-which I haven't seen in the past few seasons.I didn't even watch Real World Denver(The house they lived in was a converted bar-B-52's where I used to sip occasionally,back in the day). Then there was Survivor(I would vote myself off just to get away from the snakes and bugs) and America's Next Top Model (Fierceness, smiley eyes, two Jay's and a rotating retired Supermodel Judge). I even did Trading Spaces for awhile and always wondered how long it took the spray painted furniture and and super glued quick fixes to fall apart and how happy the homeowners were about their big transformation THEN? Technicalities. As fascinating as this all is-there is a point and I will get to it NOW...
The American Idol winner (from now on AI) was announced this week and as a self proclaimed expert of the reality genre (believe me-I am not bragging about my lack of life-ness-but I WOULD like to take this moment to send some love in the direction of my beloved dvr for allowing me to have what I want when I want it which includes the option to pause, rewind and delay reality. Muahahaha insert evil, powerful laugh here... You are the cat's pajamas...kudos) I can't help but feel a TAD let down-or bitterly disappointed the focus on the BITTER part.
This season of American Idol was upgraded in a lot of ways...
1. This season introduced a fourth judge Song Writer and Producer, Kara Dioguardi. Over all this seemed to be a positive, although by mid-season the show only allowed for three judges to comment on performances. It was usually Simon and Paula and then EITHER Randy OR Kara who got to speak. Sure that was good for their egos. I am not sure which would be harder to take: Taking turns OR knowing that viewers would rather hear what Paula had to rant than hear your assessment...? When Randy didn't get to speak, viewers missed out on repetitious valuable input like "Dawg that was hot," "I don't know dawg...," and "You can sing your face off." I like to play Predict What Randy Will Say...I am right 91.8% of the time...
*I am going to take two seconds here to give a shout out to one of my favorite moments in the finale: Kara and Bikini Girl. Fight bimbosity!!! Way to razzle dazzle Kara! You rock! Especially in the T-Bird get up you sported during Rock Week. Like spirit week in high school... I suggest for next season Pajama, Backward, Hawaiian and Crazy Hair Music weeks.
2.The addition of the mirrored stage, glittery mics and falling pillars. Next season let's think of even more ways to frighten and disorient the already terrified young contestants. Shall we?
3. This downgrade is an upgrade in my book...Ryan Secrest was toned WAY down. I now find him only nails on the chalk board abrasive. Much better than needles under my fingernails painful. Secrest out? Why, YES. PLEASE...Ever seen Kathy Griffin's bit about him? PRICELESS.
4. Paula was definitely soberfied. Like a whole new Paula sans train wreck reality show, with the addition of a jewelry collection and a new album. She knew how many times the contestants had performed in a night and everything!(not like with Jason Castro last season) She even used big eleventh grade words and although her comments weren't always directly relevant, she was at least watching the same performance as the rest of us. Her comments still read a bit like the "You're a star stickers" you got on your papers in second grade. Also, I am not in a position to question the relevance of others...
5. First blind/vision impaired contestant Scott MacIntyre was on the show this season. Scott amazed me. Not because he is blind, or because he plays the piano or
EVEN that he managed to get through the cheesy group dance numbers-but a combination and sometimes synchronization of the three. Impressive Scott! Sorry they feathered your hair and dressed you like a member of the original Miami Vice cast. Your style was better before the Stylist Intervention. I smell a lawsuit or at the very least a ticket bestowed upon your Stylist on behalf of the Fashion Police. I kept wondering if you were nasty to your Stylist? Revenge perhaps?
6. This season's final five may very well be the best in Idol history. I REALLY did put that in print. I have no pride-clearly. Regardless, I think with the proper management and image consultation each of the top five can and will be successful in their respective nichey music genre cliques. Especially Allison and Danny.
7. The background singers were brought out of the dark onto center stage for various performances. I am not sure why...I found them distracting. Like having sports commentators on the fifty yard line. By definition-thought the background singers belonged in the background. Just saying...Also something about it brought the Real Men of Genius commercials to mind, I have not yet uncovered the connection there.
*Still love Simon. He is consistently the most credible judge in the World Defined by Carla. Sometimes WAY TOO harsh-that is his shtick though. Lots of little play acting/Caricature fulfillment involving and between the AI judges. He NEVER gives undeserved praise and when he gives glowing comments- They are sincere, thought out and heartfelt and are appreciated as such. Go Simon! But PLEASE stop parting your hair like that...I am not sure how you even do that since it is only about an eighteenth of an inch long...but it is like bad hair black magic.
Simon Isn't COMPLETELY Heartless Reminder- he called a girl's boss when she quit to audition for AI (she was horrendous) and got her job back for her. Fox's effort to give Simon a heart= SUCCESS!!!
Wizard of Fox? Do you think that the Wizard of Fox can help Ryan find his way back home and give Randy a vocabulary and a fashion sense that makes him look less like Louis Farrakhan or a member of Outkast rather than an ex band member of Journey. Think Steve Perry is confused by Randy's exploration of bow ties, stripes and prints? (To the tune of Oh Sherrie..."Oh Randy can THAT be you?!") I know I find it disorienting...The Wizard already gave Kara her "swagger"-her favorite word after "honey, baby, sweetie"...and gave Paula clouded clarity-which is the best any of us can hope for. LALA land sort of like the Emerald City. Only with silicone and botox where the munchkins should be. However, "that's a horse of another color..."
Now for the BIG let down.
Kris Allen is the American Idol. KRIS ALLEN!- the itty one that I expected to go home weeks ago before Matt the Hat Donning-Duelling Piano Bar Guy. Kris most definitely stepped it up in the end...but BEFORE that he was the Young Newly Wed Guy because I found him utterly undefined. Literally forgettable. That said-he IS talented. He plays the guitar and takes some creative liberties and most of them add new flava'...he seems nice (not always or typically a prerequisite for talent but whatever)and he is cute-ish in an Elijah Wood, Lord of the Rings hobbit sort of way. That movie made me want a hobbit for a pet- then I could carry it with me in a pink leopard print cage...Well if the whole Idol thing doesn't work out for Kris, then I can provide him with an attractive "plan b". I see him being in the Gavin Degraw, Jason Mraz genre- albeit less original...and miniature. I like those guys too. I will purchase his music, who am I kidding? Not even myself. And it is not so much that KRIS is the American Idol, so much as who he had to "beat" to take the crown...tiara? I am not sure which it is-considering this is a pop competition. Your call. Also...who spells "Chris" like that? "Kris" Allen-that's who! No judgement...ish.
Enter(in strobes and smoke on a spiral staircase) runner up Adam Lambert. RUNNER UP?!? Adam ENTERED Idol an unknown ROCK STAR!!! I think that only David Cook and Daughtry can come close to making that claim legitimately and Adam required less polish than those two as he was already SUPER shiny. Adam has this theatrical, fireworks stage presence. He was BORN to perform and be wild no doubt-but we won't delve into that because he is fifteen (not really) and plays for the other team. Clad in leather guy liner and hip-gloss, glam-rock,club kid style. EVERY single week he performed all out and got rave comments from the judges. EVERY SINGLE WEEK!!!!... (By the way- when and where can I get my Adam doll that sings-yells Satisfaction at the push of a button?...I will be waiting. Impatiently as always). He and Danny were the only names people remembered for the first few weeks of the show. For excellent reason! They were the best!!!That said,Danny's music started to sound the same week in and week out-I am still a BIG fan. Danny is so humble and sweet and he has that throaty, smoker, sore throat voice thing going for him. He dresses himself well (even before they qualified for help from professionals) and resembles Robert Downey Junior..Oh and his young wife died of illness something like three weeks before auditions and encouraged him to go for Idol...*sniff**sniff*...Who can compete with THAT?!?!
Clearly not Adam...
So this is the theory. Not MY original theory...but according to various official and unofficial web sources. Like in political elections, the elimination of a popular contestant (Danny) swung his votes to the next most similar contestant (Kris)...that and the Southern vote (I think Adam made some Southerners a touch uncomfortable...bless their hearts, God love em'-I ACTUALLY do love Southerners but they DO have their own rules and are very proud of them- don't expect that to change soon, or EVER) made Kris the winner. Consolation votes...
Consolation Idol.
Yadda, yadda, yadda...
Doesn't mean anything.
It is ALL irrelevant in the grand scheme of things-
Adam's star will shimmer regardless. Irrepressible. NOT being THE American Idol may cramp his too-cool-for-the-planet style less anyway. Think he got what he came for...
Hahaha Since he is probably over it- I guess that just leaves me...
May 16, 2009
Just Like Bambi
Spring has sprung and you know what that means? I have been dancing around the May pole in my rumba panties (those are the burlesquey ones with the ruffles on the toosh)...Enjoy the sun. Take heart-"get your hands up-baby get your hands up..."
Your welcome.
I love you too.
Anyway I am not sure if it is the coming of Spring, or my renewed lack of direction...but this past week I did nothing but drink coffee (too much coffee and I got playful with it too a little bit of cinnamon in the grounds, a little bit of 'nilla for the sound. A little bit Of Splenda makes it sweet, a little creamer what a treat..WHAT?!? Imagine it to the tune of Mambo Number Five...I apologize), read (finished Breaking Dawn. Sniff, sniff- farewell mi amore you know where to find me if you ever decide to be unfictional- I will be sparkling in the soul quenching sun. Throat fully exposed in anticipation...) chauffeur (preschool, parks and play dates-I am only in it for the hat and the Monkey kisses), do dishes (necessary evil-beats bathrooms), watch reality television(so sorry Danny I cried too, but it is only the difference of a week apparently a little Kanye gets you to the final two...a little Kanye goes a long way with me as well...#crazy, unstable gangsters make me nervous. Breakdowns=shooting sprees and the hoes (I am not ashamed that I don't know how to spell that) better watch their backs...(I don't know what I am saying either?!?...) take care of the bare bones minimum of my duties (the dressing, the washing, the feeding the wiping) and bask in the tremendous, toasty, earth waking sun... Roll down the windows, let the wind Bridgette Bardot my hair and listen to my favorite music louder than I have right to. It's not my fault you still don't know who Billy Pilgrim is...think Harry Connick Junior is JUST the guy from Will and Grace and you don't know all the lyrics to Rent and Mama Mia...Catch up. Oh and if you are still mocking my New Kids on the Block-You're still wrong, Live a little.Be a Cover Girl, get Full Service and Twisted-Teehee...I listen to almost everything-except techno because WHAT IS THAT? Think you have to have been born after '85 or be neckless, wearing high tops and neon spandex shorts to fully appreciate...Right. So...Spring
I can't remember when I have been so giddily happy to see "someone". Sad or refreshing?...One of those.
Like the second Spring in Bambi when all the little Bambis, Thumpers, Flowers, etc... come out and find love and twitterpation...so did I. In love with green grass, long days, the scent of lilac in the air...okay sundresses sandals and mango body butter may have SOMETHING to do with my euphoria...and the hunter better step off my mom. Oops got a little excited with all the Kanye talk...
Aside from that UTTERLY euphoric.
but I may need to reign it in and try to focus just a little bit...
Where was I? You would be not at all surprised at how many times I utter those words daily...
That's right...Hooray for Spring! Come to Momma. Toe touch, triple back handspring splits, spirit hands...
My bare feet and I adore you.
Your welcome.
I love you too.
Anyway I am not sure if it is the coming of Spring, or my renewed lack of direction...but this past week I did nothing but drink coffee (too much coffee and I got playful with it too a little bit of cinnamon in the grounds, a little bit of 'nilla for the sound. A little bit Of Splenda makes it sweet, a little creamer what a treat..WHAT?!? Imagine it to the tune of Mambo Number Five...I apologize), read (finished Breaking Dawn. Sniff, sniff- farewell mi amore you know where to find me if you ever decide to be unfictional- I will be sparkling in the soul quenching sun. Throat fully exposed in anticipation...) chauffeur (preschool, parks and play dates-I am only in it for the hat and the Monkey kisses), do dishes (necessary evil-beats bathrooms), watch reality television(so sorry Danny I cried too, but it is only the difference of a week apparently a little Kanye gets you to the final two...a little Kanye goes a long way with me as well...#crazy, unstable gangsters make me nervous. Breakdowns=shooting sprees and the hoes (I am not ashamed that I don't know how to spell that) better watch their backs...(I don't know what I am saying either?!?...) take care of the bare bones minimum of my duties (the dressing, the washing, the feeding the wiping) and bask in the tremendous, toasty, earth waking sun... Roll down the windows, let the wind Bridgette Bardot my hair and listen to my favorite music louder than I have right to. It's not my fault you still don't know who Billy Pilgrim is...think Harry Connick Junior is JUST the guy from Will and Grace and you don't know all the lyrics to Rent and Mama Mia...Catch up. Oh and if you are still mocking my New Kids on the Block-You're still wrong, Live a little.Be a Cover Girl, get Full Service and Twisted-Teehee...I listen to almost everything-except techno because WHAT IS THAT? Think you have to have been born after '85 or be neckless, wearing high tops and neon spandex shorts to fully appreciate...Right. So...Spring
I can't remember when I have been so giddily happy to see "someone". Sad or refreshing?...One of those.
Like the second Spring in Bambi when all the little Bambis, Thumpers, Flowers, etc... come out and find love and twitterpation...so did I. In love with green grass, long days, the scent of lilac in the air...okay sundresses sandals and mango body butter may have SOMETHING to do with my euphoria...and the hunter better step off my mom. Oops got a little excited with all the Kanye talk...
Aside from that UTTERLY euphoric.
but I may need to reign it in and try to focus just a little bit...
Where was I? You would be not at all surprised at how many times I utter those words daily...
That's right...Hooray for Spring! Come to Momma. Toe touch, triple back handspring splits, spirit hands...
My bare feet and I adore you.
May 7, 2009
Club Rules
Do you remember when we were kids how we went through a clubhouse phase?
I THINK clubs and club houses are a gateway to childhood. Not all of us were blessed with a Handy Daddy who whipped us up Bob Villa/Trading Spaces Ty/Andrew/Carson-esque clubhouses out of the spare timber in the garage. Some of us had the kind of Daddy's that sent the car out to have the oil changed, called AAA to change flat tires and used the garage to park the car in and little else. For THOSE of us- the ones that were gifted instead with an obligatory imagination-the "clubhouse" was little more than a large refrigerator box with haphazardly cut windows and doors (due to our horrendous cutting skills- hypothetically.) I mustn't forget to mention the finger painted exterior modelling every hue of pink and red one could devise by mixing, blending and shaking the basically non-fancy four provided options. Add the finishing touch of ten dollars worth of mirrored, sparkly and scratch and sniff stickers purchased from the sticker store (NOT Things Remembered. WAY before scrap-booking was "invented" Think...Units and Merry Go Round, two scrunchies and the Go-gos and if you don't get these allusions-I STILL think you're pretty, just shake your head and say yes). Final addition crusty "grass-like" indoor-outdoor rug from under the garage steps that was dragged to the "door" that busted off shortly after it's creation, as well as every blanket a girl had to her name. Enough about the decor- the key to the club house was the rules.
As every Club Member is well aware, the Club Founder gets to make the rules. There was somewhat of a Democratic process involved. That is if by "Democratic", we are referring to the Club Founder feigning interest in what the CM's have to say and then continuing the vigorous crayola marker scribbling on poster board of what she is CERTAIN are the perfect rules. Things like:
1. The clubhouse is reserved for Club Members.
2. Club Members may only be in the clubhouse when the Club Founder is present.
3. Nothing may be added to/taken from the clubhouse decor without the permission of the Club Founder. This includes Club Members.
4. Play nice-and by nice I mean play what the Club Founder wants to play-when and how she wants it played.
5. Club meets everyday after school that we don't have anything better to do and certainly you wouldn't have ANYTHING better to do.
6. All final decisions on the addition of new Club Members are to be decided by the Club Founder.
7. The Club Founder may singly vote you out of the club for any reason without explanation.
8. The Club Founder may (and often will) alter the club rules at any time without notifying other Club Members. Obviously no vote is necessary. Creative interpretation of any and all rules by the Club Founder is to be expected.
Sounds fun! Right?
There was a little pink am/fm radio that only tuned stations halfway, dancing, bike adventures, the occasional crap (I mean craft) and cookies...so membership had it's privileges...That and the Club Founder was pretty spectacular...(insert evil delusional laugh here).
Suffice to say that the Club House phase of my life was short lived. I have always thought boys were better at this teensy weensy aspect of childhood because of that carefree attitude that so charming in boyhood often translates to cluelessness in adulthood.
Our femininity that radiates silky smooth, shimmery and vulnerable- reacts warrior princessy to our club rules and boundaries being violated. This is due to our deep seeded belief that there IS a right way to do things. Our way.
Think about your old club house rules...
Have any of them changed?
Most of mine remained the same although my club house offers better accommodations/perks smells enrapturingly delicious and my rule delivery has perfected with practice. I SO have them knocking down the door to get in.
I THINK clubs and club houses are a gateway to childhood. Not all of us were blessed with a Handy Daddy who whipped us up Bob Villa/Trading Spaces Ty/Andrew/Carson-esque clubhouses out of the spare timber in the garage. Some of us had the kind of Daddy's that sent the car out to have the oil changed, called AAA to change flat tires and used the garage to park the car in and little else. For THOSE of us- the ones that were gifted instead with an obligatory imagination-the "clubhouse" was little more than a large refrigerator box with haphazardly cut windows and doors (due to our horrendous cutting skills- hypothetically.) I mustn't forget to mention the finger painted exterior modelling every hue of pink and red one could devise by mixing, blending and shaking the basically non-fancy four provided options. Add the finishing touch of ten dollars worth of mirrored, sparkly and scratch and sniff stickers purchased from the sticker store (NOT Things Remembered. WAY before scrap-booking was "invented" Think...Units and Merry Go Round, two scrunchies and the Go-gos and if you don't get these allusions-I STILL think you're pretty, just shake your head and say yes). Final addition crusty "grass-like" indoor-outdoor rug from under the garage steps that was dragged to the "door" that busted off shortly after it's creation, as well as every blanket a girl had to her name. Enough about the decor- the key to the club house was the rules.
As every Club Member is well aware, the Club Founder gets to make the rules. There was somewhat of a Democratic process involved. That is if by "Democratic", we are referring to the Club Founder feigning interest in what the CM's have to say and then continuing the vigorous crayola marker scribbling on poster board of what she is CERTAIN are the perfect rules. Things like:
1. The clubhouse is reserved for Club Members.
2. Club Members may only be in the clubhouse when the Club Founder is present.
3. Nothing may be added to/taken from the clubhouse decor without the permission of the Club Founder. This includes Club Members.
4. Play nice-and by nice I mean play what the Club Founder wants to play-when and how she wants it played.
5. Club meets everyday after school that we don't have anything better to do and certainly you wouldn't have ANYTHING better to do.
6. All final decisions on the addition of new Club Members are to be decided by the Club Founder.
7. The Club Founder may singly vote you out of the club for any reason without explanation.
8. The Club Founder may (and often will) alter the club rules at any time without notifying other Club Members. Obviously no vote is necessary. Creative interpretation of any and all rules by the Club Founder is to be expected.
Sounds fun! Right?
There was a little pink am/fm radio that only tuned stations halfway, dancing, bike adventures, the occasional crap (I mean craft) and cookies...so membership had it's privileges...That and the Club Founder was pretty spectacular...(insert evil delusional laugh here).
Suffice to say that the Club House phase of my life was short lived. I have always thought boys were better at this teensy weensy aspect of childhood because of that carefree attitude that so charming in boyhood often translates to cluelessness in adulthood.
Our femininity that radiates silky smooth, shimmery and vulnerable- reacts warrior princessy to our club rules and boundaries being violated. This is due to our deep seeded belief that there IS a right way to do things. Our way.
Think about your old club house rules...
Have any of them changed?
Most of mine remained the same although my club house offers better accommodations/perks smells enrapturingly delicious and my rule delivery has perfected with practice. I SO have them knocking down the door to get in.
April 27, 2009
Reasons Why Coffee is More Satisfying Than Boys...Sometimes
Okay so I am sitting at the table today with my three year old daughter. We are both "reading..." you know about princesses, talking animals and vampires. Note to self. Branch out...Me a cup of coffee in hand, her a Dora cup with that savory juice water mix that I give her so her teeth don't rot. Ewww! (The backwoods teeth theme to Deliverance being strummed in the background...not the juice concoction). Anyway, I notice her eying my coffee which she does a couple of times a week. At which point I generally remind her that caffeine is for grown ups... Blah blah blah. You know, in that way we copy our parents in a vain attempt to explain that as adults we can do things that are bad for us if we want to. I am quite certain that during such speeches I am transformed into Charlie Brown's teacher. Droning on in my daughter's head .You know, Wahwahwahwwhwahwah....
So she is looking at my coffee the wistful way she looks at my lip gloss collection and says in a voice much like that of Cindy Lou Who's..."Maybe when I am big as you ( one of her favorite games to play)- then I can drink coffee WITH you sometimes.. Not now though because little kids can't have caffeine." When she says things like this it is with that longing tone kids say "I wish I knew what that tastes like -" say when a stranger dares to partake of a cookie in their presence. Precious right? So we have a date, when she is old enough that caffeine won't stunt her growth, she and I will go for coffee- for now she has to settle for watery juice or a milk steamer.
Anyway- this of course brought to mind my coffee passion. Which gave me this idea, which I probably should have given it back. Y'know- "thanks but no thanks.." BUT I didn't. So here it is. Reasons Why Coffee is (Sometimes) More Lovable Than Boys... ( the grown variety) This is not a man hating thing at all... Just that- coffee completes me. Heehee. Atleast before two p.m. After that I complete myself.
1. Coffee is Predictable - in the BEST way.- Made to order. Served steamy hot OR icy cold. Sweet or bitter,smoothe or straightforward. Sophisticated or simple. Haha European, Brazilian, Jamaican...take your pick. Regardless- you know exactly what you're getting because you ordered it that way.
2. Coffee mixes well with your girlfriends and shopping. Need I say more? Also it doesn't remind you that you have fifty MAC shadows at home already and only two eyes to apply it to. Coffee understands.
3. Coffee only wakes you up when you want it to.
4. You can find the perfect cup of joe on the first attempt. No fuss. And at a drive-through no less. Talk about instant gratification.
5. Coffee warms you up whenever asked and doesn't complain that your feet are too cold. And REALLY? Man up. Hypothetically...
6. You give your coffee lip all the time and you never have to worry about starting a nonsensical argument. In fact, it gives you a melty kiss in return. Now if only we could teach it the hair tug.
7. Coffee doesn't interrupt you when you're reading to ask if it has clean socks. Coffee appreciates that while being a woman is a glorious, beautiful, complex and fabulous thing that comes with inmeasurable benefits-being utilized as a tracking device is not one of them. Why can boys NEVER find things again? :) Maybe the Myth Buster team should try to defunct that one- good luck.
8. Coffee is eager to please you...in a Jane Austen Victorian romance kind of way- not in a fetch you your paper kind of way. Awww... When the Internet finishes it's serial slayings of printed media, will puppies fetch I- Macs? Sad visual. What about the Times famous crossword- what will become of that?
9. Coffee is flexible. It doesn't care that you change your mind all the time. Craves it even. It also doesn't balk at being covered in cream, splenda and sugar free syrup. Nothing wrong with that.
10. Java only passes steam and then it smells like peppermint, vanilla or caramel. It doesn't have fingers or laugh afterward. Enough said. Hhmmm.. Coffee really IS fabulous, right?
My Poor Little Bug. Perhaps hot cocoa with pink mashmallows will suffice until she is " big as me." But now... Time for another cup. Mmmmm...;) ;).
So she is looking at my coffee the wistful way she looks at my lip gloss collection and says in a voice much like that of Cindy Lou Who's..."Maybe when I am big as you ( one of her favorite games to play)- then I can drink coffee WITH you sometimes.. Not now though because little kids can't have caffeine." When she says things like this it is with that longing tone kids say "I wish I knew what that tastes like -" say when a stranger dares to partake of a cookie in their presence. Precious right? So we have a date, when she is old enough that caffeine won't stunt her growth, she and I will go for coffee- for now she has to settle for watery juice or a milk steamer.
Anyway- this of course brought to mind my coffee passion. Which gave me this idea, which I probably should have given it back. Y'know- "thanks but no thanks.." BUT I didn't. So here it is. Reasons Why Coffee is (Sometimes) More Lovable Than Boys... ( the grown variety) This is not a man hating thing at all... Just that- coffee completes me. Heehee. Atleast before two p.m. After that I complete myself.
1. Coffee is Predictable - in the BEST way.- Made to order. Served steamy hot OR icy cold. Sweet or bitter,smoothe or straightforward. Sophisticated or simple. Haha European, Brazilian, Jamaican...take your pick. Regardless- you know exactly what you're getting because you ordered it that way.
2. Coffee mixes well with your girlfriends and shopping. Need I say more? Also it doesn't remind you that you have fifty MAC shadows at home already and only two eyes to apply it to. Coffee understands.
3. Coffee only wakes you up when you want it to.
4. You can find the perfect cup of joe on the first attempt. No fuss. And at a drive-through no less. Talk about instant gratification.
5. Coffee warms you up whenever asked and doesn't complain that your feet are too cold. And REALLY? Man up. Hypothetically...
6. You give your coffee lip all the time and you never have to worry about starting a nonsensical argument. In fact, it gives you a melty kiss in return. Now if only we could teach it the hair tug.
7. Coffee doesn't interrupt you when you're reading to ask if it has clean socks. Coffee appreciates that while being a woman is a glorious, beautiful, complex and fabulous thing that comes with inmeasurable benefits-being utilized as a tracking device is not one of them. Why can boys NEVER find things again? :) Maybe the Myth Buster team should try to defunct that one- good luck.
8. Coffee is eager to please you...in a Jane Austen Victorian romance kind of way- not in a fetch you your paper kind of way. Awww... When the Internet finishes it's serial slayings of printed media, will puppies fetch I- Macs? Sad visual. What about the Times famous crossword- what will become of that?
9. Coffee is flexible. It doesn't care that you change your mind all the time. Craves it even. It also doesn't balk at being covered in cream, splenda and sugar free syrup. Nothing wrong with that.
10. Java only passes steam and then it smells like peppermint, vanilla or caramel. It doesn't have fingers or laugh afterward. Enough said. Hhmmm.. Coffee really IS fabulous, right?
My Poor Little Bug. Perhaps hot cocoa with pink mashmallows will suffice until she is " big as me." But now... Time for another cup. Mmmmm...;) ;).
April 26, 2009
Elizabethtown...My Dearest Mr. Crowe
My Dearest Mr.Crowe,
Let me begin by throwing my own personal celebration in honor of your immeasurable genius. The muses have bestowed upon you more than your fair share of creative gifts. I am certainly not complaining, I am grateful, in fact. Grateful that you use your powers for good and share them with the masses. Myself of course, being a humbly awed member of the masses.
That said, in spite of our being complete strangers, I have something to ask of you. Sorry- it's this thing I do and I won't forgive myself for not at least making the attempt. I have placed my request in a diamond dish, doused it in pearly whipped cream, showered it in pretty please and cascaded it in rubied cherries. Mmmmm...Yummy...(holding spoon out) hear TASTE it...Okay...while your mouth is full...let me verbalize my teeny little wish for you...(kneeling down and gazing hopefully into his eccentrically electrified eyes)...
Write me...I mean, make my movie?
please, Please, PLEASE....I am not in the habit of begging. I mean I never, EVER do. But THIS could be monumentally significant. At least to me.
Don't answer right away- let it percolate. Play with those cherries for a bit- roll them around on your tongue- (I TOTALLY laced them with "There Is No Saying No To Me Serum")staining your lips with their pungent red deliciousness...
Here is my end of the deal. If you see fit to grace me with your gifts, I promise to continue my quirky quest of all things fascinating, real and inspiring. And you can cast me and enhance me and make me endearingly and irresistibly captivating. Something everyone strives for-but hoping I am the most convincing and possibly the first to think to ask this of you.
Anyway, that IS what you do best. So obviously what you were placed on this earth to do. Work your magic. You paint your subject with such intuitiveness that their humanity glows under the tender mastered stroke of your tempered brush. Each canvas reveals the bewitching complexities and alluring vulnerabilities of every subject that you are commissioned to COMPLETE (like that shameless Jerry McGuire reference?). Let ME sit for you. Make me SPARKLE...I vow to do my best to return the favor.
So Cam', ahem... I mean... Mr.Crowe. You relax and savor every last drop of the bejewelled sundae I prepared for you and consider my proposal. I will rub your neck and gush shamelessly and unabashedly about how much I ADORED Elizabethtown. Yes, I know that it was released a few years ago. See how um...provocative and multi faceted I could be? Riveting even. Typically movies are reviewed upon release-but I was saving it...in order to savor every nuance...to be untarnished by the unsolicited opinions of the less worldly, less perceptive mass members. And I am overjoyed that I did because I got to discover it on my own. Much more fulfilling that way. But now, after a second viewing- I cannot hoard it awayin secrecy any longer. Time to share it with the class.
Elizabethtown opens with a shipment of recalled athletic shoes being returned to a warehouse. Cut to Drew Baylor (played intuitively by the well coiffed and impressively non accented Orlando Bloom) reticently boarding a helicopter- lumbering under the world weight he removed from Atlas' shoulders- staring wistfully out the window at the ground below him...beckoning him to jump.
Drew's voice over...
"As somebody once said, there is a difference between a failure and a fiasco. A failure is simply the non presence of success. Any fool can accomplish failure. But a FIASCO- a fiasco is a disaster of mythic proportions. A fiasco is a folk tale told to others that make other people feel more alive because it DIDN'T HAPPEN TO THEM..."
We learn that Drew has sacrificed family social and other professional endeavors in his single goal to create the perfect trainer shoe. Before it is officially released however, the shoe is recalled. Drew is held personally responsible by his boss (played humorously by Alec Baldwin- wonder why he plays a tool so well. Hmmm?) for the company's loss of nearly one BILLION dollars and is asked to publicly take responsibility in an interview to a National Publication that will not be leaked/released for one week. Aware of his own impending doom before the rest of the world is made aware.Time to prepare oneself? Or torment oneself?
As a result of his failure, Drew has lost not only the seven years he has invested in the development of Spasmodica (Said recalled shoe) but he loses everything. His Job, his dreams, his ambition, his hope, his office girlfriend (who just so happens to be Jessica Biel . I think that having and losing her would have been reason enough to propel most men deprived of parachutes from the helicopter window. To me she will always be Mary Camden). Life as Drew knows it is over.
So Drew drags himself back home and purges his worldly possessions, leaving them on the street to be taken by celebratory looters. He then attempts to end himself by means of duct taping a very sharp knife onto the moving arm of his workout equipment. Like a slasher film gone awry...death by knife wielding elliptical seems like harsh and bizarre punishment. Just as Drew is about to unceremoniously bid the cruel world goodbye...his cell phone rings out" I can turn your grey skies blue" ...After ignoring it once and getting an immediate callback, " I can turn your grey skies blue"....Drew finally picks up. His distraught sister, Heather Baylor (played by Judy Greer) is on the other end of the line. tearfully breaking the news that their father passed when visiting Elizabethtown and the family needs him to go there to bring his body back home.
Hesitantly, Drew delays what he considers his imminent date with destiny and flies home to console his mother and sister and to retrieve his father's favorite blue suit. He then heads out on an empty red eye flight to Elizabethtown and carry out his reconnaissance mission so he can return home to cease his existence. Enter flight attendant Claire Colburn. Interestingly casted as Kirsten Dunst- Let me take a moment here Mr. Crowe (mouth gaping at your infinite skill) marvelling that you even manage to make her believable and LOVABLE. (Ready for another sundae? EXTRA cherries. Yes? That's my Good Genius)
I also need to take a pause for redirection as the winds have changed and shifted my focus yet again. Hahaha...In appreciation of the subtle greatness and the intricate balance of subtle nuance and raw emotion of this film. To model a pinch of the absolute artistry of thematic and character development shaped so precisely in your capable hands, Mr. Crowe...Because of this film's depth...its' relevancy-I now realize that the mere description of this film would be like reading the Cliff's Notes to Hamlet-and expecting the same cathartic result. Or listening to the muzak version of American Pie, or humming Jimmy Hendrix, sketching The Kiss...There simply is no doing it justice.
Allow me instead to share some of my favorite lines...No one alive today speaks truth like you. In no particular order I present you with your own AWESOMENESS: Quoting the movie is the only way to do shed any kind of light on it's glory.
Go ahead marvel at your own craft. Impossible not to. (Wiping gooey cherry juice from his chin...)
Drew Baylor: And I thought I was so mysterious...
Claire Colburn: Trust me. Everybody is less mysterious than they think they are.
Ellen Kishmore: Drew, it was real, and it was great, and it was really great.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Bill Banyon: Is there such a thing as partial cremation?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Claire Colburn: Do you ever just think I'm fooling everybody?
Drew Baylor: You have no idea.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Claire Colburn: Men see things in a box, and women see them in a round room.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Claire Colburn: I think I've been asleep most of my life.
Drew Baylor: Me too.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Claire Colburn: What they say is, it *will* hit you, it could be ten minutes or it could be ten years from now.
Claire Colburn: [voiceover] Don't get lost!
Drew Baylor: You know, there is nothing greater than deciding in your life that things maybe really are black and white! And this guy Ben, who clearly takes you for granted, who serially takes advantage of you, is bad! And what I'm saying is good! See what I mean? You shouldn't be the substitute for anybody. This guy should be right here, right now, doing this
[kisses Claire]
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Drew Baylor: What is that word...? Whimsical!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Claire Colburn: I am wearing these clothes- I mean, have you ever had unlucky clothes? This dress that you like-good things have not happened to me in this dress. But I saw it tonight and said "I am going to give you one more chance." and I REFUSE to be let down by this dress again."
Drew Baylor: Ben's very lucky, all we did was kiss.
Claire Colburn: Most of the sex I've had in my life was not as personal as that kiss.
Drew Baylor: And don't worry. Because as great as you look tonight, you are safe with me.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Claire Colburn: [voice over] Some music *needs* air. Roll down your window.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Claire Colburn: I don't know a lot about everything, but I do know a lot about the part of everything that I know, which is people.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Drew Baylor: I've just recently decided that the things we know aren't black and white.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Claire Colburn: And so we all became helpers, which I *so* can't help. I can't help helping.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Claire Colburn: I've spent so much time thinking about all the answers to the problem, that I forget what the problem *actually* was.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Drew Baylor: You're smart, you'll just wear your shoes and *never* ask any questions. Just enjoy your footwear.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Claire Colburn: To have never taken a solitary road trip across country? I mean every body's got to take a road trip, at least once in their lives. Just you and some music.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chuck Hasboro: Death and life. And death and life. Right *next door* to each other! There's like, there's a hair between them.
Drew Baylor: Because we have a moment here, let me tell you that I have recently become a secret connoisseur of 'last looks'. You know the way people look at you when they believe it's for the last time? I've started collecting these looks.
Drew Baylor: I'm not used to girl's like you.
Claire Colburn: That's because I am one of a kind.
Claire Colburn: You have five minutes to wallow in the delicious misery. Enjoy it. Embrace it. Discard it and proceed.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Drew Baylor: Can you imagine an entire life wrapped up in a shoe?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hollie Baylor: All forward motion counts.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Claire Colburn: I want you to get into the deep beautiful melancholy of everything that's happened.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hollie Baylor: It takes time to be funny. It takes time to extract joy from life.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Claire Colburn: I'm walking out the door... in last night's clothes.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Claire Colburn: Hey, now we actually have a shot at being friends for the rest of our lives.
Drew Baylor: The rest of our lives... hmmmm...
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Claire Colburn: Welcome to the annual meeting of people who annually meet, and we'll see ya'll next year.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Claire Colburn: Sadness is easier because its surrender. I say make time to dance alone with one hand waving free.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Claire Colburn: So you failed. Alright you really failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You think I care about that? I do understand. You wanna be really great? Then have the courage to fail big and stick around. Make them wonder why you're still smiling.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hollie Baylor: We were complete opposites and it worked. And something happened between us that was not part of the plan... we were in love.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Drew Baylor: In that moment, I knew success, not greatness, was the only god the world served.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hollie Baylor: I was still waiting for everything to start, and now it's over.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Claire Colburn: I'm going to miss your lips. And everything attached to them.
I have this unique thing for you...
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Claire Colburn: You know, You're always trying to break up with me, and we're not even together.
Drew Baylor: I know... We're not?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Drew Baylor: I'm fine.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jessie Baylor: This loss will be met with a hurricane of love.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jessie Baylor: I teach my kids about the things that really matter. I will teach them about Abraham Lincoln and Ronnie Van Zandt, because they are equally important in my house.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Drew Baylor: You're great, Claire. Actually, you're kinda amazing.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Claire Colburn: [after learning that Drew's father is Mitch] Ah, so you're a son of a Mitch.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Claire Colburn: Never met a Mitch I didn't like. Fun, full of life. Like... everyone wants to be a part of Mitch's club.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Drew Baylor: We should've taken this trip years ago.
Look at us- you with your many almost great projects and me with my fiasco. Oh God! Both of us working SO hard. For what? We should have taken this trip years ago...and the fact that I am going home to kill myself, is really not your fault." Spoken to his father's urn as he drives it across country spreading his ashes.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hollie Baylor: [looking at a picture of Mitch] I love you. This is for you. Your favorite song on a Saturday night.
[Moon River plays] Then Susan Sarandon tap dances...she is made for this type of role.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
(text written on a cloth above the stage): If it wasn't this... it'd be something else.
Drew Baylor: And who says we have to listen to 'them'?
Claire Colburn: *They* do!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Claire Colburn: Just tell me you love me and get it over with!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Phil DeVoss: I am ill-equipped in the philosophies of failure.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Claire Colburn: Life cannot be so cruel that we don't deserve to be together... to eat.
Drew Baylor: As a specialist in the field of last looks- this one- was pretty iconically- Claire.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Drew Baylor: By the way, I didn't say 'million,' I said 'billion.' A billion dollars; that's a lot of million.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Claire Colburn: Or look for a girl in a red had who is waiting for you with an alternate plan.
Drew Baylor closes with: No true fiasco ever began as a quest for mere adequacy. The motto of the British Special Service Airforce is:
Those who risk, win.
A single vine chute is able to grow through cement.
The Pacific Northwestern Salmon beats itself bloody on it's quest to travel hundreds of miles upstream against the current with a single purpose- (sex of course), but also...
LIFE...
*******
Heeheehee...There it is! NEARLY all that I love about Elizabethtown. Think I quoted the entire screenplay. UNBELIEVABLE! The entire script is unbelievable and unforgettable. WOW...the way you bring love to vivid technicolor cinematic life.
You spoil girls for the real boys. They can't all be Lloyds and Drews.
So...Mr. Crowe. Cameron- I appreciate your work too much to use such formality...what do you say?
In the words of Claire,
"I know- I'm impossible to forget, but I am hard to remember."
If you would see fit to toss in one of those killer soundtracks and unbelievable American landscapes...Put some Crowe-wise words into my mouth...(I don't LET anyone speak for me)... I am ACTUALLY pleading with you to...
I just thought you might help me remedy the "hard to remember part"
There is no forgetting your own masterpiece.
Of course...you can answer after your cherry drunkenness allows you to speak...
Let me begin by throwing my own personal celebration in honor of your immeasurable genius. The muses have bestowed upon you more than your fair share of creative gifts. I am certainly not complaining, I am grateful, in fact. Grateful that you use your powers for good and share them with the masses. Myself of course, being a humbly awed member of the masses.
That said, in spite of our being complete strangers, I have something to ask of you. Sorry- it's this thing I do and I won't forgive myself for not at least making the attempt. I have placed my request in a diamond dish, doused it in pearly whipped cream, showered it in pretty please and cascaded it in rubied cherries. Mmmmm...Yummy...(holding spoon out) hear TASTE it...Okay...while your mouth is full...let me verbalize my teeny little wish for you...(kneeling down and gazing hopefully into his eccentrically electrified eyes)...
Write me...I mean, make my movie?
please, Please, PLEASE....I am not in the habit of begging. I mean I never, EVER do. But THIS could be monumentally significant. At least to me.
Don't answer right away- let it percolate. Play with those cherries for a bit- roll them around on your tongue- (I TOTALLY laced them with "There Is No Saying No To Me Serum")staining your lips with their pungent red deliciousness...
Here is my end of the deal. If you see fit to grace me with your gifts, I promise to continue my quirky quest of all things fascinating, real and inspiring. And you can cast me and enhance me and make me endearingly and irresistibly captivating. Something everyone strives for-but hoping I am the most convincing and possibly the first to think to ask this of you.
Anyway, that IS what you do best. So obviously what you were placed on this earth to do. Work your magic. You paint your subject with such intuitiveness that their humanity glows under the tender mastered stroke of your tempered brush. Each canvas reveals the bewitching complexities and alluring vulnerabilities of every subject that you are commissioned to COMPLETE (like that shameless Jerry McGuire reference?). Let ME sit for you. Make me SPARKLE...I vow to do my best to return the favor.
So Cam', ahem... I mean... Mr.Crowe. You relax and savor every last drop of the bejewelled sundae I prepared for you and consider my proposal. I will rub your neck and gush shamelessly and unabashedly about how much I ADORED Elizabethtown. Yes, I know that it was released a few years ago. See how um...provocative and multi faceted I could be? Riveting even. Typically movies are reviewed upon release-but I was saving it...in order to savor every nuance...to be untarnished by the unsolicited opinions of the less worldly, less perceptive mass members. And I am overjoyed that I did because I got to discover it on my own. Much more fulfilling that way. But now, after a second viewing- I cannot hoard it awayin secrecy any longer. Time to share it with the class.
Elizabethtown opens with a shipment of recalled athletic shoes being returned to a warehouse. Cut to Drew Baylor (played intuitively by the well coiffed and impressively non accented Orlando Bloom) reticently boarding a helicopter- lumbering under the world weight he removed from Atlas' shoulders- staring wistfully out the window at the ground below him...beckoning him to jump.
Drew's voice over...
"As somebody once said, there is a difference between a failure and a fiasco. A failure is simply the non presence of success. Any fool can accomplish failure. But a FIASCO- a fiasco is a disaster of mythic proportions. A fiasco is a folk tale told to others that make other people feel more alive because it DIDN'T HAPPEN TO THEM..."
We learn that Drew has sacrificed family social and other professional endeavors in his single goal to create the perfect trainer shoe. Before it is officially released however, the shoe is recalled. Drew is held personally responsible by his boss (played humorously by Alec Baldwin- wonder why he plays a tool so well. Hmmm?) for the company's loss of nearly one BILLION dollars and is asked to publicly take responsibility in an interview to a National Publication that will not be leaked/released for one week. Aware of his own impending doom before the rest of the world is made aware.Time to prepare oneself? Or torment oneself?
As a result of his failure, Drew has lost not only the seven years he has invested in the development of Spasmodica (Said recalled shoe) but he loses everything. His Job, his dreams, his ambition, his hope, his office girlfriend (who just so happens to be Jessica Biel . I think that having and losing her would have been reason enough to propel most men deprived of parachutes from the helicopter window. To me she will always be Mary Camden). Life as Drew knows it is over.
So Drew drags himself back home and purges his worldly possessions, leaving them on the street to be taken by celebratory looters. He then attempts to end himself by means of duct taping a very sharp knife onto the moving arm of his workout equipment. Like a slasher film gone awry...death by knife wielding elliptical seems like harsh and bizarre punishment. Just as Drew is about to unceremoniously bid the cruel world goodbye...his cell phone rings out" I can turn your grey skies blue" ...After ignoring it once and getting an immediate callback, " I can turn your grey skies blue"....Drew finally picks up. His distraught sister, Heather Baylor (played by Judy Greer) is on the other end of the line. tearfully breaking the news that their father passed when visiting Elizabethtown and the family needs him to go there to bring his body back home.
Hesitantly, Drew delays what he considers his imminent date with destiny and flies home to console his mother and sister and to retrieve his father's favorite blue suit. He then heads out on an empty red eye flight to Elizabethtown and carry out his reconnaissance mission so he can return home to cease his existence. Enter flight attendant Claire Colburn. Interestingly casted as Kirsten Dunst- Let me take a moment here Mr. Crowe (mouth gaping at your infinite skill) marvelling that you even manage to make her believable and LOVABLE. (Ready for another sundae? EXTRA cherries. Yes? That's my Good Genius)
I also need to take a pause for redirection as the winds have changed and shifted my focus yet again. Hahaha...In appreciation of the subtle greatness and the intricate balance of subtle nuance and raw emotion of this film. To model a pinch of the absolute artistry of thematic and character development shaped so precisely in your capable hands, Mr. Crowe...Because of this film's depth...its' relevancy-I now realize that the mere description of this film would be like reading the Cliff's Notes to Hamlet-and expecting the same cathartic result. Or listening to the muzak version of American Pie, or humming Jimmy Hendrix, sketching The Kiss...There simply is no doing it justice.
Allow me instead to share some of my favorite lines...No one alive today speaks truth like you. In no particular order I present you with your own AWESOMENESS: Quoting the movie is the only way to do shed any kind of light on it's glory.
Go ahead marvel at your own craft. Impossible not to. (Wiping gooey cherry juice from his chin...)
Drew Baylor: And I thought I was so mysterious...
Claire Colburn: Trust me. Everybody is less mysterious than they think they are.
Ellen Kishmore: Drew, it was real, and it was great, and it was really great.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Bill Banyon: Is there such a thing as partial cremation?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Claire Colburn: Do you ever just think I'm fooling everybody?
Drew Baylor: You have no idea.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Claire Colburn: Men see things in a box, and women see them in a round room.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Claire Colburn: I think I've been asleep most of my life.
Drew Baylor: Me too.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Claire Colburn: What they say is, it *will* hit you, it could be ten minutes or it could be ten years from now.
Claire Colburn: [voiceover] Don't get lost!
Drew Baylor: You know, there is nothing greater than deciding in your life that things maybe really are black and white! And this guy Ben, who clearly takes you for granted, who serially takes advantage of you, is bad! And what I'm saying is good! See what I mean? You shouldn't be the substitute for anybody. This guy should be right here, right now, doing this
[kisses Claire]
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Drew Baylor: What is that word...? Whimsical!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Claire Colburn: I am wearing these clothes- I mean, have you ever had unlucky clothes? This dress that you like-good things have not happened to me in this dress. But I saw it tonight and said "I am going to give you one more chance." and I REFUSE to be let down by this dress again."
Drew Baylor: Ben's very lucky, all we did was kiss.
Claire Colburn: Most of the sex I've had in my life was not as personal as that kiss.
Drew Baylor: And don't worry. Because as great as you look tonight, you are safe with me.
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Claire Colburn: [voice over] Some music *needs* air. Roll down your window.
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Claire Colburn: I don't know a lot about everything, but I do know a lot about the part of everything that I know, which is people.
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Drew Baylor: I've just recently decided that the things we know aren't black and white.
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Claire Colburn: And so we all became helpers, which I *so* can't help. I can't help helping.
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Claire Colburn: I've spent so much time thinking about all the answers to the problem, that I forget what the problem *actually* was.
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Drew Baylor: You're smart, you'll just wear your shoes and *never* ask any questions. Just enjoy your footwear.
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Claire Colburn: To have never taken a solitary road trip across country? I mean every body's got to take a road trip, at least once in their lives. Just you and some music.
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Chuck Hasboro: Death and life. And death and life. Right *next door* to each other! There's like, there's a hair between them.
Drew Baylor: Because we have a moment here, let me tell you that I have recently become a secret connoisseur of 'last looks'. You know the way people look at you when they believe it's for the last time? I've started collecting these looks.
Drew Baylor: I'm not used to girl's like you.
Claire Colburn: That's because I am one of a kind.
Claire Colburn: You have five minutes to wallow in the delicious misery. Enjoy it. Embrace it. Discard it and proceed.
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Drew Baylor: Can you imagine an entire life wrapped up in a shoe?
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Hollie Baylor: All forward motion counts.
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Claire Colburn: I want you to get into the deep beautiful melancholy of everything that's happened.
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Hollie Baylor: It takes time to be funny. It takes time to extract joy from life.
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Claire Colburn: I'm walking out the door... in last night's clothes.
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Claire Colburn: Hey, now we actually have a shot at being friends for the rest of our lives.
Drew Baylor: The rest of our lives... hmmmm...
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Claire Colburn: Welcome to the annual meeting of people who annually meet, and we'll see ya'll next year.
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Claire Colburn: Sadness is easier because its surrender. I say make time to dance alone with one hand waving free.
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Claire Colburn: So you failed. Alright you really failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You failed. You think I care about that? I do understand. You wanna be really great? Then have the courage to fail big and stick around. Make them wonder why you're still smiling.
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Hollie Baylor: We were complete opposites and it worked. And something happened between us that was not part of the plan... we were in love.
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Drew Baylor: In that moment, I knew success, not greatness, was the only god the world served.
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Hollie Baylor: I was still waiting for everything to start, and now it's over.
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Claire Colburn: I'm going to miss your lips. And everything attached to them.
I have this unique thing for you...
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Claire Colburn: You know, You're always trying to break up with me, and we're not even together.
Drew Baylor: I know... We're not?
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Drew Baylor: I'm fine.
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Jessie Baylor: This loss will be met with a hurricane of love.
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Jessie Baylor: I teach my kids about the things that really matter. I will teach them about Abraham Lincoln and Ronnie Van Zandt, because they are equally important in my house.
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Drew Baylor: You're great, Claire. Actually, you're kinda amazing.
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Claire Colburn: [after learning that Drew's father is Mitch] Ah, so you're a son of a Mitch.
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Claire Colburn: Never met a Mitch I didn't like. Fun, full of life. Like... everyone wants to be a part of Mitch's club.
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Drew Baylor: We should've taken this trip years ago.
Look at us- you with your many almost great projects and me with my fiasco. Oh God! Both of us working SO hard. For what? We should have taken this trip years ago...and the fact that I am going home to kill myself, is really not your fault." Spoken to his father's urn as he drives it across country spreading his ashes.
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Hollie Baylor: [looking at a picture of Mitch] I love you. This is for you. Your favorite song on a Saturday night.
[Moon River plays] Then Susan Sarandon tap dances...she is made for this type of role.
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(text written on a cloth above the stage): If it wasn't this... it'd be something else.
Drew Baylor: And who says we have to listen to 'them'?
Claire Colburn: *They* do!
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Claire Colburn: Just tell me you love me and get it over with!
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Phil DeVoss: I am ill-equipped in the philosophies of failure.
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Claire Colburn: Life cannot be so cruel that we don't deserve to be together... to eat.
Drew Baylor: As a specialist in the field of last looks- this one- was pretty iconically- Claire.
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Drew Baylor: By the way, I didn't say 'million,' I said 'billion.' A billion dollars; that's a lot of million.
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Claire Colburn: Or look for a girl in a red had who is waiting for you with an alternate plan.
Drew Baylor closes with: No true fiasco ever began as a quest for mere adequacy. The motto of the British Special Service Airforce is:
Those who risk, win.
A single vine chute is able to grow through cement.
The Pacific Northwestern Salmon beats itself bloody on it's quest to travel hundreds of miles upstream against the current with a single purpose- (sex of course), but also...
LIFE...
*******
Heeheehee...There it is! NEARLY all that I love about Elizabethtown. Think I quoted the entire screenplay. UNBELIEVABLE! The entire script is unbelievable and unforgettable. WOW...the way you bring love to vivid technicolor cinematic life.
You spoil girls for the real boys. They can't all be Lloyds and Drews.
So...Mr. Crowe. Cameron- I appreciate your work too much to use such formality...what do you say?
In the words of Claire,
"I know- I'm impossible to forget, but I am hard to remember."
If you would see fit to toss in one of those killer soundtracks and unbelievable American landscapes...Put some Crowe-wise words into my mouth...(I don't LET anyone speak for me)... I am ACTUALLY pleading with you to...
I just thought you might help me remedy the "hard to remember part"
There is no forgetting your own masterpiece.
Of course...you can answer after your cherry drunkenness allows you to speak...
April 18, 2009
Oh Those Things...That Don't Make Sense
As adults we are prone to try to make sense of things. It gives us comfort to know that the people and the duties and the living of life can be straightened and tidied, explained and compartmentalized. We desperately desire for the elements of our chaotic universe to add up-to fit together.
Life is messy and sometimes the numbers don't equate no matter how many times we carry the one. And the colors won't blend-they clash no matter how we try to scheme them. Occasionally the pieces that make us up refuse to fit- And then what? Do we abandon them or take the trip?
If you have experienced faith in a Higher Power-you have by now come to terms with the fact that while your brain feels the need to sift through the information, you certainly cannot explain faith using solely logic. Faith is a well rounded experience. Solid because it engages your mind and your soul. Just like you can't adequately explain a timeless piece of music that plays your pain note for note- word for word. Or describe the play or the book that effortlessly brought you to life and gave yourself back to you. The painting that is so flawlessly beautiful that you gasp in awe and tear even now as it's essence haunts you. Certainly you can attempt to describe any of these with logic and words, but without the experience the definition falls pathetically and unjustly short.
If you have ever been unfathomably, unfalteringly, heart over head in love or have been genuinely, unselfishly adored and cherished by another- then you could not be more keenly aware that the initial attraction passes through the eyes and spreads to the brain and depends on the mental challenge and engagement to sustain the intrigue. At some point however, the heart takes over and puts the brain on auto pilot. Enter the overwhelming, the ravenous inexplicable... The kind of unanswerable question that keeps you hanging on even if the object of your desire and affection tears your heart out so you can watch them slowly squash it in their seemingly faultless hands. Or maybe- if your lucky...let's not mince words- if you happen to have won the eternal lottery...love has indefinably inspired another to SEE you. Allow you to lay yourself down on them with all your faults and simple complexities-in the brutal light of honesty and still you see nothing but radiant, infallible acceptance and desire reflected in their eyes. Explanation would destroy something so utterly undeserved.
True gifts should just be accepted. Without our vain attempts for clarification.
Hope. Love. Compassion, Faith. Passion. Forgiveness. Beauty. All inexplicable. Yet how foolish would we be to abandon these things the mind cannot explain. Aren't we giving our brains too much credit? I mean...I cannot seem to recall what year it was that Columbus sailed the ocean blue... rhymes with two...and how do you discover a place that has inhabitants? Or square roots...or Spanish verb conjugations. I could fill a library with the things that I don't know.
The tastiest, deepest, most poignant experiences in life are inexplicable.
Maybe...there are times when we should stop questioning the unanswerable.
And just, EXPERIENCE, ABSORB, GIVE, RELISH...
LIVE.
Just might be worth getting our hands dirty and putting our thoughts to bed.
Life is messy and sometimes the numbers don't equate no matter how many times we carry the one. And the colors won't blend-they clash no matter how we try to scheme them. Occasionally the pieces that make us up refuse to fit- And then what? Do we abandon them or take the trip?
If you have experienced faith in a Higher Power-you have by now come to terms with the fact that while your brain feels the need to sift through the information, you certainly cannot explain faith using solely logic. Faith is a well rounded experience. Solid because it engages your mind and your soul. Just like you can't adequately explain a timeless piece of music that plays your pain note for note- word for word. Or describe the play or the book that effortlessly brought you to life and gave yourself back to you. The painting that is so flawlessly beautiful that you gasp in awe and tear even now as it's essence haunts you. Certainly you can attempt to describe any of these with logic and words, but without the experience the definition falls pathetically and unjustly short.
If you have ever been unfathomably, unfalteringly, heart over head in love or have been genuinely, unselfishly adored and cherished by another- then you could not be more keenly aware that the initial attraction passes through the eyes and spreads to the brain and depends on the mental challenge and engagement to sustain the intrigue. At some point however, the heart takes over and puts the brain on auto pilot. Enter the overwhelming, the ravenous inexplicable... The kind of unanswerable question that keeps you hanging on even if the object of your desire and affection tears your heart out so you can watch them slowly squash it in their seemingly faultless hands. Or maybe- if your lucky...let's not mince words- if you happen to have won the eternal lottery...love has indefinably inspired another to SEE you. Allow you to lay yourself down on them with all your faults and simple complexities-in the brutal light of honesty and still you see nothing but radiant, infallible acceptance and desire reflected in their eyes. Explanation would destroy something so utterly undeserved.
True gifts should just be accepted. Without our vain attempts for clarification.
Hope. Love. Compassion, Faith. Passion. Forgiveness. Beauty. All inexplicable. Yet how foolish would we be to abandon these things the mind cannot explain. Aren't we giving our brains too much credit? I mean...I cannot seem to recall what year it was that Columbus sailed the ocean blue... rhymes with two...and how do you discover a place that has inhabitants? Or square roots...or Spanish verb conjugations. I could fill a library with the things that I don't know.
The tastiest, deepest, most poignant experiences in life are inexplicable.
Maybe...there are times when we should stop questioning the unanswerable.
And just, EXPERIENCE, ABSORB, GIVE, RELISH...
LIVE.
Just might be worth getting our hands dirty and putting our thoughts to bed.
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