Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Yes, this just happened to me

What you are about to read, internet, is what I would call a "bad day". Now, I am aware that people have bad days all the time, but me: I do not. I try to find the good in every day, and I constantly work on patience and awareness. Sometimes, though, it's just got to be statistics that say every day cannot be good. I guess I was long overdue, and this is what ensued. This story, in no way, is a dramatization of what actually occurred. It is a play by play of something I can't even call a bad day, because in actuality, this is one hour and 15 minutes of my life today.

It started when I walked from work to my car in the parking garage, headed to see my trainer for the first time in 2 weeks! I wanted to cancel, of course, because it is much more fun to be lazy, but I said to myself, "Self: You need this. You will regret not going, and so you will go, and you will love how you feel after. Trust me". This pep talk happened as I walked in the brisk fall air of Seattle. I drove to the gym, found a wonderful spot right outside the gym and the ATM (double score!) and proceeded to turn the car off to get out and buy a parking sticker for the next hour. A tiny thought rushed past as I pulled the key out of the ignition and automatically, without thought as always, placed the keys in my purse. The thought said, "Lock or don't?" I immediately thought "lock" because the street I was on is riddled with homeless people and hoodlums, and my purse was on the front seat. I had my mini wallet in hand, opened the door, locked it with the auto lock on the door handle, stepped out and shut it. I walked halfway to the parking meter when I got that sense of impending doom in my tummy. Immediately I knew what I had just done, but I told myself, "Maybe not. Maybe you didn't hit the lock like you think you did." Just for shits and giggles, I walk back over to the car slowly, as if it was going to explode at any second, and peeked in. ALL. DOORS. LOCKED.

In moments like these, the mind starts going so fast that you can't really think straight. My first idiot move was to check the locked doors. Maybe today, by some act of God, they would open. Even though they were locked. Maybe for some reason. COME ON GOD, JUST MAKE THE LOCKS BROKEN! Jeez, srsly, is this really happening? Last time this happened it was Donia's fault, and it's so much easier when it's someone else's fault, isn't it?

My next stupid thoughts were "I'll call Donia". No phone-it's in the car. "I'll just tell my trainer that I can't work out with her, I'll use a payphone." No phone numbers memorized. "I'll just go home and figure it out there." No keys=no house keys, no landline phone to figure anything out you idiot!!! I, luckily, had my ID, credit cards, and bus pass on me, so I deduce that the one and only thing I can do is walk back downtown to where Donia is working and get her keys. My God, tell me her keys are not in the car in her backpack that she dropped in there before her shift because she knew I'd be picking her up anyway. If I have that, at least, going for me, I'll hug and kiss the next person I see, dirty or not. I promise.

Let me now share with you a little bit about Seattle weather. It is a common misconception that it rains all the time in Seattle. To clear this up, I will tell you that it is gloomy and cloudy and very much overcast for most of the year (we're talkin September through May). Now, when I say we have had the most beautiful summer ever, I mean it, and I have actually heard Seattlites themselves share this opinion with me over the last couple weeks. As fall rolls in, we have all been basking in the last rays of sunshine we can, and shedding a single tear for the weather to come. I bet you can guess where this is all going in my bad hour, and you guessed right. If you love irony, or just love the big ole F you this universe can thrust at you from time to time, you'll enjoy the next part of the story where I SWEAR TO GOD, INTERNET, IT STARTED RAINING TODAY IN SEATTLE. AFTER A BEAUTIFUL, RECORD-SETTING DRY SUMMER. It hasn't rained in I don't know how long, but it sure as shit rained today. The day I locked my keys in my car. And couldn't find a bus route. To take me downtown. The 30-some-odd blocks I needed to go. So I walked...

And I walked and I walked and on my walk I thought of a few things. First was the negative "I hate my life life sucks I want to cry but I won't but I really want to but I can't cuz people will see me and think I'm a crackhead all f'ed up walking down the street in the rain and SO HELP ME GOD IF ONE CRACKHEAD ASKS ME FOR MONEY I WILL SPEW THIS WHOLE PATHETIC STORY ONTO THEM UNTIL THEY ARE CRYING FOR ME AND NOT THEMSELVES ANYMORE". That is where I am at at this point. My next thoughts were good ones because, seeing as I wasn't giving in to the urge to cry, I was going to need to think positive. I had Donia as an out-I knew exactly where to find her and didn't need my phone to do it. I'd worn a hoodie and sneakers today to work because I was that lazy and didn't feel like doing more than putting on a wrinkled tee and covering it in an oversized sweatshirt. Well, at least that was going for me too. And I had my ID and money so if, God forbid, Donia had no keys for me, I had the means to drink until her shift was over. And the means to drink a lot. My last thought was that I wasn't getting to work out, but I sure as hell was getting a nice walk in for the day.

Sidenote: you may be asking yourself why I didn't call AAA. Well, readers, my membership had expired as of last month, and when I saw the $80 necessary to renew it, well now. You know that in true Leah form I procrastinated because WALKING TO THE KITCHEN AND WRITING A CHECK IS REALLY TAXING, and I probably wouldn't really need AAA, right?

Let's see, where are we now, ahhh yes. We are somewhere downtown in Seattle between the car--which, btw, does not have a parking sticker on it because I couldn't open the door to put it in the window and NO WAY IN HELL AM I PAYING FOR PARKING SO THAT SOME ASSHOLE CAN WALK BY AND, JUST FOR FUN, STEAL MY PARKING STICKER THAT'S HANGING ON THE OUTSIDE OF THE WINDOW--and Donia's work. I will not let anyone have the last laugh in this one, besides maybe the meter maid who will surely find my car and give me a ticket. That fact I am just putting out of my mind for the time being. I've got bigger fish to fry.

Walking through Seattle is always a challenge, and at this time of night people out on the streets are ready to party, and when I say people I mean those living on or near these streets who are always wasted/cracked out. They are in rare form as all of the timid 9-5ers wait at the same bus stops they do their drugs at, and it's fun to see them all scared, with their ballet flats and their umbrellas, as some drugged up woman screams, "No one want to lay next to yo scrawny ass anyway, you nuttin but a child molester, motherfucker!" Ahh, lovers quarrels. I guess crackheads need love, too. But you do remember that I am taking NO SHIT on this walk today and I am ready to go, come on hooker, give it all you got! I've never hit a bitch, but I ain't got nothin against starting my fightin history with you. Bring. It.

I make it through the storm (literally, but not literally, more to come on that soon) and finally reach the symphony hall where Donia is catering. Yes, fancy shmancy symphony hall with well dressed people saying intelligent things sipping $15 glasses of Moet. I am in the elevator and I just know I have to exit the elevator and walk past the entrance to the gathering they are having tonight, probably a high priced hou- long appetizer and wine party that cost more than any wedding I've ever attended. Wouldn't you know it, the elevator doors open and there's a lovely group of business men using words far beyond my comprehension, and me in my rain soaked hoodie, ripped jeans and sneaks. I rush into the kitchen ASAP and summon Donia over to get her keys and...drumroll...SHE HAS THE KEYS! Lord, You have not forsaken me, nor will You ever. Amen.

Some of the staff has a laugh over my debaucle, but they still really don't know all the gritty details of the last, at this point, 40 minutes. I get the keys and leave as quickly as I can, so not to embarass my girlfriend or my place of work with my wet-rat appearance any longer. Now I exit the building and, if I thought I was a wet rat before, I ain't seen nothin yet. I get outside to good news and bad news. Good first? Ok, well, my bus, the only one I know will get me to the vicinity of where I am going, is sitting outside the door, but about to leave. I run to the door and just make it. The bad news: It is downpouring. Like DOWNPOURING. Remember that little meteorology lesson I gave before on Seattle weather? Well, I forgot to tell you that it just doesn't ever rain hard here. It's always a sprinkly, drizzly rain. Keeping with the theme of the hour, you guessed correctly that it hasn't downpoured but a half a dozen times in the 2 years I have been here. Make today time #7...

Now, this bus ride is in an unfortunately busy area at an unfortunately busy time, but at least I'm dry. Or drying. The stop I need comes pretty quickly, but it is approximately another 10 blocks from where my car is. Did I mention that it. is. raining? And hard? At this point nothing is breaking me though, I have already come so far, I can see the pot of gold at the end of my rainbow. I know I will soon be home and in a snuggie. I can feel it! I can taste it! I can smell...whoa. Just then I pass by a covered bus stop and I see a woman struggling to light a cig. Then I realize, after that god-awful and unfamiliar smell that, internet, I think I just got my first wiff of crack cocaine. Srsly, I have never been in the actual presence of it before, but that smell was like no smoke I have ever smelled before. I press on because no little contact high is going to stop me now, even if I do feel woozy and sick. I get closer and closer, and yes, I know everyone is looking at me saying , "That poor girl", but more likely saying, "That scrubby girl lives on the street. She should get a job like the rest of us". I guarantee people thought this because it just so happens that where my car was parked and where I was now in my journey is an area of Seattle riddled with homeless teen and twenty something runaways who are always strung out and looking to panhandle or rob you. At this moment I could have been one of them, no one would have known better. Great, now I'm insecure too!

I reach the car and magically, and unbelievably to me, I HAVE NO PARKING TICKET! An hour and fifteen minutes, and no meter maid came by! It is pure luck I tell you, because in this exact spot a month ago I saw a man park, run into a deli, and come out under 3 minutes later to a ticket. I kid you not. I blew God a kiss and threw him a wink. He wasn't all bad today, with his little "let's see what you can handle before you crack" joke that he played on me. The keys, the rain, the lack of busses, the dodging of the crackheads. It was all a test of my patience. Well, A++ if I do say so myself, with extra credit for not bitching someone out or shedding a tear in the process.

I am finally in the car, soaked to the core, but victorious. I actually took camera photos to reiterate just how wet it was out. When I said no dramatizations, I meant it. Worst case scenario EVER!

I am now home and in dry clothes, a snuggie thrown over me for warmth. Yes, I do have to leave the house again later to get Donia, but you know one thing...I AM NOT GETTING OUT OF THAT DAMN CAR FOR ANY REASON. Keys in the ignition until I am good and ready to run back into the apt and back into the snuggie for the night. I'm not taking any more chances with this day.

Please excuse my language when I say fuck you, Tuesday, and all of your dirty wet tricks.

** I now invite the aforementioned "one-uppers" to top that, biotch!**

Monday, July 27, 2009

29 for the next 5 years, at least.

For the first time ever, I was very content--no, I actually felt the urge--to be alone on my birthday. Not alone like off-myself-when-no-one-is-looking alone, but alone in that I wanted to stay home from work and wake up when I wanted and do what I wanted and walk by myself and think about the number 29. The AGE 29. A friend pointed out that today is the first day I am 29, and the first day for many years to come that I will claim to be 29. I love that. I have seen it on TV and in the movies, and no one wants to let go of 29. So for the next year, I will enjoy it.

Someone also once told me (I have lots of friends with lots of good ideas) that you change every 7 years. You, your personality, your view on life. Think about it sometime. If this is true, then the last year has been a huge change in me, and I agree with that. Not my location or relationship or friendships or likes and dislikes, but an innate change in yourself that you can just feel. A way of seeing the world clearer, with less filters. A way of knowing that all that mattered before was just a shallow view, a terribly skewed and backwards view of what it's really all about.

I feel like I don't care what people think--of course everyone says this when they are trying to prove maturity--but it's not like that at all. It's not in a rebellious, "I'm wearing these sweats out and I don't care what people think" way, when what you're really looking for is the attention being different brings. It's in the "I don't even care if I'm uncool or that that 16 yr old Paramore fan just made a comment to her friend about how the 'No Doubt crowd' is a bit older." It's just a content and happy feeling that you have for your own life, and for what you have. You don't compare it to others' lives or try to live parallel to theirs. It's knowing that what you have is what you need and that the road that got you there was important. It was the whole point.

Last night I was happy about today being 3 hours away. I won't say I'm happy to be this age, but I know I am this age and I probably wouldn't want to go backward if given the chance. I wouldn't want to revisit the depression in college, the extreme insecurity (which lingers only but a touch), or the low self esteem that made me take my youth for granted and always look to be someone else. I see my flaws now, and though I'll never stop trying to change them to be better, I will stop letting them hold me back from being who I can at the present moment. And I don't mean to get deep for the sake of getting deep, it is just that reflection helps when you're 29. You want to know that you will be ok and that, after all the prior b-days where you thought you wouldn't make it or just wanted aging to STOP, you did go on and experienced things and would never take those things back. I know, even at this "old age", I have so much more to do and be a part of that will change me and make me stronger and more aware. That is what keeps me going.

I feel the need to be healthy and spiritual. I never needed to be healthy before, I was just lucky to have the biological makeup that I had. I have to work now, and I can't say I love it, but I see I need to do it. Religion and spirituality mean two different things to me, and I want to explore both my Christianity and my Spirit here on Earth and see how the three things can connect. The Earth is a magical place and if you don't think so just look at the other empty planets. I want to remember the little things, but not sweat them. I practice patience more than I can tell you, and I try to remember that we are all in this together, even those who are really just in it for themselves. They are the ones we need to reach out to the most and show that without others, they would be damn lonely on this big planet.

Moving away has been a big part of "growing up" for me. I always went out on my own, had my roomates and dorm and apartments and such, but I never went away and experienced another place, void of my friends and family and the comforts of home. Now some do this and others don't, and to me both sides of the argument have their points. I do know that for me to see another side of the country, another culture in and of itself, different people and views and attitudes, has brought me a new understanding of me, the world, and the part I play in it. Of course I found people way over here that were like me and had the same views, and those people were easy to befriend. It's the ones that differ from us that open our eyes to thinking and feeling differently. If you give them a chance, everyone can teach you something. I'm not even talking about being in search of a new religion or political stance or anything as drastic. It's just the small things that differ between place to place that make you not only appreciate that place, but more appreciate where you came from. I was against this move from the get go and ready to never give it a chance and beg my way home, but when I let go and rode out the experience, I got way more from it than I ever thought possible.

I like having the confidence in myself to not need to hold my parents' hands all the way through (though some nights I just wanna be home with them!). I like knowing I don't take on the persona of the person I'm dating anymore and that I am me, no matter who I am with. I like feeling like I want to be with the person I love, but not needing to be with them to survive. I like having a clean slate with no secrets or lies that are always lingering in the back of my mind. I like to know that if something happens, I can count on me first and them second if need be That I can get myself through, but that I can reach out if I need a little help.

I like knowing that after all these years, though only few have emerged victorious, I have some lingering good friends I can count on for anything. I have a best friend who is still here and we have changed together and still know how to use each other when we need a boost. You never know who you'll end up with when you are out partying and working and in school and meeting all sorts of people from all walks of life. I am happy to say that I have been able to hold on to the best of them, by the grace of God, and their graces as well.

Sometimes I still feel that little girl's fears come out and I just want to run and hide. Sometimes the insecurities of my teenage years emerge and bring me down to places I never wanted to see again. And then there are the struggles that came in my early twenties where I sometime felt as if I were circling and circling only to find I could not pinpoint exactly what I was looking for. Dizzy from circling and booze and conflicting feelings and views coming from the people around me. Where I was disappointed every time I thought I had found IT, only to be heartbroken when I was told that this wasn't it yet again. I feel these things now because no one can ever be truly whole or happy or okay, but I deal with them as I know fit. Without these things we would not keep working at ourselves, nor would we see how far we have come and how proud we should be.

Next year I hope to be closer to home for my 30th. In part because I'm almost ready to be there again, and also because I will need one big crazy ass party with lots of booze to keep me from going insane and crying for weeks. It will be one part party, one part suicide watch, and all parts love and fun. I am ready for adulthood, today on my 29th. I can't say I was ready yesterday, but this morning I woke up and made the decision to sign up, put on my "Hello my name is" sticker, and participate in the rest of life. To be rid of my 20's and prepare for the ever popular 30's. Is 30 the new 20? I'll never know and I'll never tell cuz I'm 29 from here on out...

Wednesday, June 10, 2009


I haven't been inspired lately by too much...too much positive stuff that is. And though this is going to sound like a very negative situation that has inspired this blog, I can't take it as that at all. Maybe if you read on, you'll see what I mean...

We found out that my Gramma, a.k.a. Rev. Barbara Mattscheck/Barb/Gram/mom/Pastor Barbara, has cancer again. She beat breast cancer about 10 years ago, but the doctors are saying now she has a lump in her lung. The whereabouts and specifics of this cancer are not my main goal to get across here today, though. The point of this post is that you are only as sad, sick, helpless and depressed as you let yourself be. I realized the power of positive thinking and living a while ago, and I've never looked back since. My Gram is another one of those people, but to such a higher degree, I don't know if I'll ever get there. She does not work alone, but puts all of her faith and belief in God. I know this is what gets her through the day, and what will get her through this battle as she forges ahead.

My mom broke the news to me about the cancer. My mom was not the one to explain the situation to me, though, as she was visibly upset and unable to get through it without crying. She handed the phone to Gram. Well, wouldn't you know, this woman got on the phone and acted as if she were going to tell me a fun story or announce wonderful news! She did not sound like a woman who was just told she had cancer at all, which is what helped me through the phone call. She went on very matter-of-factly, explaining to me what they'd found and what was going to be done. She talked about chemo with the positivity of someone talking about a lovely picnic in the park. She never got down with her tone of voice or even told me to worry or not to worry. To her this was another thing life had thrown at her, and she was gonna deal with it and move on. Now this is not to say Gram is not in touch with reality; in fact she is a very intelligent and rational woman. She just will not let the fear of this disease get to her. I am sure she is afraid in a way, but she has such neverending and unyielding faith, she doesn't even go to that scary place. She believes that the Lord will get her through this and that everything will be ok, and that's all the rest of us should believe as well.

Maybe it is because I'm way out here in Seattle and don't see her all the time, but I just can't get afraid over this. Something in me says everything is going to be ok, that there is no way she is not strong enough for this. I wish I was there now to be with my family, who is in need of comforting right now, and it's times like this that I regret being way over here. I will see Gram in July, probably after she has already started chemo, and it will be very, very hard, but I know what I will find when I get there. A positive woman, without fear, who has put all of her health and wellness in God's hands.

I have to say, without offending the very few men in my family, that I know and have always known that Gram is the head of our little family clan. She is the matriarchal leader that we look to when things are bad, or even good. She has been a pastor her whole life, bringing the Word of God to people far longer than I can even remember or imagine! She has devoted her life to helping those in need, whether it be physically, mentally, or spiritually. Her aura just oozes faith and love and compassion. So many look to her not only as their spiritual teacher, but as a quasi mother, grandmother, or friend. Even the occupation that she chose for herself was not only selfless but rewarding! Dog shows and dog breeding brought in money, of course, but think of all those people who came to buy puppies that they and their family could love and enjoy for years to come! Nothing says love like chihuahuas and Jesus!

I have always looked at my Gram, not as a timid and subservient woman from another generation, but as a strong woman who was ahead of her time. She is independent, and maybe a little pushy in stores, but she does what is best for herself and others and doesn't compromise herself. Just this past Christmas she had me and my mother on stealth missions in the middle of a fabric store, fleeing a potentially angry mob of consumers who would have stopped at nothing less than beating us to a pulp if they saw us leave with the items we came for hours before they would receive theirs (It's a long story, don't ask!). It's always an adventure going out with Gram, but her mantra is "there's always a way around everything". Some would think this is the mantra of a seasoned criminal, but I say "nope, it's just my Gram". There are endless stories I could tell of being with my Gram and the rest of the family, visiting and sharing and having some good ole fashioned family fun. You probably wouldn't believe some of the wackiness that has ensued in the past when Gram was involved, but some of my favorite past times are when these things occurred, or when we all sat around and reminisced about the stunts she's pulled. It's more fun than any bar I've been to with friends, any date night out at the movies, or any other mindless task we fill our days with. Family will just always beat all that other filler out.

Currently Gram is leading her own church, as well as feeding and clothing the homeless and prostitutes in RI. What more could you ask for in a human being than to use their time and energy to help others? When I first heard about Gram's mission to go out and help people on the streets of the city, it was through a request that I give her all the clothes I didn't want anymore instead of throwing them out. When I questioned her on what she would do with them, she answered, "The prostitutes can wear them". At first I was appalled and offended that she thought my wardrobe was fit for a prostitute, but then I realized what she was doing. She was trying to get them off the streets and out of this line of work, which for most I'm sure was almost a necessity in order to just stay alive out there on the streets. Of course I made the obvious hooker jokes at first, but when I stopped to think about what my own Gramma was out there doing, I was amazed at the person she was. Brave and giving and doing the work that the Lord put her here to do.

I can't even begin to understand why things like this happen to good people. People with such a positive influence in so many people's lives. People who could never be replaced. I am not saying that bad people deserve anything like cancer, but I am certain my Gramma doesn't for sure.

She will tell you herself to just pray and believe. I'll never forget being 8 or 9 and struggling with asthma and my Gramma laying hands on me and saying "By the stripes of Jesus, I am healed". She taught me that Bible verse and, at the time (and even still a little now) I didn't really know what "stripes of Jesus" were. I pictured a zebra whenever I prayed that prayer in my bed, and I'll be honest, when I utter this prayer now, I still think zebra. The Lord works in mysterious ways, I guess...

When people get sick they can either look to God and blame him and ask why, which was my first reaction. Your other option is to turn to Him and pray for strength and His power of healing. So I ask you now: pray for her, have faith, believe that she will beat this and get through it with help from the Lord. Be there for her when she doesn't feel well, be a support and a comfort to her when she needs it. I will do it from far away, but I will do all I can. This is not anything but a struggle she will get through with the love of her family and friends, and a bit of that faith that we should all be lucky enough to learn to have and to hold on to.

I think it's sad that people don't always know how highly we think of them. It's times like these that make us think and wonder and appreciate what we have. We can question and be confused, but what we can't do is lose faith in God and the power he Has when we believe...

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Vote no. Save our ship.

So it is one day after the Supreme Court deliberated and looked again at the decision to keep same-sex marriage banned in California. This means it is one day after the SC pissed on the bill and then kicked it ‘til it cried…again.

You know, today marks a day where a lot of people (Right wing? Religious? Topless Miss Californias all over the world?) are celebrating with a non-alcoholic drink and a dance party consisting of equal parts boys and girls, all covered from neck to feet in ugly garb and keeping 6 inches from each other at all times. I'm sure it's a hoot. Good for them, you know. Maybe they are right. The more I think about it, the more it seems like gay marriage IS a bad idea. My God, think of the repercussions! Let me lay them out for you, one by one, so you too can really decide if we want the sanctity of marriage to be ruined by these awful, awful gays.

First off, all those arguments about the economy, blah blah blah. Do you seriously think that a bunch of gays are gonna throw huge bashes for weddings? With glorious, expensive, and lavish themes? Really? Come on now, if anyone knows the gays, it's me, and they do not like to do things up in such a way that you're blinded by glitter and sequins and diamonds. They are very modest and plain individuals who will not be putting any money into the economy if they are, in fact, finally (FINALLY) granted the right to have a wedding and marry. And the lesbians, come on, they are even less lavish. What, are we expecting them to have enormous guest lists or something? All those mouths to feed? The lesbian community is NOT HUGE or TIGHT KNIT and they don't ALL KNOW EACH OTHER, so just forget it. There's no way our economy would make money off of either of these groups. No marriage for them.

Secondly, I think that the gays could only ruin what we have already established as a successful and sacred tradition. Once they're married, they'll then start having sex, which is exactly what we're trying to avoid! Straight couples wait for the day that they are bonded through the ties of marriage before they ever even think about having intercourse! If we allow gays the same right, all of a sudden they'll start losing their virginities on their wedding nights, just like all of the straight people who are following the Lord's request to wait until that time. No way do we want to allow that! If straight people can wait until marriage and resist the temptation of sex for all those years, then they deserve marriage be kept for themselves and away from the gays.

And another thing… I am so sick and tired of all these gay couples complaining they can't get married. How long have they been together, like a week? The sanctity of marriage is always upheld by straight people and let me tell you, they would never abuse it by eloping because the girl is knocked up, or because they got wasted and thought it was a great idea to get hitched. Never. The gays would probably do this. You are trying to tell me that there are gay couples that have been together for 10, 15, 25 years at this point and now want marriage because they have kids and are getting older and want to make sure their partner and children are protected should anything happen to them? B.S. They would never abide by the traditions straight people uphold of having a full courtship, meeting the parents when the time is right, staying abstinent, going through marriage classes, and giving their courtship ample time to be sure that what they are doing is the absolute right decision for both parties. The gays would probably mess it up and do crazy shit like get married for money, or for status, or because they have run out of options and don't think they'll ever find anyone. What if they start arranging marriages with teens! Can you imagine some cultish thing like that happening??!! They'd probably try to marry soldiers to get the monetary perks of being an army wife/husband. They'd probably troll websites looking for rich men and then get plastic surgery and dye their hair bleach blond and pretend they loved a man 50 years their senior just to inherit his estate. Damn those gays and their sneaky reasons for getting married. Straight people would NEVER sink so low.

The last thing I have to say is that gays marrying will totally mess up the family model as we know it. Families need two parents and I can't see two gays staying together after kids. I mean, I work hard for my money, and I am so tired of my tax dollars going toward these gays who just have, like, 6 kids and can't take care of them! Why are they so irresponsible? Why do they keep getting pregnant by accident? All my tax dollars going to their welfare payments? Birth control, gays, birth control. Why can't they take on the good practices of the straight people and wait and plan and make sure that they want the children and that they don't have multiple accidents. Straight people plan it out so well that they know, like, the exact day and time of conception! They don't just go out and get drunk and knocked up and then either neglect their kids or have abortions. Now I believe abortion is a woman's right... but really lesbians, let's stop using it as birth control, eh? I mean, I wish that gays understood how important children are and how they need loving parents. You don't see one straight parent taking off on the other and leaving their kids to wonder why mommy or daddy left them, do you? And please, gays, if you're gonna have all these unwanted kids, please put them up for adoption. Do you even understand how important adoption is to parents who can't have biological kids?

America, stand by your decision to not allow gays to marry. They're not even real people, anyway, so how can their relationships be real? Really they're just actors and designers or characters on TV, you don't know any real gays, so just stick to your guns. They don't stay together forever like marriage says to, like straight people do. They won't take the vows as seriously as the straight people do either. They will just take advantage of this sacred rite that the straight people have cultivated and nurtured for thousands of years. Please, just read this and don't think it through much

Saturday, April 11, 2009

A lesson in love and sparkly onesies

10 years ago, a girl named Britney Spears came on the pop scene (or should I say CREATED IT), and turned the world upside down. Then she said "OOPS", and all was forgiven.
When I finally realized that my "hate" for Brit was actually jealousy that festered because of my ex bf's love for her, I was able to get past it and get on the Brit train. The I love Brit train. The train that derails all others.
The concert in Tacoma (an hour outside of Seattle) the other night was amazing! My tickets came via Santa, aka Donia Claus, in Dec. 08 so I had 4 long months to wait for the concert. The day finally came last Thursday and we were off to the show, hours early so as to not hit traffic and get a good cheap parking spot (here is the evidence that times have changed and I'm very, very old). Being 2 hours early we went to a "mall" of sorts, that actually was an old train depot or something. Inside it was like a makeshift Fennual Hall in Boston, but like 1/100th of that and dirty. Downtown Tacoma was weird, it was gross, and frankly, I would be much more nervous to walk through there after dark than downtown Seattle. It just seemed like it had this evil aura, like people don't care about you and would jump you and beat you for your purse and phone. And then, just for good measure, maybe finish you off with a stabbing.
After eating at one of the strangest Mexican "restaurants" (a glorified fast food joint with beer and wine), we walked back up the road to the arena to get in line. With only 20 minutes til the doors opened, we wanted to get inside and get inside FAST! Upon arriving, we had noticed some "Jesus freaks" standing outside the arena. There were about a dozen, all spread out in pairs about 30 feet apart. They were holding signs that said things like "Trust Jesus" and "Fear God", and they were yelling and screaming at people to stop "idolizing" Britney. They were harassing young girls, some no older than 16, and telling them that because their hair was dyed and their face was made up, that they were committing "idolotry" (huh?) and that Britney served as a graven image they were praising instead of God. One girl just giggled and said, "You think I look and act like Britney? Thanks!" The protester's message was obviously lost in translation.
So many feelings about this. Number one, I can't help but feel a familiarity with "Christians" like this because I was raised attending a church that used some of the same scare tactics as these people. I remember a time I brought a high school bf to my church while I talked to a friend. There was nothing going on in the church that day, but we did come across the youth pastor while we were there. As I spoke to my friend, I noticed that the youth pastor had caught my bf's ear. I approached them and heard that the pastor was saying things like, "Why don't you believe? If you don't listen to me and believe YOU'LL GO TO HELL." Before I knew it my bf was attempting to get away from this man and as he was literally running out of the church, the pastor was still screaming to repent and believe or burn in Hell. I chased him out and he was visibly shaken and angry and disgusted with what had happened. He was so angry, and all I could do was cry and apologize and try to tell him that I wasn't crazy and neither were they. He was NOT buying that. This guy now had such a terrible and untrue picture of what a Christian was, and it was going to be very hard for him to ever trust anyone that tried to preach to him again.
New statistics show that 15% of people on the East coast don't identify with any religion. On the surface, some would say that the world is just getting more evil and that that is the reason God is so obsolete in some people's lives. Think about it, though: God hasn't changed. The Word is still the same. So why are there so many less believers? I think it has something to do with the messengers and the persons being entrusted with spreading the Word of God. These death and scare tactics that Christians are using now are turning people off and doing the exact opposite of what they set out to do. NOT ONE PERSON stopped to talk to those people or ask them about Jesus or what the Bible said. Not one of them got a chance to even embrace Christianity truly because they were AT A POP CONCERT BEING YELLED AT BY CRAZIES. I just had this funny image of God putting his head in his hands and sighing with defeat. This is not what he had in mind when he said, "Go into all the world and preach the Gospel". These people were simply laughable and not to be taken seriously.
The crowd was predominantly girls with dyed blonde hair and fake tans between the ages of 12 and 21, with a few gay boys, drag queens, with girls my age and a bit older sprinkled in. This was not the time, nor the place, for a sermon. It certainly wasn't fair to call Britney "evil" or talk about how she doesn't deserve children or life at all. It wasn't right to call people out on how they were dressed (not at all inappropriately) or on how they were at a concert because they held Britney above God. I don't know about the other 10,000 people, but when I have a problem or need spiritual guidance in life, I don't fold my hands and pray to Britney Spears.
I can only say that I wish people would take what religion they've learned and explore it for themselves. I wish those that were "brainwashed" by corrupt leaders would be led to question the teachings, find answers for themselves, and READ THE BIBLE instead of taking someone else's word for it. In a world full of internet lies, scams and fact checkers everywhere you turn, do we really wanna take a chance on these pastors who are just as twisted and money hungry as corporate bankers? I feel like the only way to find the truth in spirituality is to make the journey yourself.
If these people really knew what they were doing they'd stop badgering and start engaging. They'd ask people what they believed and, after really listening, offer up their opinion and belief and leave it open to the person's interpretation. They would have real FAITH, which is the one thing they are lacking when they preach. They don't get the word out there and then leave it to God like they should, they push and push and push until you're afraid not to believe, or you're just so pissed off you write it off altogether. We weren't put here to beat it into people, we were put here to open eyes and leave it to God. I don't think His plan was to have a bunch of followers who feared him so much that they didn't even know what they were agreeing to believe in.

All this from a Britney concert. Who knew.

I am so glad I got to see her again. This tour blew the Onyx Hotel tour out of the water. She worked her ass off and did stuff only a real pro could do. She looked amazing, and I would say she sounded amazing too, but only because she sang NOT ONE WORD LIVE. It's ok with me though. She is a performer and I definitely got what I wanted--an insane performance.

I can't believe this Britney is the same Brit we saw in the last two years fall apart in front of our eyes. It says a lot for mental health meds, a good parent who uses tough love, and ridding your life of people who aren't in it for you. I think about a time when I felt out of control and was hurting and acting out because I had no idea what to do or where to go. I can't imagine doing that in front of millions of people, and then having to come back and prove myself again to all those people.

That's why she is Britney and I am not. She seemed to be having a lot of fun and I hope she only continues on a good path.

And I pray for those "Christians" who are fighting the good fight and protesting Britney with hate and anger. Come on, guys. Really? There are way bigger fish to fry than an innocent pop princess with a weave and a girlish southern accent.

Can I get an Amen?

Sunday, February 22, 2009

HANG me OVER a bridge and push

Ok, can I be honest for a sec? Good, honesty to come in 3,2,1...

I may still be tipsy from last night this morning, maybe it's because when you throw up it affects you in the same way it did going down? Doesn't matter, point is I am sick and it's all my fault and I'm never drinking again...blah blah blah.

This is hopefully an old skool-ish blog for y'all about nothing and everything and nothing all over again.

10. All the windows are open and it's February
9. The house is a MESS
8. More dishes in the sink than in the cupboards.
7. The hair in the shower drain could pass as a small redheaded animal
6. Garbage out on the deck is hazardous to humans and animals alike. I may be fined soon.
5. I stayed out past 10 pm last night.
4. Lots of uninterrupted internet time
3. Reality shows for 4 days
2. Same clothes I was wearing Thursday
1. Britney CD has been on repeat 24/7 since I dropped her at the airport!

So it may seem like she's controlling and doesn't let me live my life as I want to...

yep, that's it.

She will be back today, which means I have to muster up enough sobriety and stomach control to go get her from the airport. I guess it's do-able, seeing as she makes the car payments and allows me to live my messy life in the Civic.

Can I just make a shout-out right now? Mind you, I realize I am immature and a total dork, but think of it this way: the girl is a year and a half younger than me! (yes, I know this). I am, of course, speaking of Miss Brit Brit, aka Britney Spears. She is amazing, y'all, and I don't use that word all too often. Ok, usually only about really good nachos, but never about people. People have nothing on nachos. (Did I really just write that? Yes I did.) I have heard her CD now at least 30 times on repeat since January and I'm totally sold. Totally. Sold. At first I wasn't impressed, thought they all sounded the same, but now I can tell them apart as if they were my very own octuplets that I couldn't afford but loved with all the crazy in my heart. I guess that pretty much explains how I feel about B. Spears. She is my hero. (I wrote "herp" by accident first. Freudian slip?) I will see her in April and I am very tempted to go to the concert either donning the old skool "Baby one more time" outfit or the new "Circus" ringleader costume. Either way, there'll be pics. So what if just me and my gay male friends are into her. We're talkin guys who taught me to apply bronzer and who can always tell when I'm on my period. That's love.

Point: listen to her CD. (or don't. I'll just die a slow, sad death)

Another thing I desperately want to promote: Twilight. Again, I know, I have the mind of a preteen with the boobs of a woman, but I neeeeed you to read this. And this isn't the same as the Brit CD, that I just want you to hear it cuz I love it and I secretly know none of you will fall for it (hey, did I just say that?? regardless--LISTEN TO BRITNEY!) No, you need to read these books. You need to see the movie. Twice. Like me. With plans to see it for a third time in the theaters before it goes to DVD, which you will buy the moment it goes on sale, no matter what the asking price. You, at first, will not want to make it the whole way through the first book, but at some point it will hit you and you will be in love. And by in love I don't mean you will wish you were a vampire and give anything and everything to actually meet Edward and make him yours and live happily ever after as the love of a vampires life. That's my job.
P.S. I make sure that I know where Robert Pattinson is at all times. This week he is in L.A. Soon enough he'll be in Vancouver filming. I will be close by with a camera and a vial of my own blood (as a gift to him, of course). Angelina style.

Was it really worth it?

Was she everything that you were looking for

To feel like a man?

I hope you know that you can’t come back

Cause all we had is broken like Shattered Glass.

You’re gonna see me in your dreams tonight

My face is gonna haunt you all the time

I promise that you gon’ want me back

When your world falls apart like shattered glass

Come on! Brilliance! Where was this song 5 years ago?!! Don't you wanna go through this JUST TO DEDICATE THIS SONG TO SOMEONE?? Fine, me neither, but it would be super cool.

Ok, last shameless plug, and this one is for those of you who like GOOD music, and by that I mean it's far from Britney. It's actual brilliance and this woman is amazing (like nachos) and talented and beautiful and I saw her live this year and wanted to go have a beer with her after and have her sing me to sleep (as I laid on the bed, she on the floor). Her name is Rachel Yamagata. Don't let the name hold you back. A-mazing. "Sunday Afternoon" is my new fav song right now. She's like Tori Amos sounding, except you don't have to try to figure out what the fuck her lyrics could possibly mean. She has real songs and real stories and if you've ever been hurt, you'll totally relate to her like Whoa. I would follow her around the country if I were rich and slightly tapped.

I would like to thank Jenna W-H for letting me rip a fence down yesterday and use my muscles and tools, and for the juicy and delicious chicken sandwich she rewarded me with. It was a fun end to my weekend alone. Smashing things just makes you feel alive and necessary and a little dangerous. Now I know why rockstars tear hotel rooms to shit. Any aggression I had is now gone, and left to the wood panels I hacked away at and then threw to the wayside. Like an old, worthless lover. Except I've never hit a lover with a crowbar. Yet.

Wow, I've been sitting here an hour tick tick ticking away at the keyboard and I feel I've accomplished nothing. Maybe I'll start a monthly newsletter to catch everyone (the three of you who care) up on the comings and goings of my life out here on the West Coast.
Would you read it? (circle yes or no)

I must go now, for the sole purpose of vomiting again. TMI, I know, but I need someone to suffer with. Misery loves company, after all. And stomach bile especially loves others to be present when it rears its ugly yellow head.

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Where have all the Grammys gone?

I'll tell you where, to some place in cyberspace where it's quicker to see who won and there's less "get off the stage, time's up" music to have to answer to. "We must cut down on the showtime (just under 4 hours) so let's GET RID OF THE AWARDS AND MAKE IT A CONCERT!" More on this later...

This year's Grammy recap begins where all Grammy's begin...no, not the mold they're made from, though speaking of mold (and molds), our opening performer is not only old, but he is one of a kind. I of course mean the smashing performance by none other than U2. Led by that adorable little Bono (it's Bahn-o, not BONE-O! Don't make me giggle), who I am happy to see is still able to jump around like the 50-something he was back in the 80's. We can all see where they have gone with this performance: in Ozzy-mumbling style, Bono is starting to age (or get lazy) and it makes for a difficult time understanding his lyrics. Think fast! Let's put the lyrics up behind him! He'll never know, I promise, he'll just see the audience singing every word and be pleased as Irish Whiskey Punch. Let me just say, grandpa never looked so chic...and his eyes! He has revealed his eyes and they're...well...adorned with eyeliner? Hmm, who knew that this whole time he has been hiding this sucidal-angst-ridden-emo-teen persona...

WHitnayyyyyyyyyy! Hey grrrrrrrrllll, wha's up!? Looks like miss thang 86'd Bobby and cocaine, subbed 25 lbs and a new stylist and came up with voila! Perfection. Seems good all around, except maybe for her out-of-work dealer. And btw, Whit, get off of Clive "He's still Alive?" Davis's jock...
Best R&B Album: Of course they had to give it to Jennifer Hudson. Haven't heard the album, so I can't say if it is even warranted, but her acceptance had to make you a little teary-eyed. "My family down here, and in Heaven..."
The Rock...er, sorry, Dwayne Johnson. Yeah, apparently that's his real name. I'm sorry, but if you've seen his movies or listened to him chirp like a school girl, you will agree that he is still affected, still cheesy, and still useless, except in a Speedo and grease.

Justin Mothaf'in Timberlake (he likes when I call him that)! Nice zoot suit, J.T. Here he is pretending to love soul music because he's from Memphis. He brings out Al Green to do a duet. Sorry, dude, up until Justin sang his verse, you were the shit. Now, not so much. Now I'm not hating on the legendary Mr. Green, but I just realized that he doesn't have the lung capacity for a full song anymore, thus, cue Timberlake. Funny how they introduced 4 different musical acts/artists for this performance, what a load that was. Keith Urban=on backup guitar (for 3 seconds on camera, amp not even plugged in) and Boys II Men? What? Whe...oh. The backup singers. Oh yeah, now I recognize the heavy one. That was a cruel trick you played on them, Grammys. But touche.

Coldplay. They always announce Coldplay and then you see...Chris Martin. Yes, I know he's the lead singer, but what must the rest of the band think? "Ok guys, here we go, big Grammy moment! What? Wait here? Oh, they're not ready? Well what's wrong with the piano? Ok, hey guys, just one second, Chris has to fix something {piano begins} Doh! They got us again!" And Jay-Z? For a split second I thought there'd be an uncomfortable moment when Chris would gesture to a stage hand and someone would have to tell Jiggaman, "Yo, dude, you're not on yet. Stop rapping in the middle of Coldpl...er, I mean, Chris Martin's song." Shortly after the accidental rap solo, we finally see the band (their eyes are red, yes. You can see they've been crying...) in all their "Beatle's getup" glory (p.s. before C.M. apologized to Sir McC. for the ripoff of Sgt. Pepper's, I noted the similarity. Just for the record). Oh Chris, sweetie, no. Gwyneth and the Queen may like your exposed, furry happy trail, but we as Americans don't. And we as Americans know all so pull down your shirt--no, come on--further! Good British lad. Thank you.

Keith "I married up" Urban. Look, Nicole, he's dressed and sober! That's all I really have for him.
Donia: "He's British!?"
Leah: "He's Australian. Boy, you really have a hard time with that one*, don't you?"
*she's infamous for mixing up the accents.

Carrie Underwood is revealed and what do we see? Another beautiful flowing dress, legs I'd give my right arm for (but then, what good would the legs do me?), and perfect "just jumped off the back of my hot boyfriend's motorcycle after our hot sex" hair. And what is this? She's singing a song about being slutty. Check and check.
Nash: "She's the cat's meow, mommy"
Leah: "Keep it in your pants, little one"
Oh and p.s., Carrie: Watch out for the low-Grammy-cam-upskirt shot. All the men sure are {wink}.

Here's one for you, mom. SUGARLAND WINS! I know you like them so congrats. I heard the 10 sec clip of their song and I may be teary-eyed. Wait, no...just salsa in my eye. So close...

Song of the Year: Wow! This is like the second award in like, 45 minutes! Just barrelin through, aren't we?! I'm rooting for Jason Mraz cuz he's the only one who sat down and wrote his song all by himself. Wait for it, wait for it...Coldplay! Surprise fucking* surprise.
*It's for reasons like this that I graced you with the Sugarland shoutout, ma.

Kid Rock comes out in all his trailer park glory and I am about to trash him, still wanna, but I can't help but love the politically charged lyrics of the song "Amen". Guess I can always count on him for blunt honesty {cue mugshot pic}. Oh, I spoke too soon, here's the trashtastic "Sweet Home Alamama" knockoff shit. Like clockwork.
Donia: "Remember when he first came out, I thought he was some trashy old guy"
Leah: "He was. He still is."

Taylor and Miley sit stool to stool on the middle stage. They perform a song about how hard it is to be "15". Hm, Miley, you must have left out how hard it is to be 15 and not have sexy pics of you leaked by your fake boyfriends that your dad allows down in your room because you're way too famous for supervision. And Tay, you forgot the verse about how hard it was to have that plastic surgery performed by magical elves to make you go from your real age of 35 to 15. My interpretation of this performance is that they are like the angel and the devil doing a duet; only the devil is a pretentious cocktease and the angel has no life behind her dead, heavily made-up eyes.

Robert Plante? Or is that Willy Wonka in leather and heavy metal rockstar curls?
{scratches head}

J. Hud again. Fitting song. Refuse to mock her wardrobe choice in any way for fear of Hell.

AAAAAAuuuuuugggggggggggggHHHHHHH!!!!!!!! {high pitched scream, of course} THE JOOOOONAAASSSS BROTHHHEEEEERRRS! AAAAAUUUUUGGGGGGHHHHHH {frightened pitch this time} STEVIEEEEEE WONDERRRR! Wait, what? What have you done, Grammys? The man has written hundreds of songs over the last 40 years of a magnificent career and he just uttered the chorus to "Burnin Up"?

{sly laugh} Genius.

In an off-color sidenote: Joe Jonas {aka "the cute one"} was overheard saying (of Mr. Wonder) to his brothers {aka "the other cute one" and "the less than stellar" one}, "Yeah, he's pretty cool, but he looks like a total douche trying to pull off the whole I'm-so-cool-in-sunglasses-indoors thing. That's so 2008".

Coldplay AGAIN! I can't decide on their new name: Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band of Hobo Gay Men or just Teletubbies 2.

Katy Perry...let me tell you who's not proud right about now: her parents, her pastor, her singing coach, her stylist (whom she deceived when she went behind his back to wear fruit), lesbians, her hair stylist, me. She is awful at performing, as evident by the senseless jumping and mediocre-at-best dancing. Fruit, sticky, sweet, we get it. You're a whore. Who is proud right now? The Grammys (though they should'nt be) and her ex bf (for taking out the trash when he did).

Kanye and Estelle come out, middle stage again, and perform their not awful/not great hit "American Boy". I thought she was fantastic, and well, you can't really mess up rapping as long as you're 30% sober, so he was good too. What was not good? Her paper mache dress and well, if I have to say this then you're a dumbass: Kanye's whole being. Get a side by side clip of Kanye tonight and Michael Jackson at the Grammys circa 1984 and you'll have to look for Michael's discolored skin patches to tell them apart. Does this mean that in 20 years Kanye will be accused of and tried for child molestation??!! HIStory repeats itself (and is also one of my fav MJ albums).

"Hey Kanye, Michael called. He wants his clothes and hair back so he doesn't have to run around in jammie pants and a surgical mask anymore. Oh, sorry, I didn't know you purchased those at the Neverland Ranch estate sale along with Bubbles and the llama. We were wondering where those two ran off too..."

Morgan Freeman comes out and says he's friends with Kenny Chesney. I have to break it to you that THERE IS NO WAY THEY ARE FRIENDS, that's just what the teleprompter said.

***Country performance=bathroom break.***

Oh Lord Jesus, no. Herbie Hancock is back!
Ooh, no performance. Close call.

I wonder if Queen Latifah cried a little bit inside when she had to say "The Rap Pack" so convincingly. She's classy enough to know that it was STUPID, I just know she is (she was in "Chicago" for Christ's sake! And that cancels out "Taxi" and "Bringin Down the House", trust me). I also wonder if Sammy, Dean, Frank and the other guy all turned over in their graves when such a comparison was made. I know I did (what?)
So let's analyze this ensemble cast of characters, shall we?

M.I.A.: Really, M.I.A., really? Today is your due date, yet you insist on running around, girating your birthing hips, and squatting with your legs open in gangsta stance, or as I call it, "Holy shit, the baby's gonna fall out!" stance. And you get up there with these clowns? I love em all, but they're clowns in the sense that none of them like to get dirty and I guarantee none of them were even in the same state as their baby mommas when they were poppin out slimy, amniotic fluid covered kids. They will run screaming should your water break, and you'll be left to your own devices, as well as the devices of the front row of screaming preteen Hannah Montana fans. Good luck. Oh, and because you're so maternally disabled right now, I won't mentioned that just before you turned around to welcome the guys in, you lipsynced the wrong verse to your song. Mums the word. {wink}

"Hey Kanye, yeah, Michael called back. Since you won't be returning his things, he's like to know if you would serve as his decoy when he's out in public to hide his withering face from the paparazzi, babysit his kids (they'll never know the difference, we'll say you have a "tan"), and/or play him in a new biopic about his life. Or, should I say a biopic he wrote leaving out all the weird stuff and making him look really cool still. Just have your agent call my agent".
I think I heard Kanye throw a straight up hissy about how he wanted to do his part alone on stage while the other guys waited in the wings. Doesn't like to share anything, that one...

Lil Wayne: Our first sight of him tonight, and you know I'm gonna be biased, but he was the best rapper and the cutest dressed. And the prettiest and the shiniest and he smelled the best. And he was the highest, with the most warrants in the most states. I <3 him.

T.I.: not a huge fan, not so impressed with his performance, and definitely not impressed with the fact that he couldn't even get his momma to do up his bowtie (sorry, Donia)

Jay-Z: Now it's your turn, man. Next time, listen closer to your wife when she's barking orders at you. She didn't say GO! she said NO! Don't make Beyonce beat you!*

One last thing, do you think these guys were as freaked out about M.I.A.'s bumble bee outfit as the rest of the audience? Silly brits and their silly outfits. Yes, Coldplay, I'm still looking at you...

Beautiful beautiful Kate Beckinsale, what I wouldn't give to look like you for a day. Oh, wait, nevermind. What was the hike you just did to your falling down dress. It's the same mindless hike up you see a drunk promgoer do to her dress when her strapless bra is making its way down to her waist because she's so sweaty from the ecstasy and the dancing with the hormone-riddled boys. Classy. Next time, risk the wardrobe malfunction and wait til you get backstage.

Next, Sir Paul McCartney {said in my best British accent} comes out with Dave Grohl. Now let me ask you this: is S.P.McC. really amazing, or is he amazing because he is the only Beatle left standing (I know, I know, but Ringo doesn't count). I'll let you chew on that for a little while.
And in other news, I miss Nirvana.

Hey, look at this, another award, this time for Best Male Pop Vocal. This one goes to JOHN MAYER, who I not only love for his music, but his humor and wit. (Youtube "John Mayer and Ellen sing Just Dance. Hi-larious!). I'd like to thank Bailey for turning me on to John way back when I was so against him. And for the free tickets to his concert. I'd also like to thank God for letting John be born, and to Jen Aniston who keeps him in line and sexed up, so as his fans may enjoy him all the more.

Sugarland and Adele did a dual performance, which meant Sugarland got their own spot for a full song, and Adele got to sing the chorus to her song and have Sugar (of Sugarland) sing backup. Aaaah, there's just too many "Amy Winehouse, but fatter" jokes, so little time.

**At this point I see that only J.T./T.I., Robert Plante and Alison Krauss, Radiohead and Neil Diamond are left to perform. Besides the first one, I'm finding it hard to hang on here. I've endured many hours of these shenanigans at this point, and they certainly didn't seem to save the best for last. I can't quit now, though, not when I owe it to my 3 fans to write them a complete blog, and not when I owe to myself for enduring such painful TV. I've put blood, sweat, and tears into this (srsly, though, I did. I got a papercut taking the original blog notes, Donia turned the heat WAY too high up, and, well, you remember the salsa incident.). I will press on...

Radiohead: I just don't get them. I mean, did I miss the window on them or something? I've always wished I was a fan, but I really don't see what people see in them. At this point I figure you can't teach an old dog new tricks. I am the dog; Radiohead is the "Roll over" I'll never get...

**NEWSFLASH: It was just speculated that Lil Wayne will come out and perform again! I knew one performance couldn't be it, he was just too good this year. I won't get my hopes up too much, though; this show has been going on a long time now. He had to have taken a smoke break by now, and depending on how much he ingested, he may forget to rap at all. I foresee him sitting in the middle of the stage, staring at his shiny shoes, an awkward silence in the crowd while he's dragged offstage by security. All the while giggling...

J.T.: If you propose to me, I promise, like the song says, "the old me will be dead and gone", and we can live a life of happiness and sex(yback) in your big mansion.
T.I.: If you propose, I promise to say yes strictly based on fear. I know about the gun charges...

Of course Obama has a Grammy. Why wouldn't he? All you musicians out there bust your asses for a lifetime in the hopes of receiving an esteemed award, and all he has to do is waltz in and SPEAK NORMALLY and he wins. He probably didn't even write the speech he read. Malia did. I guess it's a sectet shout-out to all those rappers in the audience who single handedly got him elected. No, really, they did. Just ask Diddy yourself.
So now little douchybag Grammy man goes on to say "Yes We Can" 5 times in his poorly written speech. The context that it is used not only is ridiculous, it is irrelevant to the show, and life. If he had any pride he'd go out back and shoot himself for the fool he has made of the Grammys at
But before he offs himself, he pleads to Obama (who must owe him, he gave him a Grammy, afterall) to appoint a Secretary of the Arts. A what? Fine, I'm on board, but if the nominee is not Suge Knight, with Elton John as his successor when he f's up and kills someone (again), then I'm not voting.

Smokey Robinson? Again? Didn't I rant about him and his unnecessary presence last year. Just refer to that if necessary.

Now they're really reaching! Ne-Yo, Jamie Foxx, Smokey and the only living original member of the 4 Tops? This guy does look like he's having the time of his life, but unfortunately he has no idea who these 2 "youngins" next to him are. He also has no idea why that guy that looks like his old friend Smokey Robinson also sort of looks like he's undergone too many cosmetic surgery procedures for his own good. Maybe that's cuz he has, old fella.... I was happy to see him having a good time, though, and I hope it made him think of his other 3 Tops...

Neil Diamond, sir, though I love rockin out to your biggest hits at hole-in-the-wall bars, you're losin steam. I appreciate all you've done for rock and roll, and for the young boys in the 70's who lost their virginity to your songs, but it may be time to buy a ranch and feed your horses and chickens now. This brings me to an idea I have for idiot-head Grammy guy: an oldie after-party. It will be only a half hour long, serve punch and antacids, and the performer will sing "im a little teapot" cuz its a short song and its easy to remember the lyrics. And hey, if Hef decides he'd like to throw it, it could be sponsored by Viagra and there could be free samples at every place setting. Sorry, Bono, you've been bumped to this party starting now. I'm putting you between Herbie and Stevie.

**Now it's 11 and I'm really dwindling. According to my calculations, Weezy is all that's left. Did we even see a half a dozen awards given away? I mean, I love the performances, but come on now...8 of them could have been cut out (thus starting the oldies after party earlier and extending it another 45 minutes, ooh!) and it would have been a good show still.

Here he is, the moment I've been waiting for. And though I'm glad he's not doing "Mrs. Officer", and sad he's not doing "A-Milli", I enjoyed this performance so much! I knew he couldn't just have one verse of performance in this whole show! Too good. The song he is doing is a tribute to New Orleans, and I'm sure the negotiations for this performance went something like this:
Genius Grammy Coordinators: "So, we're thinking edgy, hip, gansta, girls with booties and guys in bandanas throwin up gang signs.
Wayne: "No. New Orleans tribute."
GGC: "You know, Mr. Weezy, sir, that's not really the direction we were go..."
Wayne:" New Orleans. Or nothing".
GGC: {nervous laughter} "Well you know, contractually you have to appear..."
Wayne: " New Orleans, Robin Thicke, Alan Tucson, and a 5 man N.O. jumbalaya band, or else I don't give up my gun at security. Again."
GGC: "New Orleans it is."
{pistol whips them with his gun anyway, for good measure}

As we give out the second to last (4th?) Grammy of the night, we see that our presenters are Will.I.Am and T-Pain, who apparently decided before they came out to play the game "Let's see who can dress more ridiculous!!??" Congrats, guys, you both win. An Old Navy gift card. Now run along and buy something presentable.
They announce the winner for best rap album and let me tell you, I'll admit that was a tough category. No one's album sucked. But of course, the best man-boy (Wayne) won and ran out from backstage to receive his award, while his entire family simultaneously rushed the stage to stand next to him. He hugged his daughter, who is not only already almost the same height as him at 10, but they're in the same grade in school. He was adorable and excited and kept it short and sweet. Just what I like to see at damn 11:00 at night! {Man, this never ends!}

G-damn all that is holy, I forgot about a performance by Robert Plante and Ms. Krauss! F this stupid G-d forsaken night! I'm definitely napping during this...
Am I DREAMING!!?? Is that Green Day?? Why can't I wake up right now??!! This is a nightmare because they're not performing a track from Dookie! I also dreamed that Album of the Year went to Alison and Robert and not my boy. And he was so frightening and she had such a freakishly small waist! My God, this is the worst dream EVER!

SHIT. It's all real. The whole night has been real. What is my life coming to?

This night is crap and so are these awards. Wayne, get your gun...

P.s. Stevie, we don't need you to close us out with a song. You may not know it, but people filed out of here like it was on fire. No, it's not on fire, you're safe, but you need to get to the oldies party before all the easy-to-eat pureed food is gone. Hurry!

I'd like to thank my sponsors (my mom, myspace, and, when my status is updated, Facebook) and all those who had not much else to do and read this for the pure amusement of saying "So this girl I know/used to know, she blogs! Yeah, I know, what a loser, right!"


Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Happy Day in America

Good morning. Here’s your step-by-step Inauguration coverage through the eyes of a girl who is looking forward to seeing Obama’s speech, Oprah’s tears, and “Sasha Fierce’s” performance. I may be on West Coast time, but I am on East Coast coffee…thanks Livi.

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7:31a: I’m up, against my will, cuz I love to sleep. It’s Inauguration Day!

8:00a: The cavalcade, so fun to watch the peeps scream like mad, as if the Jonas Bros. were walking by. Those cars are indestructible, which at this point seems very necessary, given who is in the car (the new and old presidents).

8:04a: Bunch of guys filing in. Also some women. If I’m being honest, I don’t know half these people. I am still a newbie as far as politics.

8:12a: Cicily Tyson= little bit crazy. Oh yeah, this blog will focus on history, but will no less be sprinkled with celebrity sightings.

8:14a: Biden’s mom looks like she’s giving those Marines that are seating her quite a hard time. She’s prob demanding a better seat and some hard candies. Speaking of oldies, older Bush looks ridic in purple and day-glo yellow.

8:19a: Jimmy Carter, cute as a button. Awww, they had to skip over the 40th president. May he rest in peace. They coulda let his wife come out for God’s sake! 41st: oldie Bush. Someone made him cover that turtleneck, thank God.

8:21a: Clinton!!! Poor Hilary, what a trooper. Jeez, people are going crazy for her! She’s doing that smile and “Hey!” thing as she points to those she knows, or pretends to remember. “Hey you! Call me!”

8:23a: Bush’s skanky daughters. Ok, maybe just the unmarried one.

8:24a: Haha, the movers are there as we speak! Can I just say that that’s the second time that Katie Couric has mentioned Obama’s underwear…

8:25: Sasha and Malia! Sassy…better dressed than I’ll ever be.

8:26a: Laura Bush bought a house in Texas for her and George. He’s never seen it. He just has to get on a plane and walk through the front door. Kinda like his presidency, minus the bad decisions and idiotic speeches.

8:28a: Laura Bush=not a MILF.

8:29a: I’m nervous for Bush to come out. Will they cheer or boo? I do feel badly for him…let’s stay tuned.

8:30a: Michelle is out and hugging lots. I’d hate being first lady, that’s for sure! So pretty.

8:35a: Cheney in the wheelchair. Katie firstly said he strained his groin, now she says his back. Get your mind out of the gutter Katie!!!

8:36: HERE HE COMES! Bushy I mean. Hmmmm, I think I hear 3 individual claps. Sad. He looks sad. Now I’m sad. Thanks for bringing me down again, Mr. President (Mr. P. for 5 more minutes!)

8:38a: Lots of stylish scarves today! Is this the Inauguration or a Mark Jacob’s runway show?

8:39a: ok , here he comes!!!!!!!!! Joe Biden gets a rousing welcome…and now…the doors close. It’s like he’s the bride coming down. Oh my God this is so exciting!

8:40a: He looks so scared, and proud. Lots of cheers of course! Yayayayayayaya! O-BA-MA chants!

8:45a: Why don’t the bulletproof walls look high enough to protect??!!

8:48a: Speech one over. Uh-oh here comes Rick Warren. No good, Obams.

8:50a: “You are loving to everyone you have made”. Wow, he paused for applause during his prayer. Doesn’t seem right. Long prayer=Obama and Biden putting their heads up peeking during prayer. The Lord’s Prayer, for those Catholics out there.

8:53: Aretha “biggest boobs I’ve ever seen, biggest ugly hat I’ve ever seen, can’t understand a word she sings” Franklin. Now’s the time for a bathroom break.

8:57a: Joe Biden is the first Catholic VP EVER??!! That doesn’t seem possible. Anyway, he has been sworn in. Sidenote: Biden’s teeth are worth more than my life.

9:00a: Yo-Yo Ma and friends play instruments. I’ve really got nothing else on that one.

9:01a: They just showed a clip of L.A., then Chicago, and wouldn’t you know it, the same crowd was there! Either they have special powers like Jumper, or some dumbass as CBS is getting fired right now for f’ing up the Inauguration. Awww, a little boy in a Chicago school just saw that he was on TV and didn’t know what to do with himself. Precious!

9:05a: President Bush’s term just ended at 12, and only Biden has been sworn in, making him president for 5 minutes.

9:06a: Obama is messing up his oath! So cute! AND HE’S PRESIDENT! HE’S PRESIDENT!

9:07a: The speech begins…”Extend opportunity to every willing heart…” I like it.

9:17a: “Our power doesn’t protect us, nor does it allow us to do as we please”. He should have looked AT Bush when he said that.

9:20a: “The old hatreds will someday pass…your people will judge you on what you can build, not what you have destroyed…we will extend a hand if you are willing to unclench your fist…”

9:22a: Kindness, selflessness, courage, willingness, fairness, tolerance, loyalty, patriotism. These are the things he wants from us. Will we follow through, or will we continue to live our own personal agendas? He cannot do this alone, don’t forget that.

9:24a: “A man, whose father would not have been served in a restaurant a mere 60 years ago, can now take this sacred oath…” His black reference. Well said and well received.

9:26a: Speech ends. Crowd goes wild!

9:29a: Elizabeth Andrews, poet. Good poem, but a robot would have read it more eloquently. This is no poetry slam, but she needs more passion in her words!

9:32a: Rev. Dr. Joseph Lowery, older than the Lord himself. Shit, I just realized he was praying. {bows head}

9:35a: {peeks, impatiently}

9:37a: He’s got jokes! “Black wont be asked to move back, brown will be able to stick around, yellow will be mellow, the red man will get ahead man, and white will do whats right.”

9:40a: It’s over. They will now go eat on plates that resemble Lincoln’s china pattern.

9:43a: Now we come to the commentary by all of these newscasters that have opinions. I hate this after sports games and I hate it now.

9:46a: Matthew Bodean, apparently an actor. This is the extent of celebrities. Crap. Beyonce apparently performed the other night. I’m days too late for the Hollywood Glamour.

9:50a: The Bushes board a helicopter. That’s it, it is over. He’s going on with the rest of his non-presidential life now. “What do you think he will do with all of his time?” “Well, all of us close to him are thinking of getting unlisted numbers because we think he’ll have a lot of time on his hands!” hahaha cute.

9:54a: Bush waves goodbye to the nation. Bittersweet. He’s still a human, you have to feel for him on some level. Kinda rude of the newscaster to butt in and say, “…no more m & m’s served in bowls…” while the others said “No more Camp David, no more Oval Office, no more Air Force One…” Bad taste being subjective.

9:57a: Bush flies away. They still point out how bad he was and how some people are cheering the helicopter away. Maybe not the time or place. Maybe I’d feel differently if I were a different person. Right now I think we need compassion though.

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Apparently there’s an Inaugural Parade. Not sure I’m gonna cover that. Stay tuned for your local news for continuing coverage…