I Don't Have The Strength...

I've been doing my workout thing for the past two weeks in addition to my job, so I can barely lift my arms over my head much less focus my mind to the point it needs to fathom why this really is in existence. (seen @ Crunk & Disorderly)

So, apparently Eb the Celeb thought I was just joshing about Chris Brown's new underwear line, Big Headed. To be honest, I actually thought the whole thing was just conceptual, hypothetical, theoretical, debatable even (much like his singing ability). I was not prepared for the full-on website, complete with models, shopping carts, and MUZAK. To his credit, Breezy's face, body, and music are nowhere to be found on the site (thank God), so despite its vainglorious and (rumored) appropriate name, it appears to be no homage to his person.

My need to bitch and critique plus my desire to observe all things fashion apparently outweigh my (dearly missed) lack of interest in Chris Brown and his activities. I have to say something; my very nature wills it to be so. :-/ I will just say these things, and then no more, maybe.

1. Why are the girl's boxers constantly referred to as "Boxahs"? It makes my face hurt, for some reason.
2. These male models seem to surpass my douche tolerance level.
   
3. Imagine my horror/delight (?) in the (men's) "Breakaway Boxers" section when the models in the videos actually BROKE AWAY THEIR BOXERS. Oh, how I gasped/laughed. I was willing it to be so ("break 'em away, break 'em away, do it!"), and...there it was.
   
4. If you decide to take a look-see, keep an eye out (in the men's section) for gems like the "Condom Pocket Boxer" (convenient), "Danger - Fire Hose" (O_o), "Speed Limit: 69" (WUT), and my personal favorite: "Safety First - Clean Up Spills".
5. The girls modeling the bottoms are not wearing any tops. Just hands and tan lines. Why?
6. The "Peek A Boo Sports Bra" (there are so many jokes there) looks completely useless at doing anything but being removed by your guy...single/sexless girls need not buy.
7. I get the heebie-jeebies at the idea of thinking about Chris Brown when I put on my thong, or that Chris Brown had anything to do with the thong I would be wearing. That may be the grossest sentence I've typed on this blog. Trey Songz on the other hand...

Yeah, on that note...I am done. There is so much there, but I think I'll leave that to the hardcore Chris Brown fans/anti-fans to decipher.

Down the Rabbit Hole...

I started this post over a month ago, but abandoned it midway through. I rethought it, because it seemed kind of mean...

Eh, whatever. I'll be vague.

8/8/08
Instead of ending up in the tangible manifestation of an acid trip called Wonderland, though, I ended up in the land of the Vain & Vapid, girls who appear to be uniform in personality although they look nothing alike.

Seriously. My day was filled with the type of shallowness that can't be taught in pageant/modeling classes, imitated from movies like Mean Girls, or gleaned from hanging around (some?) celebrities. This has to be congenital. I mean, there's no way anyone can act like what I've seen here today without having honed such a singular dimension to a gleaming sharpness. And, this is from a female who has Vogues scattered across her floor, owns Sex and the City DVDs, and gabs about fashion with the passion of a political pundit covering the 2008 election. I'm not exactly (insert deep musician here), reading (insert famous Russian author) and quoting (insert famous philosopher) while donating my time to actively (stop female genital mutilation/fight genocide in Darfur/build homes in war-torn countries/etc).* As a matter of fact, just last week I said Toni Morrison wrote The Color Purple (BLASPHEMY!) when it was Alice Walker (DUH).

We all have our "blond moments" (no offense to blondes, since every hair color/race has its assclowns). However, I have never met anyone I would want to call a bubble-head before now. I can't let this happen again. My very life (and the bloodlessness of any nearby blunt objects) depends on it. Granted, the shallow never actually recognize themselves as such - perhaps this means that the fact that I question my superficiality nullifies it (in that way where crazy people never think they are crazy, because they are too busy being crazy, so if you wonder if you are crazy you couldn't possibly be crazy - ok shutting up now...)? Here are some things I have to share for anyone not questioning their possible lack of depth after observing the Vain & Vapid:

1. Oil build-up on your make-up during the day should not be discussed with the same graveness and sobriety as the events of 9/11, the "war on terror", or the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina.
2. Hair weave does not deserve the same careful planning, funding, and deliberation as plans for universal healthcare.
3. No, I don't think wearing a size 4 now instead of a 2 means it is time for you to hit the gym. If 5 pounds were all it took to get you to the size 4, you weren't really a 2 to begin with. And, that's okay.
   
4. It's not all right to hang out with "ugly girls" because they make you feel more secure.
5. No, I have never skipped class because my hair was "busted".
6. Facebook/Myspace are not as reputable as/equivalent to CNN.com, or even yahoo.com.
7. Facebook/Myspace are not really meant for you to become the Tyra Banks of your own Next Top Model competition.
8. Twenty-five is not fucking old.
   
9. Thirty is not fucking old.
10. No, I do not agree that McDonald's employees would be more pleasant if they had cuter outfits.
11. It's not the 50's. You aren't "too late" if you get married at 28. People live relatively longer, now that we (most of us) know smoking really is bad for us. And, you seem like the type to one day embrace a syringe full o' Botox.
    

*Note: I took a Russian short stories class and found it to be slightly lower on my boredom list than watching my siblings do their homework, and I do like classic novels, and participate in walks, awareness rallies, and protests, but like most middle-class "do-gooders", I have only been out of the country on vacation, not to lie down in front of tanks or bring well water to people fighting malaria. I have great respect for those who can do such serious and risky things. I am just honest about my (lack of) experience.

Remember Mondos?

I just got the earwig song from the commercial trapped in my head. How, you ask? Oh, you didn't. Well, that's all right, I'll tell you anyway.

I was looking at this post on ONTD, my favored among my guilty pleasures (they are just so deliciously ee-vull! It's like Gossip Girl, manifested in a LiveJournal, about celebs and pseudo-celebs rather than upper East-siders). I am pretty sure if you could be arsed to click the link, you clicked away immediately. I understand, it's incredibly difficult to give a shit that Chris Brown is making drawz, whoop-te-do. But please note that it's 1 am here, and my facsimile of a sham of a life has a self-enforced curfew of about 10 pm (again, I live in Mississippi, yeesh, stop having me explain that) which leaves me with about 3 or four hours of fat-ass'ed (3 syllables, like Shakespeare...classy, no? Classy, yes.) laziness. That is, if I haven't collapsed into unconsciousness from the weight of my full life (sarcasm, for the new).

So, I took the time to read about Chris Brown's panty line for dudes. It's gonna be called Big-Headed. No, really.

Yeah. (Insert obligatory Rihanna forehead joke here...I'm lazy. You understand).

Anyway, after wasting 4 minutes of my life (thank God I wasn't using those to save the world), including reading comments, I laughed, and said, "Well, Chris, it's your world."

That's all it took. I uttered those three words, and launched into the Mondo jingle, full blast. I can't even believe I remember the damned thing. Be warned, this commercial sucks big hairy ones even by 90's standards, but it would come on during every episode of Power Rangers, Ninja Turtles, Rugrats, All That, and any other kids show I was watching.



Oh, you'll see Jennifer Morrison (Cameron) from House in the commercial (weird!).


Mondos used to be the main drink in my lunch box, especially in summer and on field trips. The Kool-Aid juices were ten times better, but these were cheaper (why? Kool-Aid where I'm from conjured up images of you growing up poor in the hood), so these would be the ones in my mom's shopping cart on grocery days. These were the times of Ramen noodles, Vienna sausages, and fried baloney (sure, there was bologna, but we had baloney), so I didn't know to be embarrassed by them until middle school, when everyone was drinking Hi-C's (remember the Ghostbusters flavor?) and Capri Suns in the trendy silver pouches, or just buying sodas. Yeah, so I was ashamed of my Mondos, and my mom eventually stopped buying them in favor of the Capri Suns. Since I rarely look at individually packaged juices in the store, I have no idea if they are still around. Dumb as this post is, I just got a touch of nostalgia (sounds like a disease), when my cousins and I would drink 2 or 3 of one flavor each in a sitting just to get our tongues to turn purple or blue or whatever.

By the way, I always wondered if Mondo meant "world" in any language. If not, the damn catch phrase/jingle makes no sense.

Happy birthday, Ari B.! :-D

Humble Me

I joke a lot, but there is nothing more sobering to me than a reversal of roles between parent and child. That happened to me today, when my dad had some (minor) surgery. My mom had to work, and I had time free, so I volunteered to be his "nurse" for the day. He was heavily sedated, so I had to help get him to awaken. The sedative the anesthesiologist administered had a lingering effect of forgetfulness, too. It was as if I were seeing my dad with a degenerative disease, like Alzheimer's. He asked me the same questions repeatedly, but I didn't mind in the least. Where my dad would often agitate me, particularly in conversation, I had the utmost patience and concern for him. I just felt this overwhelming sense of sadness for those people who experience that with their parents, their providers/caretakers, everyday. It's really weird, but when I had to help him put on his shoes, I noticed that his toenails were in serious need of grooming, and I could see blue spider veins winding up the pallid, translucent skin of his feet. That's when it dawned on me that my father is getting old. I nearly broke down in tears right there. I have seen my father as strong, aggressive, ageless, almost omnipotent, practically omniscient, from the moment I knew to appreciate him. A father of two from our church died from a heart attack about a month ago, and he wasn't even 45. My father is nearing 70. When I see him sleeping, I fight the urge to check his breathing. I am certainly grateful for every moment we have had together, but I still can't imagine life without him. I hope I won't have to anytime soon. I love him, and selfishly want him to be around for my wedding - which is so far from prospective right now - and to at least see my first (only?) child. I can only pray that the future is not too far off in another direction.

Things to Do...Before Age 22

I will be 22 in less than three months. I concede that I have idealistic, romantic notions about birthdays, cities, relationships, and well, life in general, but aside from graduating college and spending time with my fabulous family, my 21st year on Earth sucked some hairy donkey balls. It amazes me how much time I have frittered away lamenting, regretting, pining, whining, vegging, and just basically being a 5'10, 140-pound waste of displaced air. One of my best friends said that if you want things to happen to you that have never happened before, your best bet is to do things you have never done. So, I will try to take on a new attitude this fall and get the fuck up and out of my rut. I've noticed I respond really well to making lists because of the giddy pride I get out of scratching tasks off as I complete them, so here goes.

I really want to:

• Take a fun trip outside of the state, and spend no more than 8 hours each day in wherever I am sleeping.

• Find 5 new things to do in my city.

• Take care not to neglect my friends.
  

• Finish an article of clothing from scratch.

• Finish writing a chapter-sectioned story.

• Meet 5 new people.

• Get to 100 posts on my blog.

• Act on impulse rather than second guess myself. (Kind of like George Costanza doing the opposite of what he normally did on Seinfeld)

• Smile even when I am all alone.

• Reconnect with at least 5 old friends.

• Be in Las Vegas (if affordable :-/) on or near my birthday. (This could count as my trip!)

• Try out for something I normally wouldn't.

• Finish my medical school secondary applications.

• Vote.

• Save at least $1000 dollars between now and then. (It sort of conflicts with Vegas, hahaha, I know.)

• Make two more stock investments (under advisement...the market's been kind of rough).

• Read a classic book. (I suck them up like water in dry sponges.)

That's all I can think of at the moment, but I think these goals are lofty enough. In light of my new attitude, I will say (type) with confidence that I can make all of these happen.

...Huh?

My guess is, I should stop being some perfection-striving basket case, and just write whatever I want. That might keep me motivated to post.

Anywhatsit, I have questions. They don't need answers or anything, in fact, knowing me, I may just answer them myself...just putting it out there in the universe.

1. Why did Christina Aguilera fashion herself into Lady Gaga/Britney Spears-the-remix at the VMAs? I thought that we Christina fans admired her for her pipes/shrieking and her need to sing live pretty much no matter what. "Keeps Getting Better" sounds like the opposite of what I saw last night...more like "Keeps Selling Out".

2. Why did anyone ever call Christina "X-tina"? I get the play on Christmas/X-mas. But if you were gonna be accurate, wouldn't it be X-ina? If it's X-Tina, we could also call Chris Brown "X Brown". And that's dumb.

3. Why am I such a huge fan of ellipses? ...I blame my Chrisboyfriend.

4. Who decided "moonmen" are a comeback for Britney Spears? Moonmen are irrelevant. That's like Kraft Foods sponsoring an alcohol intervention for Shia LaBeouf. Yeah, that didn't make much sense to me either.

5. Why on EARTH am I not at Mercedes Benz Fashion Week?

6. Why can't I be INVOLVED in Mercedes Benz Fashion Week?

7. Has no one ever shown Rihanna a YouTube video of herself performing?

8. Why is any place allowed to call itself a city and not have activities for the 18-25 age set other than bowling or gambling?

9. Doesn't it seem slightly off-putting how practically everyone in Hollywood (music, tv, film) has "done it" with each other? It's like that Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon game...but with STDs and pregnancies involved.

10. What would it be like to meet my mirror opposite?

11. How did my half brother get. So. Damn. Fat?

12. What is Josh Peck doing...right this second?

13. Why is it so hard for me to finish almost everything? I swear I am so half-ass - only because I work so hard at first that I just lose momentum and concentration after a while.

14. Is it possible I have adult onset ADHD?

15. Where's the damn remote to my camera?

16. Is Keri Hilson's album going to come out? And if it ever does, will anyone care?

17. See question #16, insert "Teedra Moses".

18. Where have all the cowboys gone?

19. Why are you still reading this?

This is Ridiculous...

BEIJING — A 7-year-old Chinese girl was not good-looking enough for the Olympics opening ceremony, so another little girl with a pixie smile lip-synched "Ode to the Motherland," a ceremony official said _ the latest example of the lengths Beijing took for a perfect start to the Summer Games... more @ huffingtonpost.com

I am actually surprised this hasn't happened in America yet, as we are so insanely appearance conscious. I don't mean Milli Vanilli or that chick from C&C Factory or whatever - that's dumb enough, but I mean kids. It's funny, I actually thought some countries were above this sort of garbage. Political ideologies aside (it's a touchy subject), I have always assumed that China was overall a country of somewhat intelligent people who do not have face and body image at the top of their lists, focusing on more fulfilling things like academic pursuits, technological advances, etc. I realize that even the most vague generalizations can surprise you. And in a 7-year old? My goodness! I certainly hope they didn't tell the poor girl she wasn't "pretty enough" to sing the anthem, although she was a good enough singer to apparently warrant lip-synching. Sad.

Goodnight, Goodnight

It's a very sad thing to have to go through the grieving process of death, be it a family member, friend, significant other, or even just someone you admire. Almost to the day, it has been a whole year since my mother's family lost my cousin in a sudden, dramatic fashion, only within days of the anniversary of my grandmother's (mother's side) death. Prior to that, it had been 4 years since I had to wear black and brace myself for the always incredibly difficult open casket funeral. Most people are not as...i don't know...by it as I am. But seeing a person I once knew as animated replaced with a cold, waxy shell is a very hollowing experience. Eventually I find my way back to center, but for days, weeks, or months, I find myself questioning my own time here, pondering eternity and if there is an "end" to life after all. I try to dwell on it as little as possible because as they say, "life is for the living."

But, I said all this to say I was really shocked about Bernie Mac's death this morning. Although as a child I was never allowed to watch his stand-up (or George Carlin's, for that matter), I did anyway, relishing in the curse words and sexual innuendos I didn't totally understand. As he slowly became more accessible to the younger crowd, I grew up with him on my screens, both movie and TV. Every death is both important and sad for someone, but these celebrity deaths resonate with me because I experienced such personal emotions with them: crushes, emulation, admiration, and so on, as most Americans tend to with our informal form of royalty.

Every year seems to take with it the lives of legends or those in the making, leaving us with these sad, deformed clones of the originals, like Dane Cook, the Disney stars, just about anyone who can be referred to as a "tween," Paris of course, Lindsay, these pathetic gimmick bands, and so on. 2008 was filled with icons, and those that could have been.

Bernie Mac
George Carlin
Sydney Pollack
Bo Diddley
Bobby Fischer
Jim McKay
Heath Ledger
Yves Saint Laurent
Charlton Heston
Anthony Minghella
Brad Renfro
Estelle Getty
Dick Martin
Harvey Korman
Ola Brunkert (ABBA)
Roy Scheider
Tim Russert
Suzanne Pleshette
Allan Melvin

There were more I am sure, as well as plenty of non-celebrity people, and they will all be missed.

Black & Gold

The New Orleans Saints are hosting their training camp here in my hometown, something done at least since Hurricane Katrina. So what does that mean? It means that Kim Kardashian was here for a hot second, it reminded me of Sam Sparro, and I have an excuse to post!



(This was the only version I could find that would embed from youTube, so ignore the talking at the beginning and end). Sam Sparro is an amazing singer (who got the stamp of approval from a legend, Chaka Khan) from Australia. "Black & Gold" is likely not his first single, but it was the first song I ever heard from him, and I was HOOKED! His album is filled with varied sounds but he always seems to come back to this electronic, club music that he blends with his smooth, sexy voice. I love the entire album and how open he is about his sexuality, and I am certain that with the right promotion he could reach gay icon status one day. How many openly homosexual male singers are there, after all? I think that will either be one more thing in his favor or ultimately his downfall though I am hoping for the former.

Here he is singing a cute cover of Estelle's "American Boy". I love his sweater, but then I love his style, in general! I think I will do another post on him in the coming days.



I was going to post a bunch of black and gold clothes too, but I just decided that Sam Sparro is a touch act to follow, inanimate or no. If I find any worthwhile and I am sure I will, I will post it under Black & Gold part 2.

PS. I think it's funny how I went from (briefly) mentioning football, a "man's man" activity, to an openly gay singer! :-D The things we do for a posting topic.

Update...

I am working on a couple of dresses right now that I hope to have finished in the next 2 weeks (can you tell I am a novice seamstress?) and I really wanted to show off my geeky new glasses, but I cannot find my camera anywhere. I was so stressed trying to prepare for my ANTM audition that I have no idea where I put it and haven't seen it since then. As soon as I find it, I will post! Or if I find something else to post, then erm, I will post that :-)

August is Here...(Ramble, Ramble)

And I can't be more disappointed. August means the start of another school year and the countdown to my Nov. birthday. I gotta admit, I really expected something kind of amazing to happen to me this summer. Granted, I moved back home, but that was a really big deal. I know I probably read far too much fiction, but I feel like there is some magical, chemical reaction that occurs when you combine a really hopeful girl with a big change.

But really, playing devil's advocate, what did I really expect? I do, after all, live in West Bumblef*ck City, MS (the whole state's a bumblef*ck to be honest, and I say that in the most lovingly loyal way). I am living with my parents, working a job that is well, kinda boring, to be honest (though it is for a really good cause), and making my own clothes, constantly pining for glamour, love, excitement, travel - all things hardly associated with being an aspiring doctor in MS.

But what other choice do I have? I have just enough money in the bank to live somewhere rent-free, i.e. my childhood home. Even though I am saving money with the intent of venturing out on my own, I have no idea how long that will take. I may not get into any med school in the coming year, but right now my best bet is the one down the street from my parents' house...which will trap me here a minimum of another four years.

Le sigh.

I tried out for America's Next Top Model this summer too, with this idealistic hope that if I at least went in there and was confident, was myself, they might see in me that "thing" I have always hoped was there but was never quite certain of. You know, the "thing" that would make everything worthwhile, that would put me up there with Tyra and Heidi and Iman and Giselle, saying "I used to be teased about my height/thinness/breasts/legs, but look at me now!" And, perhaps that is incredibly shallow.

Maybe it is really sad to want that kind of validation, especially in a business that tears people down so frequently. For some strange reason, I feel I can handle it. For my entire life I have dealt with people who would be so cruel they would try (and often succeed) at reducing me to tears, so why not get paid major bucks for it, be in and around the fashion I love so much, and let other little girls see: "She's not conventionally pretty, but she is unique and beautiful...maybe I am too." I am a product of my environment in some ways. For as much as I enjoy being different and like to think of myself as deep or introspective or whatever (haha, just like that), part of me wants to be admired, emulated, enjoyed, and celebrated by people who have no need to, who have no reason to or connection to me outside of being human just like me. Beauty is fleeting, and fame is even more difficult to keep, but something in me keeps drawing me there.

This fork in the road I stand before...how can two paths be so different? To be honest I almost feel kind of ashamed for wanting to model. My parents are such distinguished intellectuals and I have been such the academic achiever it feels like a slap in the face to want to do anything outside of the cookie cutter realm of doctor-lawyer-teacher-scientist. Whenever any adult (defined as: older than me) asks me what I am going to do, I never say, "Well I feel equally pulled towards being a doctor and a model." I always say, "I am trying to get into medical school." Not that I am not actively trying to go, but I find it ironic since I usually say that for appearance's sake, rather than the truth, which is that I am trying to move forward in both to see which one will tip the scales in or out of its favor. The thing is, both require a lot of time and effort, and I worry that if I dedicate myself solely to one, I might be miserable, realize I made the wrong decision, and too much time may have passed for me to go back and try the other.

It's funny (not really). I used to be quite smug about 20-something rich brats trying to "find themselves" since I planned out my life at about age 10. Now I am just like them (minus the rich part) and in fact, at a disadvantage since they were never sure about their career paths in the first place. Being the perfectionist I (often) am - not counting my grammar skills now since I am rambling - my biggest fear is to make a mistake in something so crucial, and I know that's not the best way to approach the situation.

As you can see, I am not exactly at a loss for words, but to sum it up: I know exactly where I am yet I have never felt so lost in my whole life.

Hi, Haters!

I'm back off hiatus :-).

Or call it my impromptu sabbatical. No apologies this time, anyone still bored enough to check here should know I may disappoint(?) again.

While I come up with more reee-diculous things to entertain(?) you with, here's what a real video should look like. No club scenes/beach scenes/dance breaks (unless that's your thing), and some great people in music. Faith restorers, even.

Six...Well, Five Days Left!

But, in honor of 6 days left, watch Six and the City! And yes, I know I spelled it "six".


This is so adorable, even if slightly risque (to me) for six-year olds! Age 6 Charlotte is just how I would've imagined her!

Everyone Go See Indiana Jones!

I am terrified Shia might ruin it. As much as I adore him, I love Indy more. We shall see.

Image jacked from somewhere in cyberspace.

Pump and Circumstance (The Graduation Post)

I had 2 dresses. The reason is because my university is relatively large, so there is a recognition ceremony for the individual schools, and then a big ceremony with orators and such with all of the schools combined.

On the day of the recognition ceremony it rained with utter disdain for the happy occasion, complete with cold winds and chilly temperatures. So, I was incredibly out of place in this number:




Thank goodness we had to wear our robes. But I really like the bold colors of this dress. I wore it with my new favorite foot-murdering Bakers silver peep-toes. I really weighed my options between the two dresses I had regarding the above dress and the dress I am about to show. I felt much more comfortable spending graduation day (with the greeting people and dinner and all of that) under my coat in this dress. To my pleasant surprise, particularly since both were purchased for less than $20 the night before, I got lots of compliments on both.




PS, I realize this post has nothing to do with pumps, I just thought the title was really cute. :-)