New York City is a strange place. With ten million people living on this island, it always sort of amazes me when I run into someone unexpectedly. Now, don't get me wrong-- if I had stood on the corner of 34th Street and 3rd Avenue two years ago, I probably would have seen my entire high school graduating class. (Love ya Murray Hill!). But, with all the possible things to do, and places to be in NYC, it really does baffle me each time I see someone, in some place, that I did not expect. These situations always seem to sneak up on you, and you just never know when you might run into someone unexpected...
On Saturday night, I went to the bar Ella (Ella, Ella, Ella), I had entered the bar by myself as I was running late (as per usual) and meeting a group of my friends there. I was making my way across the bar, towards my friends, when my eyes met the gaze of a stranger across the way. Only--wait just a second... he wasn't a stranger--he was actually a guy that my friend had dated a few months prior; things had not worked out between the two of them, and I hadn't seen him since. (FYI: My friend that dated him was also at this bar--needless to say she was moderately displeased by this situation). I was making my way towards him to say hello, when I stopped dead in my tracks. Standing next to this fellow was someone that I was also familiar with. I never forget a face. (That's actually not true, I forget faces often, but--thanks to facebook--I never forgot this face).
Hmm...how to say this tactfully? Standing next to my friends ex-boo, was someone who had seen the likes of my lifesize Luke Perry poster, late one night, last summer. Great. Fucking Fantastic. Oh, how I would love nothing more than to say hello to some asswipe who, um--ya know...with me, and then never spoke to me again. A true gentleman, if you will. But alas! It was too late, both boys had already seen me, and now I had no choice but to approach them. The small talk (or, unwanted stop and chat) between me and my friend's ex-boo's, friend (Did ya get that?) was uncomfortable at best. And the very obvious discomfort that this boy was feeling, gave me anxiety, and I excused myself to go to the bathroom.
Oh, New York City, you are a strange place, and I just never know when I may run into an old friend, relative, or late-night Luke Perry visitor.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Friday, February 19, 2010
Broken Pinkie Chronicles
It has been three weeks since I broke my finger. And though, it was only my pinkie (Thank God), my finger is completely deranged looking. Like, really not okay looking, and while I am grateful that I still have all ten of my fingers (and get to wear a special little pinkie condom)--I'm not sure if I will ever have a normal looking right hand again. Guess I can kiss my career as a hand model goodbye! Guess whose right hand appeared in a jewelry store's catalog modeling rings at age 13? Mmhmm, mine.
This broken pinkie experience has taught me that each one of my extremities are important to every day functioning. The following are a list of the things that have been made far more challenging as a result of having a broken finger.
1. Eating. My pinkie splint is covered in ketchup, chocolate ice cream and hot fudge. No matter how hard I try, my pinkie splint cannot stay out of the way of my plate, and the contents on it. I cannot eat without dipping my finger into one, or all of these items.
2. Handshakes. Every new person that I've met in the past three weeks has thought that I have a dead fish handshake. I can't firmly shake anyone's hand, and thus shake like a five year old with bad manners. (Or like Julia Kaplan playing the deadfish handshake game).
3. Typing. I type like a god damn 4th grader. (These blogs have required a very concentrated effort to avoid typo's).
4. Handwriting. My handwriting (which once won a contest in the 3rd grade for its proper letter formation and neatness) is certainly sub par these days. It's a good thing that my whole day doesn't revolve around writing on a board for people to see and learn from.
5. Ice cream scooping. I've given up, and just eat from the carton.
6. Keeping my hand warm. A glove does not fit over my right hand, and my hand does not comfortably fit inside my coat pocket. I hope that my pinkie doesn't catch frost bite.
7. Make-up Application. Applying any sort of make up that I need to rub onto my skin is quite challenging using my right hand. Yes, I can do it left-handed, but it's not the same, okay?
8. Drumstick masturbation. (Just kidding, sort of).
9. Clapping. For those of you that know me well, have been in a room with me for more than 15 minutes, and or spent your summers with me at Camp Schodack-- know that I love to clap. (And, I'm dang good at it too). Clapping, (like talking for some), is one of my greatest forms of expression. Saying that I love to clap (LOUDLY) is an understatement. I have been asked by various friends not to clap in their apartments anymore, as there have been noise complaints on my behalf. I can't NOT clap, whether it is in excitement in response to good news, clapping along to a beat, or just clapping in some sort of contest (which I partake in often). Some may say my clap is abrasive, but, I say that it's strong and hearty. Not having been able to clap heartily for the last three weeks has been painful for me, and could quite possibly be the worst part of this whole broken pinkie experience.
This broken pinkie experience has taught me that each one of my extremities are important to every day functioning. The following are a list of the things that have been made far more challenging as a result of having a broken finger.
1. Eating. My pinkie splint is covered in ketchup, chocolate ice cream and hot fudge. No matter how hard I try, my pinkie splint cannot stay out of the way of my plate, and the contents on it. I cannot eat without dipping my finger into one, or all of these items.
2. Handshakes. Every new person that I've met in the past three weeks has thought that I have a dead fish handshake. I can't firmly shake anyone's hand, and thus shake like a five year old with bad manners. (Or like Julia Kaplan playing the deadfish handshake game).
3. Typing. I type like a god damn 4th grader. (These blogs have required a very concentrated effort to avoid typo's).
4. Handwriting. My handwriting (which once won a contest in the 3rd grade for its proper letter formation and neatness) is certainly sub par these days. It's a good thing that my whole day doesn't revolve around writing on a board for people to see and learn from.
5. Ice cream scooping. I've given up, and just eat from the carton.
6. Keeping my hand warm. A glove does not fit over my right hand, and my hand does not comfortably fit inside my coat pocket. I hope that my pinkie doesn't catch frost bite.
7. Make-up Application. Applying any sort of make up that I need to rub onto my skin is quite challenging using my right hand. Yes, I can do it left-handed, but it's not the same, okay?
8. Drumstick masturbation. (Just kidding, sort of).
9. Clapping. For those of you that know me well, have been in a room with me for more than 15 minutes, and or spent your summers with me at Camp Schodack-- know that I love to clap. (And, I'm dang good at it too). Clapping, (like talking for some), is one of my greatest forms of expression. Saying that I love to clap (LOUDLY) is an understatement. I have been asked by various friends not to clap in their apartments anymore, as there have been noise complaints on my behalf. I can't NOT clap, whether it is in excitement in response to good news, clapping along to a beat, or just clapping in some sort of contest (which I partake in often). Some may say my clap is abrasive, but, I say that it's strong and hearty. Not having been able to clap heartily for the last three weeks has been painful for me, and could quite possibly be the worst part of this whole broken pinkie experience.
Monday, February 15, 2010
A Little Peek Inside My Closet!
This is nothing new for me. And there is simply nothing that I can do about it either. But, every time that I am home, in the house where I spent my childhood, I have no choice but to rifle through old momentos, pictures, and journals. Each time I do this, I become increasingly nostalgic for times that have passed. (It is also becoming increasingly clear to me that I MUST publish all thirty-nine of my journals. They are a real treat!) As always, being home, I have made some very interesting findings in my closets and drawers. Hope you enjoy a small sampling of the gems that I found today!
1. Just some Nancy Kerrigan/Tanya Harding trading cards, circa de 1994. No big deal.
2. My prom dress. Yeah sure, why would it fit me? It's been eight years, and I weighed -14 pounds at prom. But none the less, here I am, trying to squeeze my body back into it. Here's what I learned: I did not have hips or an ass in 2002. Ugh, womanhood.
3. Seventeen magazine circa de 1995-1997. Found my Seventeen fall fashion guide for 1995. Animal print, plaid and Doc Martens. Kinda cool, a little bit ugly. But perhaps most importantly of all, in the fall of '95, I was eleven. Why was I reading Seventeen magazine?
4. Dated from May 24, 2004, an excerpt from Journal # 25 (Age 20).
"Saturday night was sooooooo awesome! I went to the city, to go to this new club, Tonic. Amazing music, kind of a jap scene, but still sooooo much fun!!!"
(If you live in NYC, then you know--it doesn't get any better than this).
6. My 11th grade journals. 72% of my journal entries from the 2000-2001 school year revolve around sloppy 2nd, (sucking tit). These journals also contain various printed out AOL conversations between me and different boys discussing sloppy 2nd techniques. Who (or what) was I?
7. My 9th grade Earth Science notes. (Along with all of my notes, separated by semester for all four years of highschool). What a loser! Although, Brooke and I probably could have used these notes last month, when I (we) had to take this course as a twenty-five year old.
8. My Lacrosse Varsity Letter. It took me three years on JV, but I did it, baby!
9. A book entitled "THE BOYS FROM BEVERLY HILLS 90210" circa de 1992. (I got it at the Scholastic book fair). If you don't think that this book is coming back to the city with me tomorrow, then well...you would be dead wrong.
10. A baggie of kepas (yarmulke) Did I spell either of those words right? You know, the head things that are worn in temple? Yes, well I saved every single one from every bar and bat-mitzvah that I attended in 1997.
11. Signed autographs from Jaleel White (Steve Urkel), Danielle Fishel (Topanga Lawrence), Candace Cameron (DJ Tanner) and Ann M. Martin (Author of the Babysitters Club Series). Who's jealous?
12. Dated from "February 7, 2001" An excerpt from Journal # 19 (Age 17)
"I'm really upset, I hit a parked car today. It was the third time. I went out for lunch and was trying to get out of a parking lot, and I kind of scraped the other car, whoops!!" I hate when everyone tells me how to drive when we're in the car, I'm the one with the license, dammit!"
This journal entry was pretty much a precursor for my next nine years on the road...
*Eventually, I had to stop this project of retracing my steps down memory lane. The overwhelming factors of just how much has changed, and just how much has stayed the same started to confuse me, and I needed to lay down.
1. Just some Nancy Kerrigan/Tanya Harding trading cards, circa de 1994. No big deal.
2. My prom dress. Yeah sure, why would it fit me? It's been eight years, and I weighed -14 pounds at prom. But none the less, here I am, trying to squeeze my body back into it. Here's what I learned: I did not have hips or an ass in 2002. Ugh, womanhood.
3. Seventeen magazine circa de 1995-1997. Found my Seventeen fall fashion guide for 1995. Animal print, plaid and Doc Martens. Kinda cool, a little bit ugly. But perhaps most importantly of all, in the fall of '95, I was eleven. Why was I reading Seventeen magazine?
4. Dated from May 24, 2004, an excerpt from Journal # 25 (Age 20).
"Saturday night was sooooooo awesome! I went to the city, to go to this new club, Tonic. Amazing music, kind of a jap scene, but still sooooo much fun!!!"
(If you live in NYC, then you know--it doesn't get any better than this).
6. My 11th grade journals. 72% of my journal entries from the 2000-2001 school year revolve around sloppy 2nd, (sucking tit). These journals also contain various printed out AOL conversations between me and different boys discussing sloppy 2nd techniques. Who (or what) was I?
7. My 9th grade Earth Science notes. (Along with all of my notes, separated by semester for all four years of highschool). What a loser! Although, Brooke and I probably could have used these notes last month, when I (we) had to take this course as a twenty-five year old.
8. My Lacrosse Varsity Letter. It took me three years on JV, but I did it, baby!
9. A book entitled "THE BOYS FROM BEVERLY HILLS 90210" circa de 1992. (I got it at the Scholastic book fair). If you don't think that this book is coming back to the city with me tomorrow, then well...you would be dead wrong.
10. A baggie of kepas (yarmulke) Did I spell either of those words right? You know, the head things that are worn in temple? Yes, well I saved every single one from every bar and bat-mitzvah that I attended in 1997.
11. Signed autographs from Jaleel White (Steve Urkel), Danielle Fishel (Topanga Lawrence), Candace Cameron (DJ Tanner) and Ann M. Martin (Author of the Babysitters Club Series). Who's jealous?
12. Dated from "February 7, 2001" An excerpt from Journal # 19 (Age 17)
"I'm really upset, I hit a parked car today. It was the third time. I went out for lunch and was trying to get out of a parking lot, and I kind of scraped the other car, whoops!!" I hate when everyone tells me how to drive when we're in the car, I'm the one with the license, dammit!"
This journal entry was pretty much a precursor for my next nine years on the road...
*Eventually, I had to stop this project of retracing my steps down memory lane. The overwhelming factors of just how much has changed, and just how much has stayed the same started to confuse me, and I needed to lay down.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Snow Day, Part Deux
Just a day, just a very snowy day. (In case you weren't sure, I was just singing my own lyrics to the tune of Vanessa Carlton's, Ordinary Day). Do I do things like that a lot? Or do I not do things like that a lot? What a lovely mid-week treat today was! Imagine if every work week, just happened to have Wednesday off. I think that we'd all be pretty okay with that. Just a little mid-week siesta, if you will.
My snow day began with a visit to see my penpal, Raul. Though, Raul and I have met in real life prior to penpaling, we have been conversing as penpals for quite some time now. We decided to really think outside the box, break our penpal pact, and meet again in real life. Even though, Raul would not watch 90210 with me, I think we made for pretty alright un-penpals.
This morning after a restful night's sleep, I ate four bowls of Frosted flakes, and then went to pilotties999. (That is an oxymoron, I know). Afterwards, I spent the rest of my afternoon with three of my favorite people in America (and also the world). BGBabe (at her apartment), Meelz and Brookie2000. (We missed you Ma-wa). We made s'mores (which were delicious, thanks for asking). We watched bad movies, good TV, and I dared everyone in the room to kiss my swollen, broken, pinkie. And oh, Amelia admitted defeat to me by accidentally humming the lyrics to So What by P!nk. A great time was had by all. And, though I may sound a little bit greedy...I would not be overly disappointed if we had another snow day tomorrow. Because, I ask you--who doesn't love spending a snowy day indoors, with her best friends, making s'mores.
(Please note that was an unintentional rhyme--and I apologize for the cheese factor of that line).
My snow day began with a visit to see my penpal, Raul. Though, Raul and I have met in real life prior to penpaling, we have been conversing as penpals for quite some time now. We decided to really think outside the box, break our penpal pact, and meet again in real life. Even though, Raul would not watch 90210 with me, I think we made for pretty alright un-penpals.
This morning after a restful night's sleep, I ate four bowls of Frosted flakes, and then went to pilotties999. (That is an oxymoron, I know). Afterwards, I spent the rest of my afternoon with three of my favorite people in America (and also the world). BGBabe (at her apartment), Meelz and Brookie2000. (We missed you Ma-wa). We made s'mores (which were delicious, thanks for asking). We watched bad movies, good TV, and I dared everyone in the room to kiss my swollen, broken, pinkie. And oh, Amelia admitted defeat to me by accidentally humming the lyrics to So What by P!nk. A great time was had by all. And, though I may sound a little bit greedy...I would not be overly disappointed if we had another snow day tomorrow. Because, I ask you--who doesn't love spending a snowy day indoors, with her best friends, making s'mores.
(Please note that was an unintentional rhyme--and I apologize for the cheese factor of that line).
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Snow Day
Oh, how I love you snow days! Oh, how I love you even more, finding out at eleven am the day before! When Ma-wa imed me this morning (via gchat of course) with a link to ABC News stating that all NYC schools were closed, I almost cried with joy. I immediately texted BGbabe (who is also a teacher) to see if she had heard the news yet at her school, on the Upper West Side. She had not yet heard--and I was just delighted to be able to spread the joy.
Perhaps the best part of my day was actually getting to tell my students the excellent snow day news. I remember fondly, that feeling as a child, and dang--it was a good one. What could be better than knowing in advance that the school day you thought you had, has been cancelled. The answer is nothing. Nothing is better.
Before, I let my students know that they would get to revel in the glory of a snow day, I decided to fuck with them first. As far as teachers go, I am not the strictest, so when my "stern" (bitchy) voice comes out, I mean business. I told my class that I had some very serious news to tell them, and that they needed to quiet down immediately. Before, the words could even escape from my mouth, the following questions blurted out from my students' mouths...guesses if you will, as to what the nature of my "serious news" could be.
"Are you pregnant?" No. (I sure as hell hope not).
"Are you getting married?" No. (I sure as hell hope so--one day far in the future that is).
"Do you want to get married?" I-er-um.. But,You're too young to get married, you're only a teenager! (Yes, my students think that I'm a teenager). Ok you guys, I'm not getting married.
But perhaps my favorite question of all came from Colin, who thoughtfully cocked his head to the side and said, "Did you get your first kiss or something?" Yes, Colin! At the tender age of twenty-six, I have just gotten my first kiss, and have decided to share this momentous event with all of you, my eight year old students.
Finally, after the big announcement was made (which by the way, had a priceless reaction, and reconfirms everything that I love about kids)--There would be no school tomorrow--and I was not knocked up, engaged or otherwise. Gus came up to me with a genuine look of wonderment on his face. I asked him if everything was okay. He said, "Lauren, (Yes, the students call me Lauren--it's a Quaker school), Are you dating anyone right now?" Excuse me?
Caught off guard, I was not sure how to respond. I suppose I could have told Gus about how I puke on dinner dates, and that I occasionally make out with random strangers at bars, but I didn't quite think that answer was the one that he was looking for. Also, I value my job, and so I chose to stay silent. That's right, I literally ignored Gus, turned my back to him, and walked away.
As a child, I always had a general curiosity of my teacher's personal lives, but the level of questioning that my students think they are entitled to about my personal life borderlines on absurd. I would say that I've had it, but according to my students, I'm only a teenager, so what do I know anyways?
Perhaps the best part of my day was actually getting to tell my students the excellent snow day news. I remember fondly, that feeling as a child, and dang--it was a good one. What could be better than knowing in advance that the school day you thought you had, has been cancelled. The answer is nothing. Nothing is better.
Before, I let my students know that they would get to revel in the glory of a snow day, I decided to fuck with them first. As far as teachers go, I am not the strictest, so when my "stern" (bitchy) voice comes out, I mean business. I told my class that I had some very serious news to tell them, and that they needed to quiet down immediately. Before, the words could even escape from my mouth, the following questions blurted out from my students' mouths...guesses if you will, as to what the nature of my "serious news" could be.
"Are you pregnant?" No. (I sure as hell hope not).
"Are you getting married?" No. (I sure as hell hope so--one day far in the future that is).
"Do you want to get married?" I-er-um.. But,You're too young to get married, you're only a teenager! (Yes, my students think that I'm a teenager). Ok you guys, I'm not getting married.
But perhaps my favorite question of all came from Colin, who thoughtfully cocked his head to the side and said, "Did you get your first kiss or something?" Yes, Colin! At the tender age of twenty-six, I have just gotten my first kiss, and have decided to share this momentous event with all of you, my eight year old students.
Finally, after the big announcement was made (which by the way, had a priceless reaction, and reconfirms everything that I love about kids)--There would be no school tomorrow--and I was not knocked up, engaged or otherwise. Gus came up to me with a genuine look of wonderment on his face. I asked him if everything was okay. He said, "Lauren, (Yes, the students call me Lauren--it's a Quaker school), Are you dating anyone right now?" Excuse me?
Caught off guard, I was not sure how to respond. I suppose I could have told Gus about how I puke on dinner dates, and that I occasionally make out with random strangers at bars, but I didn't quite think that answer was the one that he was looking for. Also, I value my job, and so I chose to stay silent. That's right, I literally ignored Gus, turned my back to him, and walked away.
As a child, I always had a general curiosity of my teacher's personal lives, but the level of questioning that my students think they are entitled to about my personal life borderlines on absurd. I would say that I've had it, but according to my students, I'm only a teenager, so what do I know anyways?
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Puke and Rally
Puke and rally. We have all been there. We drink, we puke, we drink again. However, I'm pretty sure that I have never "been there" while on a date.
Recently, a friend of mine (and this time when I say friend, I do of course mean me) was on a fancy-pantz dinner date. There was fine food and drinks all around. Some people can eat and drink in great proportions and feel just fine. I am not one of them. I am simply not meant to consume vast quantities of alcohol, while simultaneously eating a four course meal. And yet, that is just what I did. After a couple of hours of this, I started to feel a bit sick. Not wanting to let this guy know, (who had probably spent the better part of his life savings on this meal) I decided to take a breather, and go to the bathroom--perhaps splash some water on my face. What I didn't yet realize, was that I was about to puke and (later rally). Nausea overcame me, and well--you know what happened next. Luckily for me, I felt instantly better, and just happened to have a toothbrush and travel size toothpaste with me. (Yes, I'm a freak). But, come on--nobody wants to hang out with a pukebreath all night, now do they?
Recently, a friend of mine (and this time when I say friend, I do of course mean me) was on a fancy-pantz dinner date. There was fine food and drinks all around. Some people can eat and drink in great proportions and feel just fine. I am not one of them. I am simply not meant to consume vast quantities of alcohol, while simultaneously eating a four course meal. And yet, that is just what I did. After a couple of hours of this, I started to feel a bit sick. Not wanting to let this guy know, (who had probably spent the better part of his life savings on this meal) I decided to take a breather, and go to the bathroom--perhaps splash some water on my face. What I didn't yet realize, was that I was about to puke and (later rally). Nausea overcame me, and well--you know what happened next. Luckily for me, I felt instantly better, and just happened to have a toothbrush and travel size toothpaste with me. (Yes, I'm a freak). But, come on--nobody wants to hang out with a pukebreath all night, now do they?
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Just some Tunes
I kind of love angry girl (semi-pop for some) singers. (Not in a Lillith Fair type of way). But, there are some songs, that are so ultimate girl unleashing, that they really just sort of speak to me. (And yes, I am totally serious).
Let's take Alanis Morisette's, You Outta Know, for starters. Alanais UNLEASHES her unfathomable fury at Joey Gladstone. (Dave Coulier). Beware. Her lyrics are brutal and direct. Alanis is passionately hurting in this song, in a way, that you can't help but to love her just a little, (and want to kill Joey). I also love how she is literally yelling (but in a somewhat poetic way) throughout the song. (An aside: I remember sitting on my bed in 6th grade, a copy of the song's lyrics in my hands, while Rweissypantz and I tried to memorize each and every word, while simultaneously choreographing a dance). As an eleven year old, I don't think I quite understood Alanis's message. But, as a 26 year old--I get it, Alanis. I get it.
And every time you speak her name does she know how you told me you'd hold me until you died--but you're still alive." Pretty powerful stuff. Joey Gladstone left her for another woman, and she is left wondering, would she go down on him in a theatre? Every time I hear this song, I instantly get pumped up. Something about an angry woman (due to man troubles) really fires me up.
Next in line for me came Christina Aguilera's, Fighter. Now, while I thought that this song was my anthem for the summer of 2002, (More on this later) I would soon learn that this song was actually about Christina's destructive relationship with her father. I took this song's lyrics and applied them directly to my own life. " I thought I knew you--thinking that you were true, guess I couldn't trust, called your bluff, time is up, cause I've had enough...So, I wanna say thank you cause--it makes me that much stronger, made my skin a little bit thicker, thanks for making me a fighter" Fuming after discovering my high school bf had cheated on me while I was away at my college orientation, (Are you laughing? This is a little bit funny). At the time, Christina's lyrics gave me what I thought was the strength that I needed to move on. Yes, I am serious. And yes, I just threw up a little writing that last line. Also, even mentioning this experience, as some sort of trauma makes me laugh outloud a little. Who cares? (Apparently I did in 2002). But, all joking aside, at the time, there was something truly consoling to me about Christina's lyrics. (Also, I used to drive by said high school ex-bf's house and blast this song from my jeep with the windows down). Yeah, I probably could have used some therapy. Love ya Hindsight!
Then came Kelly Clarkson's, Since You've Been Gone in December of 2005. Perhaps a poppier version of Fighter. But none the less, those lyrics impacted me as well. If Kelly Clarkson could breathe, and move on without this disastrous man in her life, then so could I. This song came out just when I needed it the most, (probably the next time that I was seriously traumatized by a male in my life). It may be five years later, but those beginning chords of Since You've Been Gone, still get me going every time.
And lastly, in my women empowerment songs, comes Fiona Apple's, Criminal. Even though this song came out in 1996, I would not discover it until much later. The music video is one of my favorites. Fiona Apple is at some kind of 70's orgy with male models. Fiona is hot, in kind of even further emaciated version of Mary-Kate Olsen. In this song, she is the hurter, not the hurtee. She's seeking redemption for her bad, bad ways. Fiona is seeking a good defense, cause she's feeling like a criminal. And ya know what? I like it.
Let's take Alanis Morisette's, You Outta Know, for starters. Alanais UNLEASHES her unfathomable fury at Joey Gladstone. (Dave Coulier). Beware. Her lyrics are brutal and direct. Alanis is passionately hurting in this song, in a way, that you can't help but to love her just a little, (and want to kill Joey). I also love how she is literally yelling (but in a somewhat poetic way) throughout the song. (An aside: I remember sitting on my bed in 6th grade, a copy of the song's lyrics in my hands, while Rweissypantz and I tried to memorize each and every word, while simultaneously choreographing a dance). As an eleven year old, I don't think I quite understood Alanis's message. But, as a 26 year old--I get it, Alanis. I get it.
And every time you speak her name does she know how you told me you'd hold me until you died--but you're still alive." Pretty powerful stuff. Joey Gladstone left her for another woman, and she is left wondering, would she go down on him in a theatre? Every time I hear this song, I instantly get pumped up. Something about an angry woman (due to man troubles) really fires me up.
Next in line for me came Christina Aguilera's, Fighter. Now, while I thought that this song was my anthem for the summer of 2002, (More on this later) I would soon learn that this song was actually about Christina's destructive relationship with her father. I took this song's lyrics and applied them directly to my own life. " I thought I knew you--thinking that you were true, guess I couldn't trust, called your bluff, time is up, cause I've had enough...So, I wanna say thank you cause--it makes me that much stronger, made my skin a little bit thicker, thanks for making me a fighter" Fuming after discovering my high school bf had cheated on me while I was away at my college orientation, (Are you laughing? This is a little bit funny). At the time, Christina's lyrics gave me what I thought was the strength that I needed to move on. Yes, I am serious. And yes, I just threw up a little writing that last line. Also, even mentioning this experience, as some sort of trauma makes me laugh outloud a little. Who cares? (Apparently I did in 2002). But, all joking aside, at the time, there was something truly consoling to me about Christina's lyrics. (Also, I used to drive by said high school ex-bf's house and blast this song from my jeep with the windows down). Yeah, I probably could have used some therapy. Love ya Hindsight!
Then came Kelly Clarkson's, Since You've Been Gone in December of 2005. Perhaps a poppier version of Fighter. But none the less, those lyrics impacted me as well. If Kelly Clarkson could breathe, and move on without this disastrous man in her life, then so could I. This song came out just when I needed it the most, (probably the next time that I was seriously traumatized by a male in my life). It may be five years later, but those beginning chords of Since You've Been Gone, still get me going every time.
And lastly, in my women empowerment songs, comes Fiona Apple's, Criminal. Even though this song came out in 1996, I would not discover it until much later. The music video is one of my favorites. Fiona Apple is at some kind of 70's orgy with male models. Fiona is hot, in kind of even further emaciated version of Mary-Kate Olsen. In this song, she is the hurter, not the hurtee. She's seeking redemption for her bad, bad ways. Fiona is seeking a good defense, cause she's feeling like a criminal. And ya know what? I like it.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Good Girls Go Bad
Okay, I confess that this blog title has nothing to do with the topic at hand, but omg do I love this song right now--or what!!?
Happy 100th Blog posting to me! Never thought this night would come so soon (Schodack CIT's?)
No, but really, I'll stop making inside jokes with myself and with 8% of the people reading this. In honor of this 100th blog posting, I thought I'd tell you 100 things about myself!!! (I know, it's just what you've ALWAYS wanted to read). But since, 100 is a whole lot of things, (a girl's gotta have some secrets (Nope, not this girl)/I want you guys to keep reading/liking me/I swear I'm not really this self-absorbed). So instead, I will tell you 1/5th of 100 things. (I'm pretty sure that makes twenty).
1. I was this close to being named, RACHEL. (And, if I were a boy--you could have called me Eric).
2. I write most blogs naked, as I think I work better in the nude. (This does not however, apply to my day job, of working with small children).
3. Good Girls Go Bad is playing on my ipod right now, and I am aggressively dancing in my chair.
4. In my first year of teaching, one of my students looked point blank at my tits and said, "I'm scared of your big giant fangs."
5. I once paid a secret spy service to obtain Luke Perry's real life address and phone number. (I was 22 when I did this). Okay or not okay?
6. On this same note, when I met Tori Spelling at her book signing (at age 24) I gave her a letter that I had written to her. As I handed the letter to her, she looked at me with mild disgust and said, "Do I have to read this now?" I get it, I'm moderately creepy. But did she have to hold the letter as if it contained anthrax?
7. Using a basketball pump, I once tried to deflate my two year old sister's pot belly. (Love ya Heatz!)
8. Most of you know that I'm a human jukebox, but just know this: every time you speak to me, I am fighting the insatiable urge to belt out a song lyric that coincides with what you just said: consider yourself warned.
9. So what if I like to watch Amelia sleep? Sioux me. (To the 18 people who have told me that I spelled "sue" wrong, I know. This is a Camp Schodack inside joke, get over it).
10. I nicknamed my almost-30 year old brother, Judy. Who wishes they had me for a sister?
11. I played the flute in 5th grade, but quit because I could not read music.
12. Thanks to my 8th grade English teacher, I can still name the 52 prepositions in 20 seconds or less.
13. My ocd for cleanliness once hit an all time high (or low depending on who you ask) when I unpacked my sophomore year roommate's (Ling-Lang)'s bag while she was out of the room. She may or may not still be mad at me for this.
14. I lost my first name about ten years ago, and I don't think that I'm ever getting it back.
15. Freshman year of college, I made out with a guy who shall I say--patted my bum lightly? Exactly in tune with Vanilla Ice's Ice-Ice-Baby conveniently playing in the background.
16. Every graduation ceremony, (Television or otherwise) regardless of what year it took place (ie, Saved by The Bell, West Bev c/o '93, and the OC) makes me cry no matter what. If you throw your cap in the air, tears are going to stream.
17. Little Mimi Girl bought me a digital camera for my birthday! I have officially entered the 21st century, just ten years late.
18.Before I learned how to drive, I used to ask my mom to drive past the houses of boys that I liked. That's right, my mom and I were a tagteam stalking machine.
19. Thanks to Ryanruss, there is an entire facebook album of pictures of me, alone, in London.
20. I have approximately 8-10 bowls of Frosted Flakes per weekend. I may or may not be your healthiest friend.
Happy 100th Blog posting to me! Never thought this night would come so soon (Schodack CIT's?)
No, but really, I'll stop making inside jokes with myself and with 8% of the people reading this. In honor of this 100th blog posting, I thought I'd tell you 100 things about myself!!! (I know, it's just what you've ALWAYS wanted to read). But since, 100 is a whole lot of things, (a girl's gotta have some secrets (Nope, not this girl)/I want you guys to keep reading/liking me/I swear I'm not really this self-absorbed). So instead, I will tell you 1/5th of 100 things. (I'm pretty sure that makes twenty).
1. I was this close to being named, RACHEL. (And, if I were a boy--you could have called me Eric).
2. I write most blogs naked, as I think I work better in the nude. (This does not however, apply to my day job, of working with small children).
3. Good Girls Go Bad is playing on my ipod right now, and I am aggressively dancing in my chair.
4. In my first year of teaching, one of my students looked point blank at my tits and said, "I'm scared of your big giant fangs."
5. I once paid a secret spy service to obtain Luke Perry's real life address and phone number. (I was 22 when I did this). Okay or not okay?
6. On this same note, when I met Tori Spelling at her book signing (at age 24) I gave her a letter that I had written to her. As I handed the letter to her, she looked at me with mild disgust and said, "Do I have to read this now?" I get it, I'm moderately creepy. But did she have to hold the letter as if it contained anthrax?
7. Using a basketball pump, I once tried to deflate my two year old sister's pot belly. (Love ya Heatz!)
8. Most of you know that I'm a human jukebox, but just know this: every time you speak to me, I am fighting the insatiable urge to belt out a song lyric that coincides with what you just said: consider yourself warned.
9. So what if I like to watch Amelia sleep? Sioux me. (To the 18 people who have told me that I spelled "sue" wrong, I know. This is a Camp Schodack inside joke, get over it).
10. I nicknamed my almost-30 year old brother, Judy. Who wishes they had me for a sister?
11. I played the flute in 5th grade, but quit because I could not read music.
12. Thanks to my 8th grade English teacher, I can still name the 52 prepositions in 20 seconds or less.
13. My ocd for cleanliness once hit an all time high (or low depending on who you ask) when I unpacked my sophomore year roommate's (Ling-Lang)'s bag while she was out of the room. She may or may not still be mad at me for this.
14. I lost my first name about ten years ago, and I don't think that I'm ever getting it back.
15. Freshman year of college, I made out with a guy who shall I say--patted my bum lightly? Exactly in tune with Vanilla Ice's Ice-Ice-Baby conveniently playing in the background.
16. Every graduation ceremony, (Television or otherwise) regardless of what year it took place (ie, Saved by The Bell, West Bev c/o '93, and the OC) makes me cry no matter what. If you throw your cap in the air, tears are going to stream.
17. Little Mimi Girl bought me a digital camera for my birthday! I have officially entered the 21st century, just ten years late.
18.Before I learned how to drive, I used to ask my mom to drive past the houses of boys that I liked. That's right, my mom and I were a tagteam stalking machine.
19. Thanks to Ryanruss, there is an entire facebook album of pictures of me, alone, in London.
20. I have approximately 8-10 bowls of Frosted Flakes per weekend. I may or may not be your healthiest friend.
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