Seeing The Arcade Fire was like watching human Fraggles rock.Awesome. Getting to see Fraggle Rock was like a super-duper treat. Getting to see The Arcade Fire- ALSO a super-duper treat.
Jumping up and down in frou-frou puffy skirts, wild tambourine action, throwing drums to the ceiling, running from playing violin, crossing the stage with a slammin' tambourine, to hit up the mandolin (was it?) And the HAIR! Just...Fluffy tufts of bouncy hair just- everywhere...sigh. It was like seeing on stage what my heart feels on the INside.
Here's an equation for you: Kiss 10 People or Have Sex with 1.
Which sounds better to you?
Because, apparently, this is the dividing factor keeping many of us...ahem...Apart.
You've got to wonder what the rationale is behind making out with 10 different girls above pursuing a meaningful relationship which could lead to lots of making out with a bonus. I'm not one to run toward commitment, but this equation makes sense to me. It does not seem to make sense to:
*The manboys still screwing around with girls far too young to know better. *The desperate girls with no self-respect. *The lonely girls who have lost faith in men and who have forgotten how amazing they are. *The young girls who don't know better yet. *The manboys still blaming their commitment issues on the girl they were going to marry a decade ago. *The jerkoffs/walruses/slimeballs who simply have no true love of womenkind. *The truly selfish.
It seems to be logical for us to take the time and choose to be with someone we are truly compatible with. Someone who cares about us as much as we care for them. Someone who is ready and willing to fight your battles alongside you, and celebrate you as if it were their victory. I love hearing from my married friends about how great it is to plan your future alongside someone they love and who values them in kind.
So. 10 to 1. It seems a simple equation to me. Then again, I'm the one who hasn't touched math since high school.
So what's up with those people who pretend to not know you when you KNOW they know who you are? I mean, seriously- do you really think you're THAT important, that you can't bear to acknowledge someone you've met before? Now, I admit to being Queen when it comes to lack of observation, both names AND faces seem to escape me- DOUBLE BAD. The only saving grace is that if you remind me of a conversation we've had- a REAL conversation- I will remember it in entirety, word-for-word. Just not necessarily that I had it with you. I digress. We're talking about those people you meet over and over again at parties, in class, at church, and various social settings- but for some reason, they just can't get over themselves enough to just be cordial and acknowledge your prescence. Heaven forbid someone be the first to say hello!
A friend of mine has, admittedly, "one of those faces," where you think you know her, even if you don't. So 80% of the population who meet her, think they somehow know her, even if they don't. And yet, somehow, she consistantly has the same guys playing the game of, "I don't think I know you." FOR YEARS, this goes on. If I were her, I'd ask how he manages to function since the obvious massive head injury. I mean, hell- I freak out and wave to total strangers in public places (usually the grocery store) just because I think I might know them (usually I don't). So how is it that the guy from your class that you had multiple group projects with for two semesters and is friends with your friends still thinks he's fooling anyone by not acknowledging you exist? gee...Was it all really that painful?
Another girlfriend of mine took at least 4 introductions before I recognized her- but each time I remembered who she was, I remembered every single meeting and conversation we'd had over the year of incidental meetings. She ran into a guy she went on a date with, had friends in common with, went hottubbing with...and he was a complete blank when he met her again at a party. Now, that's embarassing, but somewhat understandable. Maybe. But at least he was nice. It's the people who refuse to acknowledge that they even know you. Because, I mean, really, is it sooo difficult to be nice?
Guys like that remind me of why some people hate Morrisey. He's so, "I'm so beautiful and too handsome and popular with the girls- waaaah, I'm such a tortured soul! Whatever shall I wear?!? waaah! My life is SO rough!" (For the record, I love- LOVE- The Smiths.)
What is so damaging to your ego to notice me first? I take a personal affront to such behavior, because, let's be real here: I am a curly-haired, loudmouth, Asian girl in a social sea of cute blondes and predominantly white girls. For me to not recall you right away- well, it's sad, but I can't tell the difference; you all look the same to me. So sometimes I can't remember who is who- but at least I TRY. But for YOU to not recognize ME?!?! Come ON. Who are we kidding here? At LEAST mistake me for some OTHER Asian girl you've met...that happens all the time to my Asian girlfriends. (It's really good for my rep, as my AG's are of impeccable beauty, quality and grace.) Plus, I go out of my way to get to know people. All the time. So the next time someone I've reached out to more than a few times pretends to not know me, I'm gonna punch him in the head. Maybe that will jog his memory.
Trust me. Ignoring people you know is not cool. I can promise you this right now: You are not cool. I'd say most of us are not. We're what- adults who live with roommates and socialize according to church-sponsored activities? Yeah. Hate to break it to you- we're dorks. In fact, it's those who manufacture themselves into popularity that are usually the LEAST cool, since they clearly have no interest in the rest of the world outside of themselves and those they choose to acknowledge. Kind of like the captain of the high school football team who goes to college and get's shaved because everyone can see his glory day ways make him a total douchebag, or the homecoming queen who thought she'd get by on her looks and reputation and grows up to be an overweight receptionist at a go-nowhere job. These people never bothered to develop skills, because they thought glorifying themselves would be enough. It isn't. To pretend like you don't know someone does not give you an air of popularity. It does not make you charming. You will not get away with pretending to be coy. You will look like an arrogant pig. And when I'm done with you, you'll just look like an idiot who got hit by a girl.
As you all return from you lovely vacations, I'd be interested to hear about your social misinteractions with those who think they're too-cool-for-school. Better yet if you can give names, so we may all shun them in future gatherings. SHUN!
With all this buzz over the Hunk O'The Month election, I've got all KINDS of tinglies over voting! Yaaay, for Democracy! (This is a spin- looks like anybody's game now! Polls close Friday at midnight! Vote with Reckless Abandon!)
There is a great difference between being rude and being honest. There is a vast difference between being negative and being realistic.
I prefer the latter. Maybe it's because I'm simple-minded. Maybe it's because I'm from the East Coast. Maybe I'm just too lazy to bother with pretenses. Either way, I find it important to distinguish between these attributes.
People always tell me they think East Coasters are rude. And I respond, "We're not being rude- we're just being honest." I think I have to justify this a lot because I've been living in the Western states for over half my life now, and over here, people think nothing of smiling and saying, "let's hang out sometime!" but then never calling. Or girls who give out their phone number, but won't answer when he calls because, well- she was never interested anyway. Even worse is that these girls will usually tell all their friends with a squeal of not-so-secret delight, "I don't know why he keeps calling me!" Please. This isn't being nice. It's self-serving, smug, and disrespectful. THAT is not nice. I don't think an East-Coaster would ever bother saying, "let's do lunch," if they didn't actually mean to make plans. Now is that rude? Or (ultimately) is that simply being considerate? Because why waste time or energy on either side by saying what you don't mean?
In the other room, I hear people boo-ing Simon Cowell for his honest critique and constructive criticism. "That's not nice. Boo!!!" Spare me. In the real world, you don't get constructive criticism in auditions. In fact, if you're not good, you'll be lucky to finish your performance. No feedback. No props. No, "dawgs." Simon may not be nice, but he is honest. And he is fair. I would rather be surrounded by people who are genuine than people who look through me with a vacant smile.
Today a friend of mine laughed and said, "I'm sorry; I feel like I'm just being negative and bitter!" The fact is, she is neither. She is being honest and realistic. And I value what she has to say because I know it comes from a place of wisdom and maturity. And her opinions are not bitter at all! They are hilarious observations about people and life and culture- and we all know that it's funny 'coz it's TRUE.
It's the friends who are sharp enough to cut through the fluff and the fat to get to the core of things that we end up really valuing. Their honesty makes them real. And it makes our friendship real through trust and mutual respect. None of that patronizing niceness that dissolves at the sign of trouble in this relationship! These are the people in your life you can trust. You will be able to rely upon them in your darkest hour. And in the meantime, you can enjoy good friends who appreciate your intelligence and value your trust and who will make you laugh through all the rest.
To all of YOU. Thanks. You're radtastic and I love you. And I know that you know that I mean it. And this one's for you:
This competition is hardcore heating up. And we thought Andy had this one in the bag...Did anyone think The Nice Guy and Every Girl's Best Friend would ever beat out a Rock Star or a Pretty Boy? Polls close this Friday.
She aced a million tests in the 99%. Kicked her presentation to the max. And did it all while holding down a full-time job, taking care of her friends and looking fabulous all the way home. Plus, when she sings Meatloaf, you REALLY believe her.
I'm not spoiling anything for those of you who tivo this crap- but... Did anyone else think Bevan was going to go ape if she didn't get a ring last night? Because while his family said, "she has beautiful eyes" and "she is crazy about you," I think girlfriend be straight crazy in her eyes.
ps- Shout out to Rhyll, who is wearing her birthday suit this morning- freshly cleaned and pressed.
Home Sweet Home. I grew up on my grandparent's farm, and every time I go home, it somehow surprises me how backwoods it is in Cape Cod. And I always wish I had friends along with me to show them how great it can be growing up in the country. This is me on the flight. The eyemask was, I'm sure, appreciated by all my seatmates I passed out on while in transit. This, combined with the medication I was on for my vertigo, probably made me extremely charming. There are certain things you'll see on your way to Weir Road. And it always gets me a little more excited to round a corner and see: The pond across the street from our house where we used to catch shiners and follow eagles into the woods; the small river that creeps to the horsefarm below our land, Crab Creek- you can walk around the corner with some chicken skins in an onionbag tied up with a line of twine, drop it into the creek, and bring home something for lunch. The dirt road we live on has since been paved, but you can still see the one-car trails we were familar with while growing up. When we get to the Grew's cranberry bog, I always give a little sigh of rememberance. Jumping off the sand-dunes, running after stray chickens and goats, building forts in the woods with our 4-wheelers, making chicken-coops for the bunnies we'd catch...and of course, the joy of cranberry farming.
As you can see, we still have road-side stands where you can get your vegatables, berrybaskets, wildflowers, and farm fresh eggs. (Some of them are even blue and green!) Next is the Heather Hale House you'll see on the way to my grandparent's. It was purchased and remodeled and really nicely fixed up a couple of years ago, but my entire youth was spent fearing the Heather Hale House and it's ghostly inhabitants. We used to catch rabbits out beside the house in the grapevines, but that's the closest I would ever dare to go. I still think someone should write a spooky story about The Heather Hale House, because...well- next to Boo Radley, don't you think it just SOUNDS creepy?
Above is the small property my grampa would tend during the year. The family that owns it is a long line of aristocratic sorts who can afford to be artists. They are very nice. And their house breeds mice. I am utterly fascinated by these stone walls- in Cape Cod, we don't use morter or cement. It's traditionally a family trade to fit stones together to create rockwalls. I love them.
And below we have the front door to our house- it has not been used since the early 80's, but my grandmoterh would always hang a pretty wreath on it anyway, so that the house would look nice for people on the street.
The windows looking out from our kitchen into the garden. I always thought this was such a magical view. Gramma and I like to watch the birds from here as we do dishes.
Some of those farm-fresh eggs from across the street. The neighbour brought them over when she'd heard grampa had passed. There were a dozen assorted eggs- some tan and freckled, mostly brown, some large and some small. I was delighted with the pale turquise ones with freckles. They were delicious.
We don't have central heat or a conventional stove or running water or electricity most times, so our days and nights are spent circled around our wood-burning stove. Everything gets cooked on this bad-boy, and most of the day revolves around stoking the fire and bringing in more wood from grampa's woodpile. Mom and I spent a day wandering around the local beaches and walking out on the stone jetty by our old house on South Sea Avenue (where she grew up).
And finally, I bring home my loved one to meet the family. Gramma said she didn't approve, but isn't that just to be expected?
The winner will be posted and adored and fawned over via Blogg. Not to mention he will become the most desirable bachelor ON THE PLANET. Choose wisely. And use the comment section to endorse your favourite candidate. Or. You know. Mudsling. Because a little dirt never hurts.
So I'm driving along one Saturday afternoon, enjoying KCRW's latest program on The Ten Commandments and wishing I had someone in the car beside me so we could discuss it. Relevant illustrations included "Thou shalt not kill," an interview with an Army chaplin/sargent, and some 7th graders on coveting- as in, how can anyone NOT covet iPod? (You're asking me!?!) Which is (for some of us) equal to coveting another's spouse. But knowing it is breaking a commandment to covet, we still aspire to achieve certain material goods or obtaining a certain improved status in life. My favourite story is the one interviewing teens. One girl with a huge "Nadie N David" scrawled the length of her forearm describes her relationship with "David." Apparently, she dated him and then broke up with him because he would "talk $#!%" about her, but they got back together because, well, because that's what love is. (Even though her friend insists the rumors about Dave were true, and that "you can't know real love until you're 16.") Just then- DURING THE INTERVIEW- well, now...Who's that with the girl wrapped around his arm? DAVID?!?! You can't make this stuff up. It's AWESOME. So how do we "progress," without coveting? And what is there to achieve if we cannot envy? How do we avoid "lusting in our hearts," and is that even realistic? Are any of these commandments realistic- or are we all destined to break them on some level or another? Look at the pictures, read The Bible, and let me know how it helps your Sunday School discussions.
For future reference and more details on Commandments, you may want to refer to The Bible. And here's my new favourite version of The Bible, because I like the illustrations. And if you want to hear the program...well. I think you'll just have to come over to my house, because I can't figure out how to post it. But I've listened to this episode 5 times so far, and I still get a kick out of the boy with God's name, the shame brought to father's name, and especially that one about iPod.
It all started with the Pinata...but there is so much more I have to say.
Thank goodness for the good people who create shirts that express my social, political, and dating status, so as to eliminate the need for coy talk, or quaint questions geared toward getting to know me better. This way, you know I want you to "Kiss Me, I'm Irish," that "I've Sold My Soul To Rock N' Roll," and "I'm Now Accepting Telephone Numbers," "I date college boys" (a shirt made for teens which was funny when I first graduated college, but is even funnier now that I'm 30), and everyone can know how I love Wonder Woman so much I would plaster her image across my bosom.
Thanks for the anonymous tip, Anonymous. I owe you.
Excercise your right to vote. Or to paaaarty. Whatever.
Hunk O'The Month nominations are closing this Friday- the top nominees will go to polls so we can vote and then adore the proper man of the month.
As for the Holiday Hunny concept- Memorial Day? Victoria Day? What was I thinking? Plus, I know so many fantastic women I admire- We can totally simplify this. Woman of the Week. Tell us about the woman who just made your week a little bit better, a little bit brighter, a little more exciting. What woman went out of her way to make you feel special this week? In this world where women feel they are constantly compared or in competition, would it be so bad to admire and appreciate those women who are going out of their way to make others feel good? Tell us who she is and what she did lately that made you go, "Wow. Am I lucky to know HER."
We'll have a new Woman of the Week profile posted every Monday so the guys have enough time to ask her out for that weekend. You're welcome.
Well. We've had lots of requests from our Shameless Men to have a way to praise the ladies, so here we go: HOLIDAY HUNNIES. For each month, we will choose a Holiday Hunny to represent each calendar. It's May right now, so we could ask you to elect your favourite friend-mother. Or, perhaps your favourite Canadian (for Victoria Day). Fave Jewess for Shavuot Day? GOT IT! Spring Break is celebrated in the UK on May 28th. Choose your favourite spring breaker gal to represent May. Bonus if she has something to do with England. Aaaand...GO.
PS- If this is what you look like, you are not allowed to complain about lacking a tan because you are GORGEOUS.
Today I had a mild fantasy that Jake Gyllenhaal came to visit. Therefore the kitchen had to be clean. In real life, maybe I am a teenage girl.*
I watched and re-watched this on Tivo at least a dozen times, although I told the producer of his new movie, "Zodiac" that I only rewound it 4 or 5 times. Can you blame me? He's dreamy...
"If, for some reason, you could... wanna be with me heart and soul, I'll be waiting for you at 5pm outside Chucky Cheese."
- The Good Girl
*To illustrate this entry, maybe I did a search for Jake pictures. Maybe I just completed downloading at leaste 4 or 5 of them... Go ahead and mock. But no one will be laughing when I'm serving him tea in my spotless kitchen.
And speaking of dreamboats, don't forget to add your vote to Hunk O'The Month. We have some serious contenders here, and a lot of them don't even know they're being elected! If you know one of our Hunks, let them know that we love them!!!
You may think you know me. But you don't know everything. I have something to say. Something I've known deep inside me for a long, long time. Inside this slammin' body of a short Asian girl- I am a gay man. CONFESSION: I love showtunes. I spontaniously break into song and truly think it would be really great if life were like a musical. I've fallen in love on the dance floor. I honestly believe that blue eyeshadow will never go out of style, and when it comes to hair, bigger IS better. Diana Ross is amazing. If I had ridiculous gobs of money to drop on something frivilous, it'd probably be a toss-up between getting hair extensions and season tickets to Broadway and Off-Broadway and I fantasize daily on one day performing Off-Off-Broadway. James Dean and Jake Gyllenhaal are dreamboats. And while I never saw "Brokeback," if I were ever going to suggest two men for on-screen romance, Jake and Heath are excellent choices. Madonna is a personal hero. Just about any outfit I own will have one or more of the following contents: feathers, snakeskin, animal print, velvet, sequins or gold. Or look like a costume piece. And I think I would look better if I were dripping in jewels. I am in love with this man: And I'd rather dance than talk with you.
Sometimes I see them and they make me think that all my troubles would be solved between eHarmony and Lunesta.
And if I were using Valtrex, that must mean I am in a long-term, committed relationship where we go sailing, ride horses, mountainbike, and take amazing vacations together.
As I am a believer in positive reinforcement, let us use my new friend, Blogg, to brag about our favourite bachelors. I want a brief description of why you think he's the Hunk O' The Month. He can be your neighbour, your brother, your cousin, your roommate, your best friend- just make sure he's single and tell us why he's fantastic. Winner at each month's end will be posted, adored and fawned over on Blogg.
Aaaand- GO.This entry will be an ongoing feature, so check back and add your votes frequently! ** Don't you worry, Gentlemen. You will get your turn. For now, you can make note of the features our Ladies find o-so alluring and use them to your advantage. Unless you're Brendan, in which case, you can vote, too.
As many of you know, my grandfather passed away last month. As the family contemplated his life, my cousin Justin said, "Grampa really had no vices." We all thought about his statement. And it was true. He never drank or smoked, or said anything crude to anyone. He was never lewd or careless or unkind. Over the rest of our weekend together, his wife, children and grandchildren could recollect a time when Grampa raised a hand, or even his voice at any one of us. The only time we could say Grampa ever coming close to yelling were times that either to warn us or to protect us. And even then, I don't think anyone who grew up with him had it happen more than once.
My grandfather is an inspiration in so many ways. An incredible example of Christlike life and love for all mankind. A man of wisdom and gentleness and humor. A man who took the time to make each person he met feel that they were important enough to stop for. A man who could be depended upon and trusted, regardless of your relationship with him. How incredible would this world be if we had more men with no vices!
In this wake of "He Said/She Said" and "Mars vs Venus" and "Man-bashing," etc, I would really like to honour those men who are good men. Those men who we appreciate and enjoy and trust. I would like to thank the men in my life who have been my brothers and my example; the men who have set the standard for how I should expect to be treated as a woman and as a child of God.
To those men who are good, but have not found the courage to really DO good- I want you to know that we need you. The world needs you to stand up and protect those around you- whether or not they appear to need safeguarding. We need you to stand up and stop those people who are inappropriate or reckless with others. We want you to do what is right, and show us that there ARE good men in this world. Your goodness brings us hope. It renews our faith. And it inspires the people around you to be better.
Be good. And be strong. The difference you make, matters.
The Relief Society Lesson on Sunday was so fantastic, I had so many thoughts, but kept quiet because the lesson was so well done. Still, I'd like to share with my sisters the feelings I've had on this subject matter.
It's true that we are surrounded by toxic matters: insecurity, comparisons, jealousy, envy, self-esteem challanges, etc. What we need to remember as women is that we are our own support network. We cannot allow Satan to get us down about ourselves (I mean, who the hell is HE anyway?) By helping each other out, and bypassing the negatives we may feel, we strengthen our own sisterhood; we strengthen ourselves.
It's easy, I think, to see those in need of support,and it is clear that they need our help, but especially in this era of superficiality, it takes more insight to conciously reach out to those who are not in such obvious need. I had a dear friend in college, a roommate, sit alone on Friday nights because no one ever called her. She was beautiful, but in addition to that, she was the most kind, generous, and thoughtful person I have ever had the honor of knowing. She confided in me that, until I lived with her, she always sat alone at church because no one offered to sit by her. She hated Relief Society because it was so painfully obvious she was alone. She was in that ward for four years! I was appalled that such a wonderful person could be so ignored. And then it occoured to me: Everyone else thought she was okay. Everyone else thought she was pretty and fun and so she must certainly have a lot of friends! andboyfriends. In fact, she did have a boyfriend in another state who did not treat her very well. She cried often. Besides me, she had one other friend who was married, and rarely around. Guys were not interested in her because they knew she was dating someone, and girls, well, I could never quite explain how she had consistently been passed over when she could have been surrounded by girlfriends.
There's a book I love, and I know I've told you to buy it before, but I'll tell you all again; it's called, "Kiss My Tiara." It is sassy and hilarious and very useful. It's all about being a woman and being okay with being everything that a woman is. Along with that is the idea that it's OKAY to have a woman's body, that it is much more beautiful a shape than any hungry-looking model who may as well be a 12 year old boy in some Calvin Klein ad. One of my favourite songs is "Video Girl" by India Arie. Every time I listen to it, I want to run out and give the words to the Relief Society and make all of us recite it at the top of our lungs. "I'm not the average girl in the videos. My worth is not determined by the price of my clothes. No matter what I'm wearing I will always be, India Arie." She goes on about looking in the mirror, "And I know my Creator don't make no mistakes on me-every freckle on my face is where it's supposed to be...my hips, my thighs, my lips, my eyes, I'm loving what I see!"
Do you know that 3 out of 4 women has an eating disorder at some point in her life? That's horrible! I could not fathom that statistic, so I began asking my college roommates, friends, and neighbors. Sure enough, I was the ONLY woman I knew who had never been on a diet, and that statistic (in regards to eating disorders) was disturbingly true. It is not just about body image. It is about the striving for perfection and trying to control yourself in an uncontrollable world. It is not so much about being thin as feeling a need for perfection. There is an amazing lecture given by Elder Russell M Nelson over ten years ago- that the commandment to "be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father in Heaven is perfect" is not so much about flawless perfection, but about enduring to the end and finishing this life through the resurrection. But that definition came out years ago, and look at us. We're still hungry!
So what to do? What to do? For one, we could start talking to one another. And I don't mean that mopey comparison-type talking; I mean honest-to-goodness "let's be generous with complimenting each other" talking. I give all kinds of props to the woman wearing that, "O no she di'nt!" outfit-because no matter what she may look like to me, she is clearly proud of herself. And why shouldn't we all strut around like that? We are strong and we are healthy. That, in and of itself, is something to be happy about. And it never hurts to notice someone else's goodness, either. Asking someone about hair products is one thing; being able to appreciate them for their humor, intelligence, kindness- well, those are reasons you'd actually want to keep talking with her and have her over for dinner next Sunday. As for taking care of ourselves, I recently discovered a key that must have been helping me along subconciously this whole time. I am a huge Neo-classic/Renaissance Art fan. You know those pictures of the big, beautiful, glowing women? Get those up on your walls! Tear down Kate Moss (bless her heart) and start loving the curve of your belly, the strength of your thighs, and the shape of your body! We're beautiful! And with the right lighting, We're ART!!! And if you can't appreciate yourself for yourself, remember this: What we say to ourselves in the mirror, our daughters will be repeating as well. I trust that none of us wants to hear an eight year old proclaim they need to diet, but over 40% of them do. Please. For the sake of your daughters. Be kind to yourselves.
Respect yourselves. Besides, Satan would love to have power over you. He doesn't deserve it. Don't give him that. Every time you stand up for yourself, you strike him down. And it always feels good to kick a little @%*.
People never know who I'm talking about when I say that I would give an appendage to see "The Beautiful South" live. They have been my favourite band since I found their cassette when I was 15. They were my first CD, and they were the first played on my beloved iPod. sigh. Sweet memories.
Anway. YouTube has found my delightfully lyrical and sort of weird humoured band, and I couldn't be happier.
Also- The new Spider Man movie is coming out this weekend, and I'm so excited I think I may be an 11 year-old boy! The production of this video is pretty good, the acting is mediocre, the characters and costumes are fairly accurate, but there are some majorly incohesive scenes in the plotline. Then again, if Snow Patrol were playing for my kid's recital, I'd show up and clap, too.
Awesome. Getting to see Fraggle Rock was like a super-duper treat.
