Wednesday, April 30, 2008

20th Time's the Charm

Why am I watching The Real World? Why? I haven't watched this show since it was in New Orleans. I think I was in high school when that was on. And here I am, watching it again. Why is that?
Why am I totally sucked into the whole Joey being an alcoholic that can't control himself thing? First, he's as built as the Hulk. Then, he tells the people in the house that he shouldn't drink because he had a big alcohol problem. And then he drinks anyways because one of the guys kept giving him drinks. Don't talk to me about that guy. He's the kind of person that I wish would walk out in front of my car in the middle of the night when I don't have my headlights on. Thud.
I mean, my headlights turn on when it's dark and I don't have anything to do with that. But pretend that I am driving a Ford Pinto or something. Then, he would thud and as I swung the door open and did a drop and roll out of it, the flint bumper would explode. That would teach him.
So I am completely sucked into this whole storyline. He got really depressed and started crying when he was wasted and was telling them all how he hated life and had no will to live. I realize that he was drunk, but I also realize that you say things when you are. He gets ashamed of himself and rightfully so.
So could there be something redeemable about this show this time around? Has it take 20 seasons of this show to get to something that is worth something? Another girl on the show, she actually likes Joey, has had addiction problems as well. and so they are working together to fight it. She left the club when things started to go bad. She got out of harm's way. You go girl! That's right. I said it. I just morphed into a 12 year old black girl with glasses and pigtails with the hair-ties that have those plastic balls on them. I just became Rudy Huckstable. And there isn't anything wrong with that at all. Remember when the family sang the song for the grandparents? And little Rudy sang "Babeh! Babeh!" That is classic television right there.
But I don't remember learning a life lesson like this from the Huckstables, besides don't pierce your ear and try to hide it and small plump white boys don't make for good horseback riders. (remember when the kid sat on Cliff's lap and he was falling down and Cliff held onto his sweat shirt? Vivid.)
So I will keep watching The Real World season 20. Rooting for Joey. (and not just because I plan on naming my first dog Joey...but because I believe that smut television can also make a difference. It is what I am banking my life on.)

I'm old.

I am not incredibly old. I'm not. But I am old enough to know something that most of the people that I go to school with don't know about. See, I am older than the average senior in college. I just am. I took my own road to getting to this place and I don't regret it for a minute. After all, age ain't nothin but a number right? Especially when we get older. Age becomes less of an issue. I'm 24. Big deal if you are 21 you know?
Having said all of that, there are things that I can remember that some of you youngins might not.
For instance, I was driving when gas was less than a dollar a gallon. That's right kids. It used to be much cheaper. And not like 2.50 a gallon cheap. I mean 89 cents a gallon cheap. There was a time in my life when I would go and just drive around for hours because it didn't cost anything to do that. Now, I have to take out a loan just to drive to Dallas to see my parents. I used to jump in the car, blast the music and just drive up and down the tollway at night, just to relax. No longer.
I love my Sidekick. I do. It's the perfect phone for me. Having said that, I can remember when people my age, and teenagers especially didn't have cell phones. We had beepers. Mine was orange and I made sure that you could see the orange clip coming out of my pocket. That is for sure. From there, we upgraded to the Nokia phones that took over the world. You know the ones. Well, you might not. They were the phones that had every cover imaginable and so everyone's phones were different. Man, I wanted one of those so bad. Now, we all have phones. Even children are getting phones which is so dumb to me. No one needs a phone when they are 12. I don't care what 4 square tournament you need to get to. You don't need a phone.

I remember watching the Grammys and bring pissed that Christina beat Britney for best new artist. I watched live as she stripped on the VMAs and the next year when she danced with a snake. I watched the FRIENDS series finale live. I saw Jurassic Park...in the theaters. When I watched the original Power Rangers...it wasn't in reruns yet.
That's right. I'm old. Perspective? When Miley Montana was born, I was 9. Jamie Lynn Spears was too young to be pregnant...wait.

Monday, April 28, 2008

Chi-Chi

So I don't get the chance to do this very much, but I really love these people.
A long time ago, in a city far far away, lived some unsuspecting interns, who just thought that another regular guy would be coming to work for the summer. At first, he was shy and didn't say a lot, but after a couple weeks of getting to know them, his true colors began to show. For better or worse, his true feelings began to be let out. They didn't know what had hit them. I'm loud, I'm obnoxious, I'm not as conservative as some, I love Broadway, and I'm a hoot and a half. But enough about me.
They are the greatest folks a guy could have in his life and the time that I spent with them actually changed who I am. You know how on senior videos and stuff people make reference to how someone changed them and the song "For Good" from Wicked plays? Graduations are another time when that song gets dusted off. Nothing against the song. It's wonderful and I have cried listening to it. Whatever. But come on. It's like playing The Wind Beneath My Wings at at funeral or retirement dinner. People get this Monica complex where they want to bring up their dead dog Chi-Chi and make everyone cry like Deborah Winger.
BUT, these people actually did change my life. The course of where I was headed before then and the course of where it is headed now are two completely different places. And I miss them. I just wanted to say that. I miss them and I will get back to them soon. I might actually be there right now...turn around guys.
Ha ha made you look.
I will get there soon though.




Sunday, April 27, 2008

I Fancy Nancy

It's 2:15 in the morning and I am watching CNN. I know right? There are so many things wrong with this picture. None the less, it's true.
Nancy Grace is on. I have never really watched her before, though I have seen her when flipping through the channels or on billboards and stuff, but let me tell you how much she impressed me tonight...this morning.
She is talking to a nineteen year old guy who was asked to leave the FLDS church because he watched movies, listened to music, and drank alcohol. If I was asked to disown myself from my religion because of those things, I would be screwed on all three accounts okay? So I am listening to what he is saying.
He had 32 brothers and sisters. My aunt and uncle have 5 kids. That's a lot. They are all fantastic. I can't imagine all 32 of those kids being fantastic. Probably not.
437 kids are being DNA tested. It's just crazy to me. What is also fascinating to me is that these people don't think that they have done anything wrong. They don't find anything odd about what they are doing. That is so fascinating to me.
This is all very interesting to me because I live in Texas and so the proximity to what is going on has my interest peeked. I mean, there is a huge white temple built in the middle of the deadness of Texas. It's incredible if you look at it really. It really is. That and I live in Waco right now, home to the Branch Dividians, so I am close to the crazies all the time.
But man, I am a fan of Nancy now. She is going off about where are all the dads? All of these women in prarie dresses are fighting to be there for their kids. Dandy. But where are the fathers? They say they worship Christ. But apparently, there aren't pictures of J.C anywhere inside of there. There are pictures of Warren Jeffs, the creepster in charge of thsi whole operation, all over the place. In the bedrooms of the little girls too. Where are the Teen Beat photos of Justin Timberlake? Warren isn't even hot.

Now there is a girl on there that was a part of all of this and she got away from it. "They hunt you literally if you are female and try to get out." That's what she just said. She said that she was taught to pray to Jesus but that their fathers are lords. And Jeffs has said that he is Jesus Christ. He is called the Prophet. Right.... I love my father but I'm not gonna worship him.

Some men are said to have up to 22 wives there. What do they do? Have sex all day? I mean come on. And now apparently, they can't find the men. So many of them have taken off. Can't you just hear all of those little kids with braided hair giving a resounding "Thank you lord...I mean dad." Oh, and they also said, "Daddy? What's this?" and they hold up a crayon. That's right. The kids there don't have toys of any sort. They can have a trampoline. That's it. They weren't allowed to laugh or to have crying babies. This chick was a part of it and she ran. Can't fight that. It's just like the Scientologists who leave and start talking. Gotta love em.

Don't you just want to take a tour of that place? I mean really. The first day that the government opens that up as a tourist place or a museum or something, I am there. No lie. I want to go and see how these people lived and what exactly is inside that temple. I know that removing those kids from that place sucked for the people that had to do it, but man, what I would give to be able to go through all of that place and see what is inside there. People walking out looking Amish and everything, rumors of beds in the temple and everything. It's like a freak-show movie in real life.

I don't usually put links in my posts, but this is one of the best articles that I have read in a really long time. It's about this whole thing and it's absolutely fascinating. Not as fascinating as Sheba from Illinois that just called Nancy. I loved that she called Nancy Gracy "sweetie." Reminded me of my love for Paula Dean. Mmmm....Paula.

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/24216507/

Saturday, April 26, 2008

Marcia and Martha

What do Martha Stewart, Ashlee Simpson, Marcia Cross, Donatella Versace, and Colin Firth all have in common? They were all at the White House correspondents dinner. Why? I don't understand. I mean, Lauren Conrad from The Hills was there. Who cares who she is?! Why?!
I want to go to that dinner. I have a lot of things that I would want to say to those people. I mean, I would love to meet the President. That would be awesome. But let's call a spade a spade...I saw the inside of that place. There is no way that all of those people met W. I mean, if I am wrong, rock on.
I know that you are a fixated on what I would say to them now. Never fear.
To Martha Stewart, I would proclaim my love. I would tell her tidiness is all that I aspire to be. And then I would forbid her from coming into my apartment without 2 hours notice.
To Marcia Cross, I would tell her that I think she is wonderful, on the show and on the red carpet. I just love her.
To Ashlee Simpson, I would...well...I would compliment what she is wearing. (with a wink probably)
To Versace, I would ask her what Jennifer Lopez is like and if she can hook me up.
To Colin Firth, I would ask him to tell me his life story so that I could listen to him talk.
To Lauren Conrad, first I would 'Boo' her. Then I would probably trip her so that she would have something to put on her TV show that was actually worth watching.
What? We need more good TV.

Friday, April 25, 2008

I Can Hear The Bells

I think that one of my favorite things in life are bells. Explanation to follow:
When I walk on campus and the bells play "That Good Ol' Baylor Line," I love it. I walk and feel like I have so much spirit. It's like being in a movie. Is that dumb?

I remember the first time I went to church at Prestonwood. The bells were ringing outside and I had this out of body experience going "Oh my gosh, there are bells playing as I go into the church." It was incredible. It was like this entire environment and I was walking on a thin layer of air through it.

At Christmas, I love hearing hand bells. I always have. I played them at church when I was a kid. A wonderful woman named Janel taught us. We were probably awful, but we loved them. I really do love them. Of course, if there is a kid's choir with them that would be ideal, but alone it works too.

Even in the musical Hairspray, (on stage, not the movie) they have bells. Shouldn't we all have bells to bring out at any given moment? I think we should. What about the song "Ring my Bell?" You know it gets stuck in your head. Don't lie.

Even Munchkins sing Ding Dong as a form of celebration. Why shouldn't we?

Daily Headlines Rant

I was reading through the headlines on some of my favorite celebrity sites and I have a few thoughts. I know you are shocked. They are as follows:
I don't care that Ashlee Simpson may or may not be pregnant. I don't care that Carmen Electra is engaged again. I don't care if Jessica Simpson got Tony Romo's cake on her face. I don't care ANYTHING about Brooke Hogan. Wesley Snipes going to jail? I don't care. Clay Aiken's sexuality, what Madonna thinks about something, Paris Hilton? Don't care a bit. Anything to do with The Hills...don't get me started. Look, I love reality television. I do. But calling that reality television is like calling In Cold Blood a true story. Both of those things should say "Based on a true story" at the beginning of it.
I do actually kinda care that Tom Cruise is going back on Oprah. That was good TV the first time. You know it was. Don't lie. It was so fascinating. It was like watching a three car pile-up in slow motion. Event television. Let me tell you. And when he started jumping and gawking like a pelican? I think my heart grew three sizes that day.
I care that Carly got voted off American Idol. She was the best girl left on there, as much of a Syesha fan as I am, she was the best girl left. Brooke White better watch her hair dye because someone's gonna put green in it.
Come on celebs. Get out there, talk about your movie or your album, sing for us, and then disappear until the next charity function. I don't care about your love lives. I don't care who you aren't speaking with. I don't care who did you wrong.
But if you go on Oprah, I will totally watch you talk about it.

Tuesday, April 22, 2008

My life has been changed

It's true. My life was changed a while ago. I was watching an episode of Family Guy, innocently enough, and all the police were out of the city. So Asian reporter Trisha Takanawa is talking to a man on the street when he peels off his white skin and he is a black man in a gold thong. Just like in The Wiz. And they sang Brand New Day. Just like in the movie. And it changed my life.

Kinda like the goat on Fountain Mall today. It was so life changing that I had to report it to someone. Just like Trisha reported the news, I felt that I had to as well. It went something like this: "I didn't think that I would ever be in this position that I would have to ask you this, but...why is there a goat on Fountain Mall?"

These are two examples of things that changed my life. What has changed yours?

Wednesday, April 16, 2008

Go speed racer go!

I have decided to dedicate my life to Speed Racer. That's right. I have not felt this much excitement about seeing a movie in years. Literally, years. I mean, I didn't feel like this when X3 was going to come out.
I am completely obsessed. They have redone the theme song, but kept the chorus in tact. And it streams on the movie's website. And I have been listening to it on repeat all afternoon. My desktop picture? Speed Racer movie posters. I am completely obsessed with this movie.
No, I didn't watch the cartoon all that much, except when I worked at the ice cream store. Yes. I did. I worked there when I was 16 and Cartoon Network was the only channel it would be on. So I watched it when I wasn't doing anything, which was often. The store eventually went under and that was sad - EXCEPT - when it went under, we were able to come and get all the ice cream and candy that we wanted. That was nice. Bittersweet, but still. More sweet than bitter.
So I am completely excited about the Speed Racer movie and I can't wait to see it. I'm a guy. I need movies with fast cars and action. Plus, there is a monkey. Who doesn't love a good monkey?
Let me tell you, I saw a clip from that show "Escape to Chimp Eden" where they save chimpanzees that are treated terribly and take them to this place where they are safe and have giant fake trees to climb on. Well, on this show, the chimps were like these little pets that loved the people and hugged them all the time. Of course, that was after they hit the people in the face because they didn't trust them. But that is neither here nor there. The point is that they were so lovable. And I want one now. I mean, my real dream is to have a beagle named Joey. But I would totally take a chimp named Charlie. I realize that it would be a bit strange and veterinary bills would be high, but it would be worth it. And Charlie could ride in my car.
Just like speed racer. I would be like speed racer. If only I had a white suit and helmet. Maybe for Halloween. That would be so cool.
If the movie sucks, don't talk to me about it. I will draw my own conclusions. It's like when you are smitten by a hot girl but then you realize that she only wanted to be with you because of your DVD collection. Right. Okay. I love speed racer.

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

Sit

Remember the One when Rachael and Chandler eat all the Golden Girls' cheesecake? Or the one when Frasier interviews Will Truman about what it's like to have sex in the city? What about when Hogan and the heroes hid Lucy and Ethel in Ray and Debra's basement? Did you happen to see when Gilligan had a full house fulls of the Addams family, the Brady bunch, and the Jeffersons? Don't forget the one when Jeanie was bewitched by a creepy alien named Alf and Sabrina. She was a teenage witch you know. But don't worry. Mrs. Huckstable was there to represent Jeanie in the People's court.
Turns out, Clarissa was saved by the bell, not a witch. The Munsters didn't mean to scare Laverne and Shirley, and when this boy met the world, he also met the Simpsons, and they don't scare anyone except our parents who wouldn't let us watch them.
All in all, we learned that it takes different strokes to make a home improvement and if we just take it step by step, we learn that family matters. There is no need for a nanny. This family guy knows who's the boss. And the next time that Andy Griffith whistles at us to come over to Green Acres to hang with Mr. Cooper at the Petticoat Junction, we will know that the best thing about a sitcom is that it can be about nothing.

Sitcom is derived from the words Situation Comedy. Did you know that? Thank you wikipedia. Which means it might be total crap.

I love sitcoms. There is something wondrous about them. The idea that people come into our lives each week and make us laugh, give us things to quote, and provide us with endless hours of DVD entertainment.

Monday, April 14, 2008

I miss you.

I miss you. Did you know that? I miss you every single day of my life. There isn't a point in a day when I don't think about how much I miss you.
I wake up and I look at my pictures and I miss you. I can imagine being there with you and living it up like we did. And we certainly did have the times of our lives. I watch videos and I hurt because I miss you so badly. You know when you miss something bad enough that you hurt? When your insides feel like they are collapsing and crumpling into a horrid knot that can't ever be untangled?
I miss your smell. Is that weird? I don't think it's weird. Whenever I get a whiff of it, I am transported to being with you again. It's an odd feeling actually. You know when you smell something and it takes you back to that moment when you smelt it before? Not in a creepy way, but in a wondrous way. It's like being in that moment all over again.
I miss you. That's all.

Saturday, April 12, 2008

Angry Eyes

You know that moment when Pinocchio cheers and screams "I'm a real boy!" No, not in the Disney version. In Shrek. When he cheers but by the time he lands, he has been changed back into kindling. "Dangit." I have had that experience.
I turned in all of my final stuff to graduate in December, we all know this is a long time coming. It's like, if I don't hurry up and get my frikken degree, I am going to drop out, move to Florida and live on a public beach with the birds. The birds people. That is how bad it has gotten. I would stay closer and live with the Galveston birds, but man, they are angry and bitter down there. Maybe if the beach was cleaner they would be more user friendly.
So I turn in all of my stuff and I had this moment when I was done and I went, "Whoa. I'm done. I'm free! I'm free!" Only then realizing that I have an entire summer and fall to attack before I am done and then, whatever the future may hold always lingers over my head like a bird hovering above the top of my car, waiting for its digestive track to unleash its fury and rain down on me.
Eh. The future. Overrated if you ask me. Our entire lives we are told to think about the future, plan for the future, everything is about the future. But when it all is said and done, as much as we should actually follow that advice, sometimes we forget about today and the things that it holds. I'm already busy planning my graduation party. If you know Family Guy at all, you know the type of party that I will be having. "It's time for a sexy party" as Stewie would say, and after a summer of sweating and starving myself, I will be good to go.
The real world is staring at me with the angry eyes of a black woman wondering why two white college kids are making such a commotion inside of Church's chicken. (Which by the way is not a racism comment at all...it happened to me today. The woman thought we had three heads, which is silly because we only have two.) And do you know what I did to the angry eyes of the real world? I sat down at my kitchen table with 3 of my closest friends and we colored. That's right. We sat down with markers and paper and we created art. For 7 hours. On top of that, we raced the spectrum of films. We watched The Muppets Take Manhattan (you are never too old for the Muppets and don't fight me on it), we watched Coyote Ugly, we watched an episode of Family Guy, and we watched Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. All leading up to watching Rock-a-Doodle (that's right. Don Bluth.) and Sweeney Todd. All while creating art. So take that "real world." Take that! Now where are your angry eyes? Huh? Where are they now? That's right. Just eat your chicken.

Wednesday, April 9, 2008

Things that are Wonderful

"With all the ugliness in the world, a good noodle shop is God's way of saying 'Every thing's going to be okay.'"

What a profound analogy, don't you think? A new noodle shop. It's something that nourishes you, it is there when you need it, and it provides incredible amounts of happiness. A noodle shop is just wonderful. Small things are wonderful.

It's like the Chipmunks singing "Bad Day." I have to love the irony of all of it too. It's the sad song but it's being sung by the happiest three chipmunks that have ever lived. And their little harmonies bring harmony to my soul.

It's like frozen gummy bears. That's right. Gummy bears that you put in a dish and put in the freezer. They are cold and wonderful.

It's like wonderful oldies music that, for some reason, you remember every word to, even though you weren't born when it was a hit. Paul Anka anyone?

Take a minute to notice the small wonderful things.

Imagine. A new noodle shop. How incredibly wonderful is that? And that is a big compliment coming from me. I'm asian.

Tuesday, April 8, 2008

Curly

Where have all the Curly's gone? The people who can really sing? Not that I don't love my thin pop stars, but in watching Oklahoma, it's hard to compare them to the singers in the old movie musicals. Curly starts singing the opening and it's like this huge voice explodes.
Short fact: Did you know that the same woman sang for both Natalie Wood in West Side Story and Audrey Hepburn in My Fair Lady? Yes. Neither of those women sang in those movies. One woman sang for both of them. We were watching West Side Story and I commented on how it was the same singing voice as Eliza. Checked it, and it was.
But where did those singers go? Why don't they get people off of Broadway to do movies anymore? Why does it have to be a "star?" Not that I have anything against Nicole, Renne, or Catherine-Zeta. They are all great. But still.
No matter. Curly is fantastic. We'd be lucky to have films again like those. The old musicals. West Side Story, Oklahoma, the Sound of Music, and my favorite...Hello Dolly. I know that musicals are good now too, but still. There is something about the old ones. Whatever...You go your way and I'll go mine.

Saturday, April 5, 2008

Key please.

I forgot to lock the door.
That's bad huh? That metaphorical door? I forgot to lock it. And now I am a mess again. Note to self: Lock the door.
Except that I don't wanna.

Thursday, April 3, 2008

I love Top Chef

I got the best night's sleep last night. I mean it. It was glorious. Play by play? Alright.
I went to sleep earlier than I usually do. Almost an hour earlier. The Golden Girls were on television, there was a funny joke about being a poodle, I actually laughed out loud, I turned the television off and went to sleep. The apartment was the perfect temperature, the fan was on, the pillows were cold, it was wonderful.
And I slipped into sleep. I know there was more than one dream. I know it. But I do remember reflections of one of them. I was at at my parent's house, it was like 6 in the morning, and I was awake. That, in and of itself, should tell you it was a dream. Both of my parents are wide awake as well. So I ask them for some WD40 to fix my screetching car door and so we are all three outside. My mother is standing in the grassy knoll in the front yard, my father is standing on the sidewalk, and I am spraying my car door hinges. Of course, I sprayed myself in the face, but not in the eyes. Yet it burned on my skin. Hmm...
Anyways, I get enough on there and it stops making that dying cat sound. Then I woke up. I'm panicked. Am I late? I have a meeting with my adviser this morning. Look at my phone (which I am always scared to do because I always fear that it will tell me I woke up 5 minutes before my alarm was going to go off) and I still had hours of sleep to look forward to. Hours! It was glorious!
So I went to sleep again. This waking up thing happened a few times actually, each time, I felt more and more rested. I had some more dreams in there. I can vaguely remember hanging out with Perry from that Bravo supermodel show that no one really watches but I have been sucked in on during marathons. Probably because I watched the reunion special last night after Top Chef was on. I love Top Chef.
Finally, it was time to get up. I got up, rested completely, went to my advisement, have had schedule issues all morning but they are clearing up, rent is due today and I don't have the money, but who cares right? I got rest! Praise the God of the New Testament and the Old, I got rest!

Wednesday, April 2, 2008

Nice.

Say what you want about her boobs. Say what you want about her voice. Say what you want about her style of music. But there is something that is undeniable about Dolly Parton...she is a hoot and a half.
Look, she might have two hoots on the front of her chest, but she is an absolute hoot to hear talk. As she is talking to Simon and Co. on Idol, she was cracking me up. I think my favorite was "I've got Jesus and you've got Simon." How true of a statement.
I just think she is wonderful and she was as nice as she could be to everyone she could possibly think of. There needs to be more people like her in the world. People who are sunny and nice to others. I don't care if you think she is annoying. She is sunny and nice and we need her.
There is something to be said for positive people. Be that person. Be sunny.

Judas...you're a Judas

Um...I am telling you this story with fear in my heart. I had a terrifying moment today.

"That's nothing. I was stabbed 13 times and was paralyzed for two and a half years."

That is a direct quote.
Now, at first glance, that is a sob story. That's asking for sympathy. Let me next describe the man who said this. He drove a tow truck, which there isn't anything wrong with whatsoever. He was covered in tattoos, which also isn't wrong. He was a large man with a thick southern accent, and random piercings in his ears. None of the above mentioned things are bad. Not a single thing. But you know when someone is just scary? When there is something about them that is scary? Intimidating and scary? Yeah.
He was as nice as can be and he was very understanding to the things that we had to move. I had no problem with him. And then, he said that. Dun dun dun. The horror. Remember when the sock puppet dog did the Petsmart commercials? When he said "the horror?" in that whispered voice? Funniest thing ever.
Whatever happened to sock puppets? Why aren't there more? Have they been betrayed? Forgotten? Where is Judas? What did he do to the sock puppets? I miss them.
I mean, Judas stabbed someone in the back. That was a big mistake on his part. Stabbed. Much like the tow truck man who was stabbed 13 times. And the guy talking to him? He goes, "Oh wow. Someone was out to kill you." Thanks. Thanks for that. Suddenly I am looking over my shoulder and reaching for my imaginary taser. No, I don't know the rest of the story, but I have changed my name to Guido Morales and sandpapered my fingerprints off.


Not Gonna Write You a SMACK

Don't you just love it? I just love it. I can't help it. I just do. I love American Idol. So naturally, I have some thoughts about last night.

First - the power of songwriting. Last night showed just how important good songs are. Every single person (save for the short girl) was good last night. They all were. Why? Because they had good songs to choose from. That's the key. Good songs. Even Kristy Lee Bobbi Jo Kathy Renne Cook did well. No, I don't like her. She is, as was discussed at length last night in my apartment, HEB brand Sugar-free Soy Vanilla. Nothing special. But she was not bad last night.
Nor was Syesha. Now, if you know me one bit, you know that I love the...how should I say...soulful singers. That's right. And I have loved her since her audition. I mean, she's no Melinda Doolittle, but I love her. We joked around that she would sing that song when they announced it was Dolly week, and then she did. And it was wonderful. No it wasn't Whitney. No one is. It was wonderful. And my other favorite, Carly? She was wonderful too. Simon was right about the Kelly Clarkson factor, but I'd much rather have another Kelly Clarkson than another Chris Daughtry.
Which leads me to David "Cut My Hair So I Get More Votes" Cook. He can sing. Fine. Contrived rock voice? Yes. Hair looks better? Yes. Knows how to dress? Rather, knows who to choose to dress him? Yes. Original? Not by a long shot. His arrangement of that song was good. I will give him that credit. But at the end of the day, he thinks very highly of himself. Which is such a turn off to me.
I like Brooke a lot. She is current. She sounds like some of the singers on the radio right now. And if I have to hear "Love Song" by Sara Borriellilsisslslss, I am gonna hit someone. Probably my roommate and he doesn't like that. Does nothing for him.
Moral of the story: There is a fine line between confidence and arrogance. He is tilted over that line a little too far. He is not the best one there. He is not God's gift to the world. God already gave that gift.
Aww. That was touching.

the Great MC

I haven't really done this yet, but I feel like I need to do a shout-out. I love my family. I really do. I know that people say that, but I really do mean that. I got the pick of the litter when it comes to the animals in my family.
Before I went to spend the summer in New York, my entire family came to my parent's house and we had a party. Remember that episode of Everybody Loves Raymond when they take the family portrait with both Ray and Debra's sides of the family? It's my favorite episode and I have wanted a picture like that ever since that episode happened. Well, it happened at that party and my father only took a little over two years to get it to me...literally.
But I love my family. We don't get to all get together that often, but when we do, we always have a good time. My parents are wonderful, my sister is the other half of who I am, my brother harasses international celebrities, the dog takes big poops. We are a motley crew. Jealous?
I could insert a little paragraph here about how my friends are my extended family, but that goes without saying. There are pictures of them all throughout my blogs. But my real life fam, they are pretty stellar. As the great MC would say...can't touch this.





The Giant's Hearing Device

So, I am watching Barbara Walters, whom I love, and she is talking to people who are 100 years old, who I have also decided that I love. I mean, they were just old people until she said that they could remember waving to the troops as they left for World War 1. Then, it became totally different. I mean, I know that when someone has lived that long, they have seen a lot. But man, my grandfather was in Vietnam. This makes him seem like a young fella. A really young fella.
So...old people. I am a fan. I'm sure that is politically incorrect to say, but I don't care. I am a fan.
I mean, this special that she was doing was fascinating. We all know about cloning animals and stuff, but they are now growing new organs out of test tubes. Bladders, arteries, and they are even working on a heart.
SPEAKING OF PARTS OF THE BODY! Who doesn't love Ace of Cakes? Oh I love it so much. Making cakes that look like other things?! It's so wonderful and on the episode I am watching now, they are making a cake in the shape of an ear! A human Ear! It looks like they took the Giant from that old Mickey Mouse cartoon and lopped his ear off...except it's made of lemon poppyseed cake.
And who was it presented to? A doctor. An old doctor. Well...oldish. Barbara Walters would be so proud.

Tuesday, April 1, 2008

Greek to me.

I went to a job fair today. Exciting, I know. And it actually sounded really great on paper. 48 companies all looking for people who need summer employment. That's what I need so I went.
Look, I am not a business major. I am a writing major. I tread in the waters of creative thinking, wordplay, and crafting phrases into meaningful ideas. I don't wear a suit...I just bought a new one but that is completely based on the fact that I have a formal coming up...but I don't wear a suit. And there I was, in a large room, swirling with business students in suits and ties, trying to get marketing jobs for the summer.
You know what happens when you take a fish out of the fishbowl and drop them on the counter? They flop around for a while until they eventually stop flopping. I almost stopped flopping. I needed fresh air. I had to escape. There was hardly anything there for me and the one or two places that did have something that I could contribute to, didn't have openings. Then why come to the job fair if you don't have openings?!
Remember in a kid's cartoon, Medusa from the Greek myths? She had snakes for hair? And she is always screaming at the top of her lungs? Right. That was what was going on inside of me. The snakes of my heart were all screaming.
So I left, in my khakis and my polo shirt, passing all of the Suits that were filing around trying to sell themselves.
I know people who are business majors, and a few of them I actually care about. But I just can't do it. I can't work in an office every day like that. I can't make making money the focus of my life. I know that it's necessary and without it I can't do anything. But at the same time, I can't make it what I do in life. Always getting more and more money, no. Call me simplistic. Call me bohemian. Call me naive. I just want to be happy and help people. That's all. Being rich would be awesome, but is it my life's goal? Talk to my snakes.

It's F not PH!

When is it okay to be creative as pertains to the name of a child? I am all for thinking outside the box and giving your child a name that they can be proud of. After all, Unique is the new status symbol.
There are a couple of different ways that people think their child's name can be unique. I think my favorite is actually when they take a name that is common and change the spelling. For example: Jennifer becomes Jennipher. I have a problem with that. There are a million different ways to spell Stephanie, Christina, and Emily and personally, I don't think we need to change what works already. Stefani, Christyna and Emalie are fine the way they are. Now I know that some names just have multiple spellings. Fine. But I draw the line at Jennipher.
What about people who name people names that didn't exist before that child came shooting out of the shooter? What about people who name their children after fruit? Apple anyone? No thanks, I'm not hungry. Bluebell? No thanks, I don't need any ice cream.
But we do it anyways don't we? We just yearn to make our children's lives hard on them. Don't think that little Brock Brinson gets a say in his name and I have every intention of him being the coolest guy in school. No doubt. With a name like Brock, he's destined for greatness. What about the Asian boy that I plan on adopting? Kai Brinson. Rock star. No doubt.
Can I just plead with you? I know you are going to name your children strange names. I know it. But please, stay away from product names, fruits, or vegetables. And no Jennipher.