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Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Bad to the Tone

Any 17-year-old emo high schooler with an asymmetrical haircut and angsty poetry scribbled in Sharpie on their Converses will tell you how powerful music is and how Saosin really communicates their pain. How much “pain” you have when you’re living in suburbia and your parents bought you a brand new Ford Focus for your birthday is beyond me, but that’s neither here nor there. What I’m getting at is, people like to connect to music, and will find any nuance in a song to cling to because, really, how else are we going to know how to feel if Adele doesn’t belt it out for us? We empathize with these songs because they strike a certain personal cord and we see a direct, realistic correlation between the lyrics and our everyday lives.

Then again, some songs are just absurd.

I can imagine myself acting out the lyrics to the Eagles’ “Hotel California,” Nelly’s “Hot in Herre,” and Christina Aguilera’s “Genie in a Bottle” without much negative consequence, simply because these songs have a plausible storyline. Other songs, regardless of catchiness and overall sing-a-long-ability, are just too ridiculous to pass the test of probability. The connection between how the song sounds and what the song says is extremely important, and while the songs below are addictive musically, lyrically…dat shit cray. Let me know if you agree that if these songs were actually lived up to, the effect would be completely different than what was intended.   

Aaliyah’s “Come Over” – Aaliyah is easily one of my favorite artists of all time, and I’m not just saying that to seem sensitive and compassionate because she’s dead. Ridiculous voice, incredible songs, love her love her love her. “Are You That Somebody” and “We Need a Resolution” are classics and are jam-worthy any second of the day. Unfortunately, I get a little distracted when listening to “Can I Come Over.” It’s just…creepy. For the record, I’ve never actually used this tactic to see someone, mostly because people usually ask me to come hang out before I’d ever have to invite myself (I’m irresistible, what can I say). But stepping off a plane and immediately calling someone, begging to bang them is not sexy or enticing or even justifiable – it’s desperate. This is the theme song for every clingy girl that’s ever walked the planet and doesn’t get the hint that a guy may find having sexual intercourse with them to be a pleasurable experience but only at his convenience. Two in the morning? You’re just “wantin’ to hold [him], embrace [him], want to guide [him],” etc. etc.? Child please. Even if he does agree to let you stop by, he’s totally going to pretend to be asleep the next morning until you show yourself out. Have a little self-respect and demonstrate some assertiveness by jumping off that plane and demanding that he meet you at your house. Until then, maintain some dignity and just drive home.   

Maroon 5’s “Wake Up Call” – There probably isn’t any worse feeling than walking in on your significant other doing the dirty with someone that isn’t you. I wouldn’t know, because when people done do me wrong, they typically have the courtesy to be extremely sneaky about it and I don’t find out until three months after the fact. Chivalry isn’t dead! While I can admit that I’ve wondered how I would react under such circumstances, my talent for saying extremely offensive things when pissed off would be about as violent and hurtful as I’d get. In short, I could never shoot a person. If I could, I definitely wouldn’t waste the bullet on the “innocent” party in the whole sexcapade. Why on earth is Adam Levine wasting his time on the manwhore his girlfriend is boning on the side when he should be offing her? She knew what [and who] she was[n’t] doing! It’s like when a guy cheats on a girl and the girlfriend gets mad at the guy but then spreads terrible rumors about the girl, too. Sure, she may have been a slut, but that skanky ho-bag could be completely unaware of what she was a part of. It’s better to spend your time (and your ammo) on the asshole who was intentionally trying to have his cake and eat it too. Really, Adam, you had to shoot him dead? Even if he didn’t die, he sure as hell “won’t come around here anymore” because his bootycall’s boyfriend is a Yosemite Sam lunatic! Either quietly walk out of the room and break up with her via text message or walk out of the room and into the arms of the girl you’ve secretly been hooking up with for two months. Win-win!

Taylor Swift’s “You Belong with Me” – There are few artists that bother me more than Taylor Swift. There are several reasons for this, best summarized by her appearance in Valentine’s Day, as well as my long withstanding belief that the reason she had no friends or boyfriends in high school was not because people were jealous of her fame, but because she was a fucking psycho. I am 97% positive that whatever poor male soul this song was written about would rather deal with an irrational girlfriend getting mad at him for calling fifteen minutes later when he said he’d call her in ten than Ms. Swift’s propensity toward falsely believing every boy she ever looked at was her soulmate. You’re listening to the type of music his girlfriend doesn’t like? Was it Tim McGraw? Not everyone’s a country fan, don’t be so close-minded. She goes on to say that she knows all of his favorite songs so clearly the friendship the two share is based largely off of music, and while that’s all fine and good, it takes a little more than a mutual appreciation for shitty guitar playing for love to occur. This song was written and released before Taylor had her borderline-statutory-rapelationship with John Mayer, so it’s safe to assume that she was dealing largely with the 17-and-under set. With that in mind, was it really that shocking that a high school boy would prefer a girl in a short skirt as opposed to a girl in a huge t-shirt? Honestly girl, even if he did see something in you, he’s dating the captain of the cheerleading squad, and no high school boy in his right mind is going to pass up that opportunity. Bow out gracefully before you pen another “masterpiece” about a guy that you won’t be able to look in the face for at least three years.

Blu Cantrell’s “Hit ‘Em Up Style” – This song has lawsuit written all over it. Anybody knows that I despise cheating and normally would advise serious retaliation against the guilty party, but only in a tell-every-girl-you-know-that-he-was-a-terrible-kisser kind of way. Racking up a hefty credit card bill while restocking your closet sounds fun in theory, but there’s probably no easier way to end up on Judge Judy than to fraudulently max out your (now ex-) boyfriend’s Visa. The added-on tagline of “(Oops!)” that goes along with this song does nothing to make me see Blu’s behavior as warranted; this was no accident. The fact that Soley and Mia didn’t try to talk some rationality into their friend before she sells everything the man owns is just downright irresponsible and I would really hope that they would face charges as well. Furthermore, Blu mentions that she “paid all the bills about a month too late.” Uh, hate to break it to you sweetheart, but if you’re really trying to stick it to your man you wouldn’t have paid the bills at all and then your next hit could have been titled, “Here Comes the Repo Man to Take All My Ex’s Possessions.” If you’re going to screw the guy over, don’t half-ass the job. And it looks like you and your friends have the scheming theft thing all figured out; please don’t “Hey Ladies!” me into joining.

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Crazy Girl Saying Whattup Betchezz

What do you mean “who is this”??
You seriously don’t have my number memorized?
You seriously don’t have my number memorized.
It’s me, Crazy Girl.

Whatever. Anyway. How are youuu? OMG I’m good too! I had like such a great time on our date the other night, you are like so funny and hilarious and I talked my friends’ ears off about you for like twelve hours because ILOVEYOU I mean you’re really chill.
What do you mean it wasn’t a date? We met up with each other at the bar and you bought me a vodka soda splash of cran and you introduced me to your friend Jake and I shot super dirty looks at your best friend Kathleen all night because I’m positive that you guys are hooking up or have hooked up in the past. How does none of that strike you as being a date?

Whatever. Anyway. Did you like the voicemail I left you last night? What about the one after that? And the one after that? Isn’t it like so cute how we have inside jokes already and I remember them all and we can totally be ourselves around each other? I like just GET you, you know what I mean? And you totally get me. No one’s ever really gotten me before, except for my lowlife cocksucker embarrassment of an ex-boyfriend Mark who wanted “space” and said I never gave him “space” and got super pissed and filed for a restraining order against me after I gave him all the “space” he could ever want by throwing a nine iron through his front window. He’s a great guy though, I miss him. You don’t play golf do you? I’m just wondering.

Whatever. Anyway. It was like so sweet of you to give me a t-shirt and sweatpants to sleep in last night. I’m gonna sleep in them every night and never wash them because they smell like you and I like your smell and I want to know what cologne you use so I can spray it all over my pillow case in the off chance that you get “busy” one night and I can’t come over. Don’t worry, I know you’ve just got a lot going on and I wouldn’t ever think for a second that you might have another girl over or that she might be wearing your t-shirt and sweatpants. Other girls are sluts and really clingy but I’m like super cool and understanding and I would never freak out about something like tha- WHERE THE HELL DID THAT PINK CAMI ON YOUR FLOOR COME FROM?! No, it’s not mine. No, I’m positive. Are you serious? Like, are you serious. Seriously. This is totally not okay. Like, I understand if you didn’t understand what we “are” but I don’t give third chances so you better burn that like now before I’m out of your life forever. I can’t even look at you right now. So over this.

Whatever. Anyway. What are you doinggg? I’m bored. OMG you’re having a party tonight?! I can’t wait, I’ll totally be there! It’ll be so fun, I’m gonna walk in and out of your room like it’s mine and totally have a heart-to-heart with my friend Brooke with the door locked for like two hours and people can’t even get mad because I’m here all the time anyway so it’s basically my room too. I’m also going to joke around with your friends like we’re all old buddies and subtly flirt with them but only enough to get you jealous so I can confirm that you have some sort of feelings for me. Then I’m gonna black out and puke all over your bathroom except for in the actual toilet because I want to force you to stay behind and take care of me while all of your friends go to the bars. This is what true love is like, okay? Get used to it. Spoiler alert: in between heaves I’m going to tell you that this never happens to me and ask you if you love me because I love you. Luckily, I’ll have the excuse of being blacked out the next morning so I can deny it when I realize you don’t feel the same way about me (at all!) but DUH I totally meant it. Awkward silence…

Whatever. Anyway. We need to talk. No, I’m not doing this through text. No, I really think this is a conversation we should have sober. No, it’s totally fine that you’re hanging out with Jake right now just give me a call later and I’ll come over okay? Okay.



Okay it’s four days later why won’t you respond to me? I’ve left you like fourteen voicemails, thirty texts, and I even tweeted a quote from The Notebook hashtag “trueloveishardtofind,” which was OBVIOUSLY about you. And I saw you tweet a Kevin Hart quote AND updated your Facebook status from your phone so helloooo I’m not dumb, you totally could have called me back. I just want to know what we’re doing. Like are we talking? Together? Dating? FBO? FBO but it’s complicated? I just don’t want to waste my time, you know? Like I care about you a lot but there are plenty of fish in the sea and I could do so much better than you, no offense. So we’re nothing? You don’t want a girlfriend? You don’t want to get into anything too serious right now? No I totally understand. Yeah, I feel the same way. Just friends? Yeah, I agree 100%. I know, I am an awesome girl. Whatever. No big deal. I’m totally over it anyway, and I’ll be even more over it when I get wasted tonight and text you at 4am asking, “Wjat arew you uop too? Wnnana come ovrer? Misuss youuuuuuuu.”

What? No, I didn’t just drive by your house blaring Adele’s Someone Like You. I didn’t! …It was Alanis Morissette’s You Oughta Know, and so what if I did, it’s not like you care about me anyway! You’re immature and indecisive and my friends and I are going to talk shit about you for weeks! But in the off chance that you change your mind and want to get back together I never ever said anything bad about you and I think you’re a great guy.

Saturday, January 14, 2012

Adults on Facebook

There are certain things in life that just operate much more smoothly when rules are followed. A game of Monopoly, for instance. Or the whole “beer before liquor get drunk quicker” mantra. Adhering to the status quo just makes the world go round, and makes me personally feel a lot more at ease. For this reason, I take up serious issue with adults on Facebook.

Allow me to clarify a couple things. First, when I say “adults,” I don’t mean the legal definition of a person age 18 and older. Do you know how many idiotic, immature 18-year-olds there are out there? All of them. That is not an adult; that is permission to buy cigarettes without begging your friend’s older brother to get them for you. Secondly, don’t take me literally and assume I mean all adults. My dad has a Facebook and has probably used it twice. I don’t think he even knows his own password. It’s his middle-aged peers that abuse status updates and mobile uploads that really get under my skin. Clearly, I do not consider myself to be an adult. Why? Because I still laugh at the word “balls.”

We’ve all seen The Social Network and know that Facebook was invented so college kids could stalk each other and tag pictures of themselves that would severely hinder their chances of landing a respectable job after graduation. Why do my 45-year-old neighbors need one? Exactly, they don’t. Here’s why:

They comment on statuses with statements that have nothing to do with that status
“I heard people were dying over some sneakers.
I love shoes too but are you serious?”
~ “We had a good Xmas the kids all came home we missed you and your mom hope you had a good one – Anne.”
I’m sorry, but what on Earth does this response pertain to? The person was discussing the homicides over Jordans; I really doubt they have any sort of interest in your made-for-TV-movie holiday. If I wanted to receive your Christmas card to this person I would just rifle through their mail – I really don’t need blurbs about a stranger on my newsfeed. Side note: signing your name after anything you post on Facebook is irrelevant. This bothers me more than it should.

They give a play-by-play of their day
“It’s a chilly but beautiful day here in Chicago!
Ron and I have decided to go downtown
for a little Christmas change of pace.
We’ve never really explored the city and there
seem to be a lot of restaurants there.”
“Now eating at _____.
So many beautiful Christmas lights!
Walking around after dinner
to see some more.”
“Now we are driving to _____ to have a
drink or two somewhere!”
“_____ is so crazy! Now we’re going to _____ and to see _____ and whatever else we can find to do!”
“Just saw the _____ and going to _____ for
a little Christmas snack. It’s so fun here!”
…You done? Yeah. You’re done. Unsubscribe.

They’re about 10 years late on pop culture humor
“Hey everybody, come see how great I look!”
~ “I like scotch. Scotchity scotch scotch.”
You are not hip and clever for posting Anchorman quotes (albeit, incorrect ones) and having all of your friends follow suit with subsequent comments. We all know you just passed by the living room where your 22-year-old son was watching it on Netflix and happened to catch a scene. No one is impressed. Stick to what you know, like Bruce Springsteen and House Hunters marathons.

They thank people
“Thanks for posting a picture
of your beautiful family!”
“Thanks for the updates Cheryl, sounds
like you’re having a blast!”
“Thanks to this YouTube account holder for
compiling all of these photos and setting it to
music for my enjoyment!”
This is not a Golden Globes acceptance speech – you have no obligation to express gratitude to every single person you’ve ever met for every single thing they’ve ever done. I’m honored that your personal happiness is contingent on me posting ridiculous pictures of my dog, but I wasn’t expecting a “thank you,” and I will not respond when you give me one.

Adults joining Facebook was going to happen sooner or later, and I have to give all the old folks out there kudos for at least trying to stay in touch with one another while covertly stalking their children. But it has to be said – the majority of you are worse than a 12-year-old girl when it comes to status updates and sharing information that absolutely no one cares about, and you really need to cool it. Why do none of the aforementioned actions bother me when they’re performed by people my own age? Because my generation created Facebook, and we do what we want.

Sunday, January 1, 2012

Movies that Made Me

I’m not sure if it was just the easy way out or a stroke of parental genius on my mom’s part, but either way, movies occupied a lot of my time when I was little. Certain ones can still evoke a shriek of joy and cause me to delve into a million stories about what important life lessons so-and-so movie taught me; how I would reenact certain scenes in my living room; how I didn’t understand that the people weren’t actually living inside the TV; and how I was positive that every time I watched it, the story would somehow turn out differently (why didn’t Dorothy ever follow the red brick road? Where did it lead? This still perplexes me). While some movies were blips on the radar, there were five that I worshipped like a cinematic Buddha. Let us all thank them for turning me into the woman I am today. My quirks are about to make a lot more sense.

Beauty and the Beast: I watched this literally every day between the ages three and four. I can openly admit that at first I was just taken with the fact that Belle and I shared the same hair color, but I soon realized that this movie had a lot of advice to offer my impressionable self. Belle demonstrated how attractive girls can still be perceived as freaks of nature, therefore finding companionship in inanimate objects – a lesson in humility. The way she handled Gaston and all of his arrogance still serves me to this day, such as when 35-year-old Puerto Ricans come up to me at the bar and start violently grinding on me without an invitation, saying, “I want you! ¡Esta noche eres mío! Oh yesss…” Oh nooo, motherfucker, take your two-sizes-too-small t-shirt and questionable body odor and get away from me. At the very least, this movie conveyed the whole “Never judge a book by its cover” idea, which has taught me that I’m very judgmental and that certain life lessons should be taken with a grain of salt.  

Return of Jafar: In many ways, I am a boy. Anatomically, everything’s in its place, but there are certain aspects of my personality which are straight dude, and try as I might to remedy this situation sometime’s it’s best just not to fight the inevitable. One of my more bro-like habits is quoting movies. I’ve witnessed groups of guys have conversations almost entirely in Step Brothers quotes, and I’d be lying if I claimed not to contribute a quip or two of my own. This movie started all that for me. When my brother started to yell at me for not cleaning out the dishwasher even though it was my turn, I responded with a “This with this bird, huh?” If I was at soccer practice and the strange girl that played goalie was taking forever to run two laps, I’d say, “Giddy-up, slowpoke, what’s keepin’ ya?” When I was building sand castles at the beach, I really enjoyed letting everyone know that “I’ve got sand in places I didn’t even know I had!” (which, looking back on it, was a really awkward thing for a 4-year-old to say…) Why I favored this movie over the original Aladdin is beyond me, but every summer I’m guaranteed to remind someone to “OOOH AHHH WATCH THE SUNBURRRRN!” so at least it’s doing something for my social life.

Dunston Checks In – Technically, I should not like this movie. It’s got everything I can’t stand: Jason Alexander as anything but George Costanza, light-wash 90’s jeans, and the incredibly obnoxious kid from The Santa Clause. Despite these obvious road blocks, I couldn’t get enough of the little monkey and how much fun it was to say “Lohhhd Rutledge” in my tiny little 5-year-old British accent. To be perfectly honest, off the top of my head I can’t recall the exact plot line of this movie, but I have vivid images of Pee-Wee Herman thrashing through a greenhouse with a rifle and the monkey being kept in a trunk so I’m sure everything pieced together in one way or another. Most importantly, I know that this led to a belief that all animals wanted to be my friend and could understand me – a conviction that was later solidified by Dr. Dolittle.

Casper – I am every psychic’s dream when it comes to gullibility and a willing suspension of disbelief. If there are weird occurrences afoot and the blame comes down to a supernatural force or a random coincidence, I’ll pick ghosts every time. Pair that with the fact that I just thought Christina Ricci was the coolest girl in the entire world (huge grunge sweaters and angsty long hair and scrunchies?? I wanted her as a big sister) and this movie offered countless hours of entertainment. I am the least biggest fan of scary movies out of anyone I know, and this was my first foray into anything even remotely close to a “ghost story.” Yes, thank you, I’m aware that technically it’s not scary at all, but it has its moments for sure. When the priest comes out with his head on backwards and puke down the front of his shirt? When Carrigan turns into a ghost and is flying around with her witch cackle? When Bill Pullman tries to be an actor? FUCKING TERRIFYING. It should also be noted that this was the first time I noticed how super attractive a young male actor was. I was five when it came out. Hellooooo early bloomer.