Last night I went to see the Afghan Whigs in concert. I've probably talked about them a million times in here, but in case you didn't pick up on it, AW are a top 3 band of my life, up there with Ween and A Tribe Called Quest (I don't count the obvious choices like Beatles, Stones, MJ or Prince because, well, they're obvious). They broke up more than a decade ago, and while I got to see them once, maybe twice before the split, and I've seen their frontman Greg Dulli on like 50 more occasions with his side projects (more on him in a moment), this reunion tour was really something special to me. I'm so happy I got to go.
It was the perfect, perfect show. I know it's lame that some clubs have weeknight curfews (the show had to be over by 11), but I'm lame now because I'm old and tired all the time, so it worked out just swell. I got to enjoy a tight hour an a half of my favorite music--performed with exquisite craft and passion and energy--and get home before my bedtime. To me, the Whigs have never sounded better. I couldn't stop moving or get the smile off my face for the whole show, and it wasn't just nostalgia. They just really stand the test of time.
Fun fact: there are people who go to concerts and never move, not even bob their heads. I don't understand these people. There were a lot of them there last night. I guess I can't all the way blame them, because it was a "mature" crowd, but I am genuinely baffled that the capability to resist moving to the music exists. Especially when you have one of the greatest, sexiest, smart-assiest showmen in the business performing up there. A word about Mr. Dulli, lead singer/guitarist of the Afghan Whigs, if I may. He is my most enduring celebrity crush. I have adored him since I was a teenager, and both he and I have gone through a lot of changes in our lives and appearances and whatnot, but I've never wavered in my ridiculous fangirl devotion. Even when he looked like he could have been John Goodman's stand-in for the Flintstones movie, if I had had the chance to meet him, I would have had a Bieber-esque meltdown. That said, he has done something to himself, be it Crossfit, the Wheatbelly diet, crystal meth, whatever - It. Is. Working. He looks fantastic, not just in shape but healthy and really psyched to be playing. And the playing! All my favorites, like "Going to Town" and "Miles iz Dead" and "Fountain and Fairfax." And the overall caliber of the performance was high enough so that someone like Mike, who enjoys a few of their songs but doesn't know or love them as much as I do, could get into it. And we also ran into a friend there who had never heard the Whigs until that day, when he agreed to go to the show with his girlfriend, and immediately became an AW zealot. GAH music is so awesome. Here's hoping I get to another show before long... though I'm not sure what could hold a candle to this one.
They finished up the encore with "Faded", which is my definition of epic. This clip isn't from last night's show, but it's close enough.
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
An Outlaw For Your Love
Today we are in the midst of serious and solemn holiday in the Jewish faith, a day of atonement, of sacrifice and taking stock. I've previously addressed that I am not Jewish and not actually religious in any way, but I have a deep respect for tradition, and I make my own meaning from traditions all over the religious spectrum. I can see why the idea of giving up things for Lent is a good idea, for example. I don't usually do so, but I appreciate the mindfulness behind it. The same goes for Yom Kippur. Reflection and making amends don't have to (and shouldn't) be limited to one day a year of course, but if it takes one day to remind us to do so, I've got no problem with it.
And so if I have wronged you, ever, for the smallest thing, I am sincerely sorry. I don't think that this absolves me from deep and specific hurts I've caused--saying a blanket "sorry" doesn't take the place of one-to-one communication, nor do I think it serves as a pass to knowingly be a jerk (the whole "do what you want and give it up to God later" aspect of some religious sects is a major turnoff for me). But I'm taking my chance here to expose my everyday frailty. I don't think I'm anything like a perfect person, and I think it's a good idea to publicly state that every once in awhile, since all I do in here is write about me and the things I think and feel and endorse. As with every year, I want to also commit to being a kinder, more patient and thoughtful person in the coming year. A better friend, partner, mother, daughter, sister. Some years it works out better than others, but every year's another chance to make up for the past and set a strong foundation for the future. And love and love and love.
Now the only regret I associate with this song is that I'll never hear Alex Chilton sing it live.
And so if I have wronged you, ever, for the smallest thing, I am sincerely sorry. I don't think that this absolves me from deep and specific hurts I've caused--saying a blanket "sorry" doesn't take the place of one-to-one communication, nor do I think it serves as a pass to knowingly be a jerk (the whole "do what you want and give it up to God later" aspect of some religious sects is a major turnoff for me). But I'm taking my chance here to expose my everyday frailty. I don't think I'm anything like a perfect person, and I think it's a good idea to publicly state that every once in awhile, since all I do in here is write about me and the things I think and feel and endorse. As with every year, I want to also commit to being a kinder, more patient and thoughtful person in the coming year. A better friend, partner, mother, daughter, sister. Some years it works out better than others, but every year's another chance to make up for the past and set a strong foundation for the future. And love and love and love.
Now the only regret I associate with this song is that I'll never hear Alex Chilton sing it live.
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
What It Is
Oh productive mornings I love you! Here's to an afternoon that's half as productive. But first: let's talk about bodies. This entry will serve as my Body Update. As in, remember way back when I set a goal to be in awesome comfortable-in-a-bikini shape by the time we took our fall beach vacation? And how is that working out for me, exactly?
The answer is, as I sit here just over a month out from the trip, pretty great. But not in the way I was initially thinking. I mean, I feel like I'm in good shape because I work out often, and I'm getting results in that I can run faster and for longer and the addition of strength training has really made an impact. But to look at me 1) you wouldn't think I looked any different; 2) I probably don't look any different; 3) without drastically changing my lifestyle I'll never look any different and 4) who cares? Not you, for sure. And not me, I've decided. I decided this a long time ago in general, before being pregnant changed my whole physical being, and I got caught up in my personal challenge. It was fun, it was a lark, and it occurred to me right around the time I hit the beach this summer that there was no use in waiting to debut my new bikinis. So I wore them all summer as a work in progress, and nobody died of it. This is the great part. The reminder of that old revelation that I'm only as happy with myself as I let myself be, so why not be as happy as possible? If I want to wear a suit I like, just do it and do it without apology. I'm not going to stop eating well and working out-- that's integral to my mental health more than anything (though that can't be completely extricated from the physical - one influences the other). I'm not going to stop my indulgences, either. And I'm going to wear my two-piece bathing suits that don't entirely hide my lower abdomen fat roll (thanks, HR!) and if anyone has a problem with it, I'm not going to let it transfer over to being my problem.
I have a healthy self image - I'm not trying to make it out like I'm being oh so brave or humblebrag so you'll tell me I'm hot. It's not like I harbor dysmorphia at a level that exceeds that of the average person. Sure I have my moments of doubt, but at the heart of it, I'm what I am and I'm cool with that. And I just wanted to be Jessica Biel for a moment there, but aw nards, there's already a Jessica Biel. And she gets paid a lot to be that. So, here's me and the one body I get. I'm not going to provide photographic proof here or anything. That's not the point. These are just the (not entirely) unexpected results of my goal. New goal: how to make the vacation simultaneously get here tomorrow, and then last forever.
I jest a little about that last part because, though I am thrilled beyond measure of the idea of unlimited sleep and a sustained period of only being responsible for me, I can't even comprehend what it's going to be like to be away from my kid for a whole week. A couple of days doesn't phase me anymore, but a week is a new frontier. It's going to happen, and it's going to be worth it, but it is weighing on my mind. Not in a guilt feeling way, just in an attachment way, and in an omigod-how-to-explain-to-him-we-didn't-abandon-him way. Weeks fly by, for better and for worse.
Tell it, gentlemen.
The answer is, as I sit here just over a month out from the trip, pretty great. But not in the way I was initially thinking. I mean, I feel like I'm in good shape because I work out often, and I'm getting results in that I can run faster and for longer and the addition of strength training has really made an impact. But to look at me 1) you wouldn't think I looked any different; 2) I probably don't look any different; 3) without drastically changing my lifestyle I'll never look any different and 4) who cares? Not you, for sure. And not me, I've decided. I decided this a long time ago in general, before being pregnant changed my whole physical being, and I got caught up in my personal challenge. It was fun, it was a lark, and it occurred to me right around the time I hit the beach this summer that there was no use in waiting to debut my new bikinis. So I wore them all summer as a work in progress, and nobody died of it. This is the great part. The reminder of that old revelation that I'm only as happy with myself as I let myself be, so why not be as happy as possible? If I want to wear a suit I like, just do it and do it without apology. I'm not going to stop eating well and working out-- that's integral to my mental health more than anything (though that can't be completely extricated from the physical - one influences the other). I'm not going to stop my indulgences, either. And I'm going to wear my two-piece bathing suits that don't entirely hide my lower abdomen fat roll (thanks, HR!) and if anyone has a problem with it, I'm not going to let it transfer over to being my problem.
I have a healthy self image - I'm not trying to make it out like I'm being oh so brave or humblebrag so you'll tell me I'm hot. It's not like I harbor dysmorphia at a level that exceeds that of the average person. Sure I have my moments of doubt, but at the heart of it, I'm what I am and I'm cool with that. And I just wanted to be Jessica Biel for a moment there, but aw nards, there's already a Jessica Biel. And she gets paid a lot to be that. So, here's me and the one body I get. I'm not going to provide photographic proof here or anything. That's not the point. These are just the (not entirely) unexpected results of my goal. New goal: how to make the vacation simultaneously get here tomorrow, and then last forever.
I jest a little about that last part because, though I am thrilled beyond measure of the idea of unlimited sleep and a sustained period of only being responsible for me, I can't even comprehend what it's going to be like to be away from my kid for a whole week. A couple of days doesn't phase me anymore, but a week is a new frontier. It's going to happen, and it's going to be worth it, but it is weighing on my mind. Not in a guilt feeling way, just in an attachment way, and in an omigod-how-to-explain-to-him-we-didn't-abandon-him way. Weeks fly by, for better and for worse.
Tell it, gentlemen.
Monday, September 24, 2012
Soul Rotation
Looking back on the past week, it appears I've been on a negativity purge. Bitching is not my default activity. I don't enjoy it, and it doesn't normally come naturally to me. But I feel like everything that's bothering me about the world and then some has converged over my head in a short period of time. I really don't want to lose faith in humanity, I don't want to accept that things are what they are and there isn't much that can be done about an epidemic of discourteousness, lack of empathy, complete self-centeredness. But lately people are not making it easy, and the stranger who thoughtlessly threw her refuse from her car into my driveway while I watched, speechless, from my window, broke the whole thing open. If I had not been alone with my little boy I would have definitely stormed out and confronted her. Not that it would have done any good, but passivity certainly wasn't the answer. I couldn't drag HR out to witness that, though. So I let it pass. And it ate away at me all day.
Then I went to the second birthday party of our dear friends' little boy and it helped me regain perspective. Seeing all those little ones playing together, being wild and also loving toward one another, it made me think, maybe we can change things. Maybe these little ones, the ones upon whom we might make an early impression, perhaps lead by example -- they are the answer. The hope. Also, so damn cute. I mean really, toddlers in moustaches - tape this up in the war room and every nuke factory is immediately shut down, am I right?
That goodness, combined with the perfect fall weather, the lovely adult company and the beer and the cake and other deliciousness, helped get me back to myself. There's lots that still sucks. But there's also lots that doesn't, and that's what I choose to nurture. That's my compass.
(Caption for all these photos: stuff that doesn't suck.)
Oh yeah, and you might also notice the lack of hair on one Mr. HR. We had his first haircut on Saturday, he did quite well and seems to be totally cool with the new 'do. It was bittersweet for me, because he's looking so grown now, but also so handsome. His resemblance to my brother at that age is off the charts. If I haven't previously made it clear, I am a fan of my brother so this is a fine thing. We all just hope the resemblance ends when it's orthodontia time (no offense, Uncle Nick!).
So I guess I'm on the upswing. Big and small things will always bother me. But I'll deal as best I can. And when in doubt: Bowie.
Then I went to the second birthday party of our dear friends' little boy and it helped me regain perspective. Seeing all those little ones playing together, being wild and also loving toward one another, it made me think, maybe we can change things. Maybe these little ones, the ones upon whom we might make an early impression, perhaps lead by example -- they are the answer. The hope. Also, so damn cute. I mean really, toddlers in moustaches - tape this up in the war room and every nuke factory is immediately shut down, am I right?
That goodness, combined with the perfect fall weather, the lovely adult company and the beer and the cake and other deliciousness, helped get me back to myself. There's lots that still sucks. But there's also lots that doesn't, and that's what I choose to nurture. That's my compass.
(Caption for all these photos: stuff that doesn't suck.)
Oh yeah, and you might also notice the lack of hair on one Mr. HR. We had his first haircut on Saturday, he did quite well and seems to be totally cool with the new 'do. It was bittersweet for me, because he's looking so grown now, but also so handsome. His resemblance to my brother at that age is off the charts. If I haven't previously made it clear, I am a fan of my brother so this is a fine thing. We all just hope the resemblance ends when it's orthodontia time (no offense, Uncle Nick!).
So I guess I'm on the upswing. Big and small things will always bother me. But I'll deal as best I can. And when in doubt: Bowie.
Thursday, September 20, 2012
Secret Weapon
A meeting had me out of the office for most of the day yesterday so I'm down in it playing catch-up. Probably for the best anyway, as I am not a font of thoughtful/interesting writing topics today. Er, lately. Errr, best not extend that line of thinking.
Oh but you are in luck still! Because I am an inexhaustible font of one thing, and that thing is early '90s rap. My gift for you right this second is an amazing gem of my girlhood that I just know you'll enjoy. Man if only I had an unlimited hats and dangly earrings budget, I'd be Monie Love for (everyday) Halloween this year. What a l'il badass.
Oh but you are in luck still! Because I am an inexhaustible font of one thing, and that thing is early '90s rap. My gift for you right this second is an amazing gem of my girlhood that I just know you'll enjoy. Man if only I had an unlimited hats and dangly earrings budget, I'd be Monie Love for (everyday) Halloween this year. What a l'il badass.
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Thank You, Mr. Tweedy
Yay, I am so thrilled at the outcome of "So You Think You Can Dance." Yay, Eliana and Chehon! The new group numbers were wonderful, and my only critique was that they should have skipped the lame musical guest (so did not miss those this season) and given more time to show the winners' celebration. I liked how the top 4 got to re-dance their favorites (I pegged each choice, because I'm awesome like that, not because they were obvious standout performances or anything) and the only surprise was that they didn't re-stage the Eliana/Ryan Quickstep. Ah, it was so good to see George and Will and Amelia back on the stage. And now I'll have to find something else to talk about once a week, or, you know, not talk at all.
Halfway through, I thought I might just escape the curse this year, but no, September is staging its annual suckfest in my life. Things are mostly well, Mike and the boy and all family are great, but when there's ever bad news, this is when it comes, and it keeps coming. Again, don't worry about me, I'm not trying to be vague or get you to ask me what's wrong. It's not about that. It's just that September is awful and can't be over soon enough and that's all you need to know.
And sometimes The Month That Shall Not Be Named is hot on your tail and you've got tears in your eyes on your drive home and suddenly October is in your sights.
Halfway through, I thought I might just escape the curse this year, but no, September is staging its annual suckfest in my life. Things are mostly well, Mike and the boy and all family are great, but when there's ever bad news, this is when it comes, and it keeps coming. Again, don't worry about me, I'm not trying to be vague or get you to ask me what's wrong. It's not about that. It's just that September is awful and can't be over soon enough and that's all you need to know.
And sometimes The Month That Shall Not Be Named is hot on your tail and you've got tears in your eyes on your drive home and suddenly October is in your sights.
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Tuesday Ten
Lazy List Lady strikes again! Here are ten things currently delighting the hell out of me.
1) This should come as no surprise as I am a hardcore musical nerd, but HR's latest enthusiasm for singing and dancing (despite his newly formed aversion to actually listening to music) is my favorite thing. His "hot dog dance" cribbed from "Mickey Mouse Clubhouse" is nothing short of toddler-sublime, and hearing him sing in that sweet little voice gets me right in the heart. I especially love when he's playing by himself and absentmindedly breaks into song. That's how I realized he had memorized the cheeky inside-joke lyrics to the "Ballad of Mike" we sang in the family talent show this summer. Oops! But also, so great (note to those who were there - he really nails the high note on "forty-twooooo!"). That boy is Broadway bound, obviously.
2) Matthew Mitcham - how did this young gentleman fail to capture my notice? I am more of a Winter Olympics enthusiast than a Summer one, but I find it hard to believe that this gorgeous, out-and-totally-chill-about-it Australian swimmer wasn't plastered onto my radar until I saw him on an unrelated show last night. I'm not saying I spent my precious time watching "Be Good Johnny Weir" or anthying, but I didn't not watch it. Seriously though, I am a new fan of this dude.
3) The cooler nights and mornings - next stop, sweater weather. Time to yank out the AC units and plug in the crock pot. Yes, child.
4) Maine Memes - I don't do the twitter, but I follow them on facebook, and though I'm sure I'll be as sick of them in a couple of days as I tend to be of all memes, so many of them hit home. You do actually have to have lived in Maine at some point to get the joke.
5) Frank Ocean - I've been fascinated by this singer for awhile now, and seeing him on SNL this weekend sealed the deal. He reminds me in some ways of Maxwell when he kicks into falsetto mode, but then he has this whole other thing going on. And headbands. Never underestimate the power of a headband on a bald guy.
6) While I'm on the subject of SNL, I haven't watched it much in recent years, but I was able to keep my old arse awake for the season premiere and I realize not only that I really dig Bobby Moynihan, but that I tend to favor, with the exception of Horatio Sanz maybe, the portlier cast members. From John Belushi to Chris Farley, I guess it's the fearlessness that powers their performances that really works for me. Of course I love Bill Murray and Amy Poehler and Jason Sudeikis and such, but I have a soft spot for the chubby comedians. Bobby is killing it for the moment. And even though there's no way it's going to work out, I'm really rooting for him and Marnie on Girls.
7) It's Octoberfest beer taahhhhhmmmm!
8) I'm going on for reals grownup vacation in less than two months!
9) SYTYCD Finale tonight!
10) Finally, it's not new, but I want to give props to this composition, one of the greatest songs in musical history, in the role originated by the incomparable Murray Head.
1) This should come as no surprise as I am a hardcore musical nerd, but HR's latest enthusiasm for singing and dancing (despite his newly formed aversion to actually listening to music) is my favorite thing. His "hot dog dance" cribbed from "Mickey Mouse Clubhouse" is nothing short of toddler-sublime, and hearing him sing in that sweet little voice gets me right in the heart. I especially love when he's playing by himself and absentmindedly breaks into song. That's how I realized he had memorized the cheeky inside-joke lyrics to the "Ballad of Mike" we sang in the family talent show this summer. Oops! But also, so great (note to those who were there - he really nails the high note on "forty-twooooo!"). That boy is Broadway bound, obviously.
2) Matthew Mitcham - how did this young gentleman fail to capture my notice? I am more of a Winter Olympics enthusiast than a Summer one, but I find it hard to believe that this gorgeous, out-and-totally-chill-about-it Australian swimmer wasn't plastered onto my radar until I saw him on an unrelated show last night. I'm not saying I spent my precious time watching "Be Good Johnny Weir" or anthying, but I didn't not watch it. Seriously though, I am a new fan of this dude.
3) The cooler nights and mornings - next stop, sweater weather. Time to yank out the AC units and plug in the crock pot. Yes, child.
4) Maine Memes - I don't do the twitter, but I follow them on facebook, and though I'm sure I'll be as sick of them in a couple of days as I tend to be of all memes, so many of them hit home. You do actually have to have lived in Maine at some point to get the joke.
5) Frank Ocean - I've been fascinated by this singer for awhile now, and seeing him on SNL this weekend sealed the deal. He reminds me in some ways of Maxwell when he kicks into falsetto mode, but then he has this whole other thing going on. And headbands. Never underestimate the power of a headband on a bald guy.
6) While I'm on the subject of SNL, I haven't watched it much in recent years, but I was able to keep my old arse awake for the season premiere and I realize not only that I really dig Bobby Moynihan, but that I tend to favor, with the exception of Horatio Sanz maybe, the portlier cast members. From John Belushi to Chris Farley, I guess it's the fearlessness that powers their performances that really works for me. Of course I love Bill Murray and Amy Poehler and Jason Sudeikis and such, but I have a soft spot for the chubby comedians. Bobby is killing it for the moment. And even though there's no way it's going to work out, I'm really rooting for him and Marnie on Girls.
7) It's Octoberfest beer taahhhhhmmmm!
8) I'm going on for reals grownup vacation in less than two months!
9) SYTYCD Finale tonight!
10) Finally, it's not new, but I want to give props to this composition, one of the greatest songs in musical history, in the role originated by the incomparable Murray Head.
Monday, September 17, 2012
L'ST
Last night we celebrated Rosh Hashanah with some of Mike's family, it was a small gathering, but really nice. I love this celebratory holiday that typically falls in a time of transition. Its nice to feast with loved ones just for its own sake, but the tradition of getting together with an emphasis on focusing on what's good in our lives, that's especially meaningful to me. This was HR's third Jewish New Year, and the first for which he was at the table for (most of) the meal. He was much more interested in playing with his cousins' dinosaur collection than sitting and eating, but I can't really blame him for that. It honestly seems like yesterday that my big-boy nephews were attending in high chairs and Mike and I would go home afterward and sometimes go back out to a bar or whatever. Time, you crazy jackass. I love how we've all grown and changed, but it really does happen incredibly fast. It's why I do my best to not miss any get together on either side of the family. We have to sometimes of course, and it only gets crazier as more little people get added, but it's the kind of crazy I intend to foster. I don't look at any celebration with people I love as an obligation. Not everything is all, "Oh yay I can't wait to go to this ___!" but in the scheme of things, I've only ever regretted what I've missed. And while I do harbor regrets in my life and know I'm not done making new ones, I'm doing my best to minimize them. That's my intention for every year, but this is the first I've decided to publicly state it.
Good family, good food, good, sweet wishes and feelings to you all, even if you're not celebrating a New Year. You can't have the good without The Sweet!
Good family, good food, good, sweet wishes and feelings to you all, even if you're not celebrating a New Year. You can't have the good without The Sweet!
Thursday, September 13, 2012
It's Come To This
Oh, GURL this has been a day. Not a bad day, just another bowl o' Cuckoo Banana Nuts poured from the giant box that is my workplace. It's a good job, and even when it's crazy I like it because I love my coworkers. But people, man. Just when you think there's no longer a situation that could come up and surprise you, something emerges that goes beyond. And then beyond a little more.
But never mind all that, you'll all be psyched to know that I took my lunch hour today to finally go out and top up my meager bra collection. I have added exactly one bra to the roster since my child was born, and the ones from before were not exactly doing the job any more so basically I've been rocking one bra all the time, with lots of weekend cheating with sports bras. They're comfy, but not the most flattering, so it was just time to increase my options. I do hold the belief that a proper support garment is priceless, but damn why you gotta be so expensive? Since I buy these guys so infrequently, I really do it right, going to the old lady store and getting fitted and doing a lot of hemming and hawing before making my choice. Every trip takes longer than it took me to do the entire wedding gown process, and also cost more (keep in mind I did not make my wedding gown the central expense of the affair, but still). In the end, the comfort and price tags are worth it for me. But though I have always been psyched about being a woman, I still occasionally resent the built-in costs of doing certain things the way I want to do them. I accept them, I mean, I could choose to cut corners and ooze from the cups or flop about all the time or have to go back and buy new holding devices at twice the frequency for lack of quality. But I go the way I go, even though it's probably my fault that we won't be able to send HR to an Ivy League college. The world needs ditchdiggers, too, kiddo.
Yes, this may be one of the most "first world problem" things I've ever written, but I think a lot of women can relate. In conclusion, BOOBS.
But never mind all that, you'll all be psyched to know that I took my lunch hour today to finally go out and top up my meager bra collection. I have added exactly one bra to the roster since my child was born, and the ones from before were not exactly doing the job any more so basically I've been rocking one bra all the time, with lots of weekend cheating with sports bras. They're comfy, but not the most flattering, so it was just time to increase my options. I do hold the belief that a proper support garment is priceless, but damn why you gotta be so expensive? Since I buy these guys so infrequently, I really do it right, going to the old lady store and getting fitted and doing a lot of hemming and hawing before making my choice. Every trip takes longer than it took me to do the entire wedding gown process, and also cost more (keep in mind I did not make my wedding gown the central expense of the affair, but still). In the end, the comfort and price tags are worth it for me. But though I have always been psyched about being a woman, I still occasionally resent the built-in costs of doing certain things the way I want to do them. I accept them, I mean, I could choose to cut corners and ooze from the cups or flop about all the time or have to go back and buy new holding devices at twice the frequency for lack of quality. But I go the way I go, even though it's probably my fault that we won't be able to send HR to an Ivy League college. The world needs ditchdiggers, too, kiddo.
Yes, this may be one of the most "first world problem" things I've ever written, but I think a lot of women can relate. In conclusion, BOOBS.
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
I (Heart) You But I Choose Dubstep
OK dance peeps - what did you think of the performance finale last night? I loved every second, that was THE episode to see of the season, if you had to watch only one. Eliana is probably the best dancer they have ever had on the show, she just nails the crap out of every single thing, and I'm not sure why I didn't lock in on Chehon from the get-go. He's totally endeared himself to me. Tiffany, look, I'm happy for her. But she doesn't have a shot to win. If she does, well, egg on my face and high fives for her tiny little hands. Cyrus, though I'm going to side with that bastard Nigel in favoring Chehon for the win, I'm so proud of you, buddy, and your routine with Twitch was the routine of the night, if not the season. It's a lock to be reprised next week. Eliana better be hitting the energy bars, because based on the sheer number of memorable routines she starred in, she's gonna be a busy girl in next week's show. Top program, I will miss it when it's over.
I just have more thing to address, and it's HOLY BALLS WELCOME BACK WILL in the All-Star corner. Will! Remember this dude? I guess I really wasn't painting the past with a golden brush when I was nearly able to let Will slip from my memory. Season 4 was indeed a banner year when Joshua was my it-boy from his audition, but there was also Twitch (who really just got more amazing with time) and Katee and Courtney G. and Gev (their rhumba was the best I've ever seen) and Mark and Chelsie. There have been outstanding performers and performances that make every year worth it, but that was my all time favorite season. But for season 9, I'd say it wrapped up pretty swell.
Oh, dancing, on the heels of an emotionally raw day, you once again proved to be a balm for my soul.
I will leave you with this bit of mighty brilliance, and then watch it ten more times myself. (Side note: is District 78 on the show's payroll? They might as well go ahead and make them the exclusive music for all their songs that are featured).
I just have more thing to address, and it's HOLY BALLS WELCOME BACK WILL in the All-Star corner. Will! Remember this dude? I guess I really wasn't painting the past with a golden brush when I was nearly able to let Will slip from my memory. Season 4 was indeed a banner year when Joshua was my it-boy from his audition, but there was also Twitch (who really just got more amazing with time) and Katee and Courtney G. and Gev (their rhumba was the best I've ever seen) and Mark and Chelsie. There have been outstanding performers and performances that make every year worth it, but that was my all time favorite season. But for season 9, I'd say it wrapped up pretty swell.
Oh, dancing, on the heels of an emotionally raw day, you once again proved to be a balm for my soul.
I will leave you with this bit of mighty brilliance, and then watch it ten more times myself. (Side note: is District 78 on the show's payroll? They might as well go ahead and make them the exclusive music for all their songs that are featured).
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
That's All I Know
Every day, a reminder: life is precious. Life is fragile. Life is pretty fantastic. Life is short, and there are no guarantees. It doesn't have to make sense, and the concept of fairness doesn't apply.
It's important to show the people you love that you love them, always. Just eat that piece of cake, already. Wear the shoes you've been saving for a special occasion. I promise I'm not trying to tell you what to do, I'm just rooted way down in my humanity today, for several reasons, and it makes me especially reflective and aware that nothing can be taken for granted.
Hugs and love and the healing power of music.
It's important to show the people you love that you love them, always. Just eat that piece of cake, already. Wear the shoes you've been saving for a special occasion. I promise I'm not trying to tell you what to do, I'm just rooted way down in my humanity today, for several reasons, and it makes me especially reflective and aware that nothing can be taken for granted.
Hugs and love and the healing power of music.
Monday, September 10, 2012
In The Air
Yesterday HR and I were hanging out at home and he was playing with his guys while I was putzing around and apropos of nothing, he said, "Mama, so happy see you at home!"
Me: I'm happy to be here with you, honey.
HR: How you doin'?
Me: I'm great. How are you?
HR: Good.
So I guess we can check off the "initiating conversation" box in the milestone checklist. Sometimes I can tell exactly how or from where he's picked up certain things, sometimes it's a bit of a head scratcher (I don't think he's ever seen an episode of Friends, but somehow he's got the Joey Tribbiani down cold). In any case, this stage is great fun. He was a terrific pill his morning, but so far the wonderful parts of being nearly 2 and a half (I KNOW) are outweighing the challenging.
The weekend was overall quite chill. We had a fun, delicious family brunch and a bit of outdoor time and I watched Beginners with an unbelievably good Christopher Plummer which I highly, highly recommend (even though I oddly didn't shed a tear). And now it's football season, which coincides with my favorite time of the year even though I don't care about football itself. I like all the accoutrements, such as nachos and beer and touchdown dances and tailgate parties and the ever crisping of the weather. I do care heaps about baseball still, though you wouldn't know about it. I just can't bring myself to write about the Sox. Obviously we've had a lot of tough times with these guys, but this season has been the most consistently disheartening. Ride it out, guys, and here's to a fresh start in 2013.
And now I sit here facing, what, a full work week? It's been so long since I've had one of those, I just don't know if I'm up for it anymore. But I'll put on my game face and give it a go.
Me: I'm happy to be here with you, honey.
HR: How you doin'?
Me: I'm great. How are you?
HR: Good.
So I guess we can check off the "initiating conversation" box in the milestone checklist. Sometimes I can tell exactly how or from where he's picked up certain things, sometimes it's a bit of a head scratcher (I don't think he's ever seen an episode of Friends, but somehow he's got the Joey Tribbiani down cold). In any case, this stage is great fun. He was a terrific pill his morning, but so far the wonderful parts of being nearly 2 and a half (I KNOW) are outweighing the challenging.
The weekend was overall quite chill. We had a fun, delicious family brunch and a bit of outdoor time and I watched Beginners with an unbelievably good Christopher Plummer which I highly, highly recommend (even though I oddly didn't shed a tear). And now it's football season, which coincides with my favorite time of the year even though I don't care about football itself. I like all the accoutrements, such as nachos and beer and touchdown dances and tailgate parties and the ever crisping of the weather. I do care heaps about baseball still, though you wouldn't know about it. I just can't bring myself to write about the Sox. Obviously we've had a lot of tough times with these guys, but this season has been the most consistently disheartening. Ride it out, guys, and here's to a fresh start in 2013.
And now I sit here facing, what, a full work week? It's been so long since I've had one of those, I just don't know if I'm up for it anymore. But I'll put on my game face and give it a go.
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Only Two More Recaps Left...
I will refrain from lapsing into total Clinton fangirl mode, but his speech at the DNC last night set me all a-swoon with hope and inspiration. To be clear, everything I feel for the former President is rooted in admiration of his many accomplishments, not the kind of admiration that would cause me to construct a frisbee of my underpants to be launched in his direction. This is solely a brain-crush. The man is brilliant, and if nothing else (and I personally think he's a lot else, but to elaborate would mean cutting into my precious dance show recap time) a truly gifted speaker.
But, like, way more important to the history of the universe is how I feel about a mediocre season of a dance competition. It's gonna get full-on erudite here, so best move on if you don't watch So You Think You Can Dance. You can skip on to the videos, attaboy. Ahem. So. As Season 9 draws to a close, I have to say it has not been my fave go-round. The top 20 had so much potential, but even though I have dancers I'm rooting for and some routines I liked, I haven't experienced much of that thrill, that intangible something that a really elevated routine provokes in me (often in tears form, der). It still makes me happier than 95% of current programming because these kids are tal-en-ted, it's just that the memories of former contestants are a bitch to try and top.
Last night the top 4 were announced, that's big stuff, meaning the finale is next week and there will be two winners. I don't have a problem with Cyrus being in the top 4 because even though he's not a great overall dancer, enough people liked him to vote for him, so in his way he earned his spot. I am, however, hoping that Chehon wins on the gentleman side. I always knew he was fantastic in his style, but he didn't really connect for me until a couple of weeks ago when he did a surprisingly good job with hip-hop, then last week's ridiculous solo and that insane Argentine Tango. I was all, "get yours, you tights wearing son-of-a-kooky-Swiss-couple." As an aside does his life story not kill you a little bit? What an amazing family.
And Eliana has been my favorite since auditions - she is one of the best dancers I've ever seen, hands down, so I'm happy and not shocked to see her go almost all the way. But Tiffany, she has been the stealth contestant for me. I never doubted she was a great dancer, but like I said, they're all great. She just didn't stand out. And here she is. Good on her. I'm looking forward to seeing how it all shakes out, and there's a performance show next week so there's a chance something could really move me.
Bullet points from last night's show:
-my favorite guest judge is a tie between Jesse Tyler Ferguson and Neil Patrick Harris (I don't count my beloved Adam Shankman as a guest, he's a dance pro), but Christina Applegate is getting up there for me. She nearly knows what she's talking about, and she's funny. Plus, she is gorgeous. I'll have what she's having.
-I like Cole, I'm OK with him going, but I have to say that last night was his night, performance wise. He was on top of his game, that werewolf solo was something I've never seen.
-I'm not seven feet tall and made of spun sugar and sunshine so I could never pull it off, but I loved Cat Deely's extremely crazy dress.
-Holy Jacked Benji Schwimmer! He looked so good, from a physically in-shape standpoint but also from some kind of inner light. He's always been a joy to watch, but I truly think coming out did wonders for him.
-The Cyrus/Comfort dubstep was off the hook. The drop! I learn so much from this show.
-Am I the only one who found Tyce's piece overrated (not a knock on the dancers, it just didn't move me)?
-Um, the proliferation of Hammer pants guys? Are we doing this again?
-I don't like to end on a WTF note when I have so much positive to say about the show, but can we please stop the whole "Sorry, Dad!" infantilizing thread when the female (only, ever, female) dancers are called upon to be sexy? These are women who want to be professional dancers, playing a role. That's their job. They should not be apologizing or making sure everyone knows they're not demonsluts. I'm not even going to kick the hornet's nest of gender disparity or how the whole father/daughter purity guardian dynamic makes me insane. Just, you know, you're doing your job and be a woman about it, even if you're just 18. Own it. The end.
Can't wait to see what awaits next week, for real.
All right, onto the unrelated music portion. Today I was torn between linking Squeeze and Husker Du, but then I remembered that posting these videos costs me nothing (thanks youtube, and artists), so why not both?
You are all welcome.
But, like, way more important to the history of the universe is how I feel about a mediocre season of a dance competition. It's gonna get full-on erudite here, so best move on if you don't watch So You Think You Can Dance. You can skip on to the videos, attaboy. Ahem. So. As Season 9 draws to a close, I have to say it has not been my fave go-round. The top 20 had so much potential, but even though I have dancers I'm rooting for and some routines I liked, I haven't experienced much of that thrill, that intangible something that a really elevated routine provokes in me (often in tears form, der). It still makes me happier than 95% of current programming because these kids are tal-en-ted, it's just that the memories of former contestants are a bitch to try and top.
Last night the top 4 were announced, that's big stuff, meaning the finale is next week and there will be two winners. I don't have a problem with Cyrus being in the top 4 because even though he's not a great overall dancer, enough people liked him to vote for him, so in his way he earned his spot. I am, however, hoping that Chehon wins on the gentleman side. I always knew he was fantastic in his style, but he didn't really connect for me until a couple of weeks ago when he did a surprisingly good job with hip-hop, then last week's ridiculous solo and that insane Argentine Tango. I was all, "get yours, you tights wearing son-of-a-kooky-Swiss-couple." As an aside does his life story not kill you a little bit? What an amazing family.
And Eliana has been my favorite since auditions - she is one of the best dancers I've ever seen, hands down, so I'm happy and not shocked to see her go almost all the way. But Tiffany, she has been the stealth contestant for me. I never doubted she was a great dancer, but like I said, they're all great. She just didn't stand out. And here she is. Good on her. I'm looking forward to seeing how it all shakes out, and there's a performance show next week so there's a chance something could really move me.
Bullet points from last night's show:
-my favorite guest judge is a tie between Jesse Tyler Ferguson and Neil Patrick Harris (I don't count my beloved Adam Shankman as a guest, he's a dance pro), but Christina Applegate is getting up there for me. She nearly knows what she's talking about, and she's funny. Plus, she is gorgeous. I'll have what she's having.
-I like Cole, I'm OK with him going, but I have to say that last night was his night, performance wise. He was on top of his game, that werewolf solo was something I've never seen.
-I'm not seven feet tall and made of spun sugar and sunshine so I could never pull it off, but I loved Cat Deely's extremely crazy dress.
-Holy Jacked Benji Schwimmer! He looked so good, from a physically in-shape standpoint but also from some kind of inner light. He's always been a joy to watch, but I truly think coming out did wonders for him.
-The Cyrus/Comfort dubstep was off the hook. The drop! I learn so much from this show.
-Am I the only one who found Tyce's piece overrated (not a knock on the dancers, it just didn't move me)?
-Um, the proliferation of Hammer pants guys? Are we doing this again?
-I don't like to end on a WTF note when I have so much positive to say about the show, but can we please stop the whole "Sorry, Dad!" infantilizing thread when the female (only, ever, female) dancers are called upon to be sexy? These are women who want to be professional dancers, playing a role. That's their job. They should not be apologizing or making sure everyone knows they're not demonsluts. I'm not even going to kick the hornet's nest of gender disparity or how the whole father/daughter purity guardian dynamic makes me insane. Just, you know, you're doing your job and be a woman about it, even if you're just 18. Own it. The end.
Can't wait to see what awaits next week, for real.
All right, onto the unrelated music portion. Today I was torn between linking Squeeze and Husker Du, but then I remembered that posting these videos costs me nothing (thanks youtube, and artists), so why not both?
You are all welcome.
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
The Politics One
I avoid talking about politics a lot of the time. Not because I don't care, not because I'm not interested or invested, but because I don't like confrontation. Also because deep down I don't believe that anyone can ever really change anyone's mind about things. I'm not in the business of persuasion. I myself am not a politician and have no desire to be. Sure debate and robust argument can be exhilarating, but for the most part, for me, it's too difficult to avoid the personal.
Especially in this election year where anger and ugliness increase by the day, I don't want to go there. We're all jaded and fed up and resort to hiding certain people's facebook feeds just because we want to keep liking them as people and it's hard when there are such heartfelt fundamental differences. I am not exempt, I'm sure I've pissed people off without even realizing it, and yeah, I want things to be pleasant all the time. But I am a political person, and I want my boy to grow up in a world where it's OK to feel things deeply and passionately and express them. Not in anger, not with stubborn certainly, just with pride and conviction.
I am an idealist, which is why I'm a registered independent. But, living in the world and not fantasy land (Massachusetts is pretty close, though), I'm also a realist. I have to vote for someone, and, if you know me at all, my voting record is not a huge shocker. I have always identified as a liberal with no shame. And I am a woman and a mother and a wife and a daughter and sister and friend. I don't think any of this makes me special or unique or deserving of elevated status. I just believe I should be the one in charge of me.
When it comes down to it, that is what being liberal means to me. I just don't care about what other people do (insofar as they are not hurting other people). I don't care who you love, or who you marry, only that your right to do so is protected. I can't see myself ever having an abortion, but I don't care if you have one for any reason. I do care about protecting its legality and the right to have one in a safe environment, and of course to prevent pregnancy in the first place. All babies should be wanted, period. I emphatically believe that you should be able to practice your religion, any religion, I just believe the bible should have nothing to do with governance outside of the church or temple or mosque or individual homes. I am staunchly in favor of reason and intellectualism and science, those things are important to me.
Of course I care about the economy and jobs and taxes and foreign policy, just as I care about health care and education. And I do not believe that one person can save us all. The thing is, at the very center of it, though I do obviously lean a certain way, I don't care who you vote for. It's not my business. I do admit to caring that people DO vote - only because what's the point of being proud of America and its freedoms and democratic society if you do not participate in democracy? I know the two party system is extremely flawed, and it's hard to get behind anyone when everything's so corrupt, and it feels like your vote doesn't count. But if every person thought that way, where would we be? That bothers me a lot, but again, it's not my business. It's your right to not participate.
I acknowledge that what I've written here is deeply polarizing and that people I love very much will not agree to my stances but just as I care for them and respect their views, I hope that they will do the same for me. I can't say I won't have outbursts here and there either in this blog or other outlets, but it felt good to say my peace in a calm and rational manner.
Tomorrow, back to my usual frippery. Probably.
Especially in this election year where anger and ugliness increase by the day, I don't want to go there. We're all jaded and fed up and resort to hiding certain people's facebook feeds just because we want to keep liking them as people and it's hard when there are such heartfelt fundamental differences. I am not exempt, I'm sure I've pissed people off without even realizing it, and yeah, I want things to be pleasant all the time. But I am a political person, and I want my boy to grow up in a world where it's OK to feel things deeply and passionately and express them. Not in anger, not with stubborn certainly, just with pride and conviction.
I am an idealist, which is why I'm a registered independent. But, living in the world and not fantasy land (Massachusetts is pretty close, though), I'm also a realist. I have to vote for someone, and, if you know me at all, my voting record is not a huge shocker. I have always identified as a liberal with no shame. And I am a woman and a mother and a wife and a daughter and sister and friend. I don't think any of this makes me special or unique or deserving of elevated status. I just believe I should be the one in charge of me.
When it comes down to it, that is what being liberal means to me. I just don't care about what other people do (insofar as they are not hurting other people). I don't care who you love, or who you marry, only that your right to do so is protected. I can't see myself ever having an abortion, but I don't care if you have one for any reason. I do care about protecting its legality and the right to have one in a safe environment, and of course to prevent pregnancy in the first place. All babies should be wanted, period. I emphatically believe that you should be able to practice your religion, any religion, I just believe the bible should have nothing to do with governance outside of the church or temple or mosque or individual homes. I am staunchly in favor of reason and intellectualism and science, those things are important to me.
Of course I care about the economy and jobs and taxes and foreign policy, just as I care about health care and education. And I do not believe that one person can save us all. The thing is, at the very center of it, though I do obviously lean a certain way, I don't care who you vote for. It's not my business. I do admit to caring that people DO vote - only because what's the point of being proud of America and its freedoms and democratic society if you do not participate in democracy? I know the two party system is extremely flawed, and it's hard to get behind anyone when everything's so corrupt, and it feels like your vote doesn't count. But if every person thought that way, where would we be? That bothers me a lot, but again, it's not my business. It's your right to not participate.
I acknowledge that what I've written here is deeply polarizing and that people I love very much will not agree to my stances but just as I care for them and respect their views, I hope that they will do the same for me. I can't say I won't have outbursts here and there either in this blog or other outlets, but it felt good to say my peace in a calm and rational manner.
Tomorrow, back to my usual frippery. Probably.
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
Oh Boo Hoo
My long weekend was nice, thanks for asking. Just unremarkably... nice. And pretty relaxing. Great for life-living reasons, but not the stuff of which compelling blog posts are made. Fear not, I did foray into cultural relevance territory by watching one movie that was released in the past year and finishing a really excellent new book.
The movie in question: Hunger Games. I'm ever more sorry that I missed it--despite my best efforts--when it was in theaters. Though movies can rarely do books justice in any case, I thought this struck a nice balance of presenting violence without sensationalizing it and getting to the dark heart of Suzanne Collins's masterful book. Of course the complexities of the Panem universe couldn't be given sufficient airtime, and I wonder what someone who hadn't read the books took from what was presented. Jennifer Lawrence was great, though she really was too old to be cast as Katniss. And Lenny Kravitz and Stanley Tucci: can we all agree to make sure they're in all the movies from here on out? I cried a bit too, and the tears felt earned. And that's my review. Looking forward to the adaptation of Catching Fire.
The book I finished was Monica Wood's memoir, When We Were The Kennedys. Full disclosure: even though I have read several of Wood's fiction titles, it's unlikely this book would have caught my attention had it not been set in the area where I grew up. Most of the action in the book occurred a decade and then some before my birth, but it was still essentially the same place (though the industrial decline and already begun), the same feel. And I loved it for that, the nostalgia, the names I recognized, places I had been. The author's oldest sister, one of the central figures in the narrative, was my beloved French teacher through all four years of high school. I admit I felt a bit of a voyeur to read about her on such intimate terms. But there was so much more to it. Simply put, this book broke my heart. I sobbed so hard at the end, at the epilogue.... When I tell you this, I mean it as an absolute endorsement. It was such an uncommonly beautiful human story, and of course I'm thrilled that someone with such talent came from where I came from. Anyway, I thought it was quite an accomplishment, and I think it would be really interesting to talk about it with someone who went into it with no prior connection to the setting.
Apparently my internal ratings system is based on whether or not something made me cry. But know that I don't count just any tears: for example, I uphold I Am Sam as the most wretched movie that made me cry and even as I was crying I was pissed off because I felt so manipulated. It wasn't art to me, just a preposterous situation designed to get people at their heart-gut. Condescending. Genuine, earned tears are a different story, they take a really deft hand to bring forward, and crying as reaction probably shouldn't be the artist's primary intention. I'd say that out of four hankies, The Kennedys was a three-hankie read. Yes it dealt with some very sad subject matter, but it wasn't really the obviously sad things that hit me the hardest.
In an attempt to keep up with a theme, this is probably the best song ever recorded with the word "cry" in the title. OK, maybe second after "When Doves Cry." But more people should know about Solomon Burke, so here you go.
The movie in question: Hunger Games. I'm ever more sorry that I missed it--despite my best efforts--when it was in theaters. Though movies can rarely do books justice in any case, I thought this struck a nice balance of presenting violence without sensationalizing it and getting to the dark heart of Suzanne Collins's masterful book. Of course the complexities of the Panem universe couldn't be given sufficient airtime, and I wonder what someone who hadn't read the books took from what was presented. Jennifer Lawrence was great, though she really was too old to be cast as Katniss. And Lenny Kravitz and Stanley Tucci: can we all agree to make sure they're in all the movies from here on out? I cried a bit too, and the tears felt earned. And that's my review. Looking forward to the adaptation of Catching Fire.
The book I finished was Monica Wood's memoir, When We Were The Kennedys. Full disclosure: even though I have read several of Wood's fiction titles, it's unlikely this book would have caught my attention had it not been set in the area where I grew up. Most of the action in the book occurred a decade and then some before my birth, but it was still essentially the same place (though the industrial decline and already begun), the same feel. And I loved it for that, the nostalgia, the names I recognized, places I had been. The author's oldest sister, one of the central figures in the narrative, was my beloved French teacher through all four years of high school. I admit I felt a bit of a voyeur to read about her on such intimate terms. But there was so much more to it. Simply put, this book broke my heart. I sobbed so hard at the end, at the epilogue.... When I tell you this, I mean it as an absolute endorsement. It was such an uncommonly beautiful human story, and of course I'm thrilled that someone with such talent came from where I came from. Anyway, I thought it was quite an accomplishment, and I think it would be really interesting to talk about it with someone who went into it with no prior connection to the setting.
Apparently my internal ratings system is based on whether or not something made me cry. But know that I don't count just any tears: for example, I uphold I Am Sam as the most wretched movie that made me cry and even as I was crying I was pissed off because I felt so manipulated. It wasn't art to me, just a preposterous situation designed to get people at their heart-gut. Condescending. Genuine, earned tears are a different story, they take a really deft hand to bring forward, and crying as reaction probably shouldn't be the artist's primary intention. I'd say that out of four hankies, The Kennedys was a three-hankie read. Yes it dealt with some very sad subject matter, but it wasn't really the obviously sad things that hit me the hardest.
In an attempt to keep up with a theme, this is probably the best song ever recorded with the word "cry" in the title. OK, maybe second after "When Doves Cry." But more people should know about Solomon Burke, so here you go.
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