Sweet, I Got Rob Pattinson Under My Tree

Today, I was surprised by a Facebook notification informing me that my friend Lindsay just placed a gift underneath my Christmas tree. A gift? For me? How splendid. I didn't even know I had a Christmas tree. I was prompted to [Click here to see it!] Well, OK, if you insist. A few clicks later, I had installed the My Christmas Tree application, which allows Facebook friends to exchange virtual gifts with one another. It's kinda perfect for me right now actually, being that I have little to no money to spend on real gifts for my nearest and dearest. Given the current state of the economy, I'm guessing others can commiserate. 

Next step on the way to retrieving my gift: unwrapping. Forreal. Even better than giving people virtual gifts, you can virtually wrap them. The sender may choose for the gift only to be opened on Christmas, a specific day before Christmas, or whenever the recipient chooses. Thankfully Linds left the option open to me. I considered waiting until closer to Christmas to unwrap my gift, but couldn't help myself. I mean, who am I kidding? Self-restraint is not my strong suit. (Actually, this isn't entirely true. I am quite good with restraint, just not when it comes to presents.) Much to my pleasure, upon "unwrapping" my gift, I found the pretty face of Rob Pattinson as Edward Cullen staring back at me. To be precise, she gave me a virtual date with a vampire, something I could only dream of receiving in reality. Thank you, Lindsay. Thank you very much indeed. It's funny how technology can be so silly yet somehow still so satisfying. In return, she will receive from me a virtual date with Johnny Depp wrapped in a royal blue box with a white ribbon. You're welcome. Ah, the gift of virtual giving. 

*****

Currently listening to:

Fearless by Taylor Swift ("Hey Stephen" and "Breathe" the most)

Circus by Britney Spears

"Les Femmes" by Yelle

"Love Game" by Lady Gaga

"Single Ladies" by Beyonce (always hilarious now thanks to this skit)

"Can't Believe It (Remix)" by T-Pain feat. Justin Timberlake

Oh, Hello

See, I tried to warn you. Awful, awful, absolutely terribly awful at keeping up with a blog. But I'm back now, or at least I will try to be. I've been distracted by life lately and haven't written about it nearly as much as I should. I can't figure out how personal I actually want this blog to be, or if I'll keep it strictly on-the-surface, pop culture and all that shiz. Personal stuff tends to be the best, the juiciest, the meatiest. And I have quite a bit in this arena these days. BUT it also happens to be significantly tougher to write about. Hmm, decisions.

More to come from me, I promise. Later. I promise.

Jim Bianco Makes Me Want To Fall In Love

I went to see Jim Bianco at Hotel Cafe last night and was transfixed as always by his mad skillz. I don't know what category of music he technically falls under, but a lot of his stuff sounds it'd be played at burlesque shows or even strip clubs (in fact, I've heard he is popular among the strip club circuit). He's also been compared to Elvis Costello and Tom Waits. I'm honestly not musically versed enough to know if these comparisons are warranted. All I know is I like what he does and he does it well. Maybe I'd call his music provocative rock, since it sounds like the kind of music that makes people feel sexy. Or at least women. Or maybe it's just me. It can't just be me. Right? I mean, if strippers are into it...

ANYWAY, he performed a lot of new material from an as yet unreleased album that I obviously will be buying once it drops (oh yeah, I'm down with the cool kid lingo). Once again, I found myself entirely entranced as he assumed his peculiar on-stage persona. It's almost spastic, but... stylish spastic. I love it. He's one of those entertainers that I can never see live too many times because it doesn't feel like he's performing as much as the music is just spilling out of him. When he's in front of a crowd, it's so clear that he was born to do exactly what he does. It's a beautiful sight.

Like most artists, Jim tends to sing about two things, love and sex. A lot of his songs are anecdotal so I enjoy hearing the stories he tells. There was one last night called "Elevator Operator," about a girl who wanted to be an elevator operator because she liked encountering all the different kinds of people who rode the lifts. One of his all-time bests is "Tennessee Wedding," which paints the picture of a crazy southern couple and the madness that ensues the day of their nuptials. My personal favorites of his are (of course) about love. His ballads get me every time, probably because of their interesting contrast from his otherwise abrasive sound. That man has quite a way with words. His are some of the most adorable, romantic lyrics ever ever ever. For example, he wishes he had "More Hands" in the eponymous song, "so I could touch your body while I touch your face." In the semi-stalkerish "I Got A Thing For You," he tells a girl "I wouldn't lie to you, unless you want me to." Smoooooth. Then he goes on to proclaim "even when you sweat, you sweat with style." Sexxxy. "Painkiller" exposes a touch of vulnerability as he asks a girl "Would you be my painkiller?/Would you make all those voices whispering in my ear disappear?" (I realize this technically makes him sound like a schizo, but he manages to make this sentiment sound so sweet.) And "Belong" might be the sugary-est one yet:  "I belong to you/I don't know how I know it/But I belong to you/And sometimes I don't know show it/But I know I do/Baby I belong to you." I mean, come on.

Shit like that, combined with his raspy smoker's voice, downright dissolves my bones. I seriously turn to mush watching him perform. It's a little bit amazing. Jim Bianco serves as another example of a performer who is pretty average looking in general yet becomes irresistible when he performs. He just carries himself like he is sexy, so I believe it. He sings not only like he wants to fuck you ("you" being any listener), but he would do it right. Josh Kelley does that, too. What I like more, though, is that Jim doesn't always paint a perfect picture of love. It's nice enough to romanticize a person or a relationship, but Jim points out the downsides just as much. His overall vibe is that even though love sucks sometimes, it's ultimately worth it. Jim's music makes love and sex and all the madness that comes with it sound like something I want to be a part of. He sounds like falling in love. And I walk away every time wishing I had someone to apply those lovely lyrics to.

*****

Currently listening to:

Jim Bianco (obvi)

Twilight Soundtrack

I Lost My "I Voted" Sticker

Man, I was so pumped on getting one and now it's lost forever! Sad face.

I don't enjoy talking about politics so I'm not gonna post a diatribe on the election or how critical this one in particular is. The media's done a superb job drilling its importance into our heads these past few months. I will say that I am equally scared and excited for how things are going to go down tonight. I love the diversity of America and it is what makes me so goddamn nervous for this election. I hope we make the right choice.

Seth Rogen and Conforming To The Man

Fifteen years in the world of academia taught me a thing or two about conforming to the man. A large lesson in school, after all, is learning how to survive in a system where we're expected to meet and/or exceed someone else's standards. Following our schooling, we enter the "real world," the adult world, the working world, the world of paychecks and bills and responsibility and mature decisions or disastrous consequences. I'm not quite there yet. I'm still in Kansas.

My older sister, on the other hand, is not in Kansas anymore. She has been on the job hunt for the past few months(!). Serving my role as younger doting sister, I often accompany her for moral support as she endures interview after interview... after interview. This process has been trying for her as well as myself, though for different reasons.

I've always sort of known that I'm not the normal, go-to-school-to-get-a-nine-to-five-office-job girl. I mean, obviously. Otherwise I would have majored in just about anything other than screenwriting (except maybe philosophy). The truth of just how much I am not that kind of girl hit me like a slap in face as I sat in waiting room of a temp agency while my sister was handed a clipboard full of forms to fill out. Other than general contact and previous employment information, the form asked for "three adjectives that describe yourself and how that qualifies you in the workplace" and "three qualities you look for in a work environment," et cetera et cetera. Watching my sister read these questions made me want to run out of the room screaming. Literally. I was getting anxiety at the thought of someone else having to answer these questions. It made me think about how I'd answer these questions. And my answer to that is I don't want to answer these questions. I refuse. They're stupid and they say very little about who I am and how qualified I am for a job. It tells them if I can write fully formed sentences and sell myself as a possible employee. I can. But I really don't want to. 

And the truth is, I know I'll have to eventually. I may not be ready yet to be part of the machine, but it is inevitable. If you want any modicum of success (and I do), you must conform to the system -- the man -- eventually.ˆ

And thinking about all this made me think of Seth Rogen.

Seth is best known for his roles as the chubby tattooed guy who taught The 40-Year-Old Virgin how to hit on women, the chubby guy who Knocked Up Katherine Heigl, the chubby cop who befriended McLovin, and the chubby Pineapple Express-smoking Dale Denton. You get the gist. He has a bit of chubs, a trait some women like myself find adorable and endearing. At any rate, Seth did a lot of press last week to promote his latest release Zack and Miri Make A Porno. Dedicated fan as I am, I watched his slew of interviews with late night funnymen, all of whom can't help but notice along with the rest of us how different Seth is looking these days.

See, Seth signed on to co-write and star in The Green Hornet, another big budget comic book-based superhero movie.  In order to look like anything resembling a superhero, Seth is being forced to lose some weight through (what I'm guessing is closely monitored) dieting and exercise. This doesn't sound like a horrible idea. He looks great and he's probably a lot healthier than he was before. But he's sure as shit not as happy. And he made this all too clear in every one of his interviews. This is not who Seth is. He doesn't like counting calories. He doesn't like exerting himself to burn calories. On top of the dieting and the exercise, I'd be willing to bet they made him stop smoking weed, his most favoritest recreational activity, so as to extinguish his munchie urges. They're not only depriving him of things that make him happy (eating and pot), they're adding activities to his life (exercise) that he does not enjoy. But this is where Seth is a bigger person than I. He's doing all this, even though he really doesn't want to. 

He's changing his lifestyle to serve something bigger than himself: the studios who want to make money off of consumers like himself that want to see their favorite comic books brought to life in cinema. If I sound cynical about this, it's because I am a little. It makes me sad. Looking at Skinny Seth Rogen makes me sad because I see me in ten years. Seth never wanted to be this guy. And he's disgusted with himself now that he's become what he is. But the tried-and-true comic book nerd in him wants this film to be made right. And if that means (temporarily) sacrificing his happiness, so be it. That's the real world.

ˆI tried my darnedest to think of a person in film/TV who could refute this fact, but it remains true in my eyes. Even the people who start out doggedly original their first time out (Larry David, Kevin Smith, Paul Feig) become part of mainstream manufactured success at some point.

*****

Currently listening to:

To Remember by Josh Kelley

"Cookie Jar" by Gym Class Heroes

"Ready For The Floor" & "Wrestlers" by Hot Chip

here we go, here we go, here we go again

Let me just start by saying this isn't the first blog I've had. And there's no logical reason that this one will somehow sustain while the others have failed to (or rather, I've failed to sustain them). But there are many things in life that defy reason (among them: unconditional love, Spencer Pratt's semi-celebrity status, racism, W being president for 8 years) so I'm hoping this one'll stick.

I recently read Killing Yourself to Live by Chuck Klosterman, who I consider to be a brilliant man, and not just because he writes the way I want to write and often about things I want to write about. I could write an essay explaining Klosterman's brilliance, but I'll spare you. (Actually, this article does an admirable job.) I only mention my recent read because it is where I got the unusually long URL for this godforsaken blog. In KYTL, good ol' Chuck writes, "Art and love are the same thing: It's the process of seeing yourself in things that are not you. It's understanding the unreasonable." I just like that a lot.

But ANYWAY, reading Chuck K's thoughtful ponderings (redundant? I don't care) re-awakened my desire to write about pop culture shit that seems almost meaningless but is for some reason important to me and possibly relevant to the masses. Not that the masses will be reading this. This brings me back to my prior reference of my failed attempts at blogosphere dabbling. 

Because I like making lists, here are some reasons I find it difficult to maintain a blog:

1) I have yet to reconcile the artsy and logical parts of my brain. The creative side of me is overflowing with thoughts to share until my logical side shoots it down into submission. It goes a little something like this...

Creative side: Hm, that was an interesting thought. I should write that down.

Logical side: Sure, go ahead, write it down in your journal so you can remember how profound you once thought you were.

CS: No, not in my journal. I mean, like, maybe in a --

LS: Don't you dare say blog.

CS: -- Blog?

LS: No.

CS: Why not? I'm kinda smart and interesting. Maybe someone will read it and see how smart and interesting I am. Maybe someone will agree with me. Or even better, maybe someone won't agree with me! We can get into an interesting debate about the subject and meet somewhere in the middle, and the world will be beautiful and harmonious as it should be.

LS: No. They won't and it won't. Don't do it.

CS: Are you sure? I think I should.

LS: Listen to me. Don't do it.

CS: Ugh, you're so annoying. I need to express myself somehow! 

LS: You're annoying.

CS: I am?

LS: Yes, now go away while I look for a job.

CS: You go away. I want to write.

LS: Oh really, floja? You keep saying you want to write, but you're not writing. So while you sit stagnant and wax philosophical, I'm gonna actually be productive and try to put some money in your pocket so you can stop mooching off the parentals.

CS: You're right. What was I thinking? I'll go.

Creative side huddles in the corner for weeks at time only to sporadically peek its head out in fleeting spurts. 

Side note: My logical side's a bit of a bully, though not in actuality any less lazy than my creative side. Which brings me to my second point.

2) I'm lazy. I really am. When it comes to my writing, I tend to be very, very, very particular. Proofreading and editing are time-consuming, man. My writing style may sound candid, but I assure you it takes shitload of effort to make writing seem effortless. My laziness wins 99% of the time. When I was in school, it helped having an authority figure to give me deadlines, which I met (almost always) on time. Now that I'm out of school, professorless and editorless, I'm supposed to be all self-disciplined about my writing, give myself my own projects and deadlines. I know some people are great being their own boss, but acting as my own authority figure has proven an exercise in futility. It flat out does not work. I think I was born for school. Give me structure. Give me guidelines. Guide me. I excel. It's not so much that I can't do it myself. I simply don't. I tend to respect my authority figures. But evidently I don't respect myself as an authority figure (something tells me I shouldn't share this thought with my future children).  So, like I said, lazy.

3) The few times I'm motivated enough to complete an entry, I never post it. I read it, proofread, edit it, read it, re-read it, edit it again, give it a final read-through or five, and finally call it finished. Then I select all and delete. Because I know the minute I post it, there's the slim chance that someone will read it. But isn't the whole point of having a blog so other people can read it? Trust me, I'm all too aware of how asinine I sound right now. I'm just trying to explain how I think, no matter senseless it is. I'm passionate about writing and I'm self-conscious to a fault. In essence, I am a writer with a fear of letting others read my writing. This is the equivalent of a professional swimmer with a fear of water. It doesn't work. So I'm working on it... I swear, sometimes I consider going to a therapist just so I could get a professional opinion on my psyche and see if it mirrors my own amateur self-diagnosis.

4) Who cares? Yes, I have a lot to say but why should people have to listen to it? I realize this reasoning has not stopped millions of other people from starting their own blogs and it obviously hasn't stopped me from starting one, even several. It has, however, stopped me from continuing any.

4a) Often I feel like I have no authority to write anything. I'm a 21-year-old college grad whose musings about the world around her bear little importance to the grand scheme of life. Truly. Chances are I'm not educated enough on any of the things I'll write about to come up with anything remotely enlightening. I'm not trying to be down on myself or anything; that's a simple fact. These are my opinions and they matter no more than yours. So sometimes I just don't even bother commenting. Until now. 

4b) People with blogs can sound like tools. I'm not saying these people are tools (even though in the world of blogging I'm absolutely allowed to say that). There's just something about having a blog that inherently implies ego. Being the possessor of a healthy ego is a good thing, yet it is not always interpreted this way. Having a blog = I believe I'm important enough to have an opinion you should care about. I like reading people's blogs but it gives me license to judge them, nicely or not. Hence, having one of my own gives others license to judge me. They have license to judge me whether or not I have a blog, but the blog becomes something substantial they can use in their judgments. And for some reason, that scares me.

Now that I've gone through all the reasons I suck at having a blog, I hope I can overcome them.

Enjoy. Or don't. I'll keep writing either way. Or will I?

*****

Currently re-reading: 

Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs by Chuck Klosterman (yeah, I'm going through a phase - SUCK IT)

Currently listening to:

Acid Tongue by Jenny Lewis

The Bake Sale by The Cool Kids

"Decode" by Paramore

"Bruises" by Chairlift