I'm almost certain that Blake Shelton is trying to play a prank on America by having this RaeLynn girl on his team. It has to be a joke, right? At her best, she's like a 4 year old in a tutu screaming at mommy to watch her sing. Every time she opens her mouth to sing (or speak, for that matter), I'm appalled at how ridiculous it sounds. Am I the only one in America who is hearing this? Good GOD.
Update: She's gone. Praise Blakus!
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
The world lost another good man tonight....
I had the pleasure of meeting Pat through my best friend. They played on the same soccer team, and it was immediately apparent how good Pat was. He had a real grace and ease about him on the soccer field. Aside from all the flowery talk, he was an incredibly good looking guy. He commanded attention on and off the field. He was fun, and we'd go out for drinks together as a group. He would laugh off jokes about how nice his legs were, as they were insanely muscular and covered in black hair. He had no problem poking fun at himself, and being completely self-deprecating. He had a great sense of humor, and showed it off many times with his Halloween costumes. Even last year, when (in a wheelchair) he dressed as Lieutenant Dan to his brother's Forrest Gump.
I later ended up in a few college courses with Pat, and sat behind him in one. We would talk, roll eyes at the professor (gasp, never!), and do group work together. It was great to get to know him outside of the downtown bar scene. I'm glad to have known him as a fun party animal AND an intelligent academic.
As many times as I've been around Pat, I've never seen him without a smile. I'm going to remember that about him.
Pat was diagnosed with ALS, and it took him over so quickly. It was really hard to watch one of the most athletic guys I know affected by a disease that essentially takes your body from you. The amazing thing, though, is that it didn't steal his spirit. Pat remained Pat until the end. Although, I hadn't seen Pat much in the last few years, I kept tabs on how he was doing. I chose to keep a bit of distance, while still attending fundraising events, and sending him the occasional message to let him know I was thinking of him. I didn't want to take away any time from his close friends and family (which he had many), as their time with him was limited. I'm sorry that I didn't take the chance to tell him how much I admire his strength and continued sense of humor throughout this ordeal. He was much too young to leave this Earth so soon.
I've seen so many people I love affected by ALS this year. My roommate and her sister recently lost their stepdad, Benny, to ALS. Now...Pat. I can say with all sincerity that I would like to kick ALS squarely in the balls. (Sorry, Mamie!)
In the end, I hope that Pat went peacefully, and in some way, on his own terms. ALS takes from you so many things that we take for granted every single day. This loss reminds me that when you have your health, you have so much more than you realize. I have no reason to feel like I can't get out of bed, or that I can't get up and do something... anything. I have the ability, and shouldn't waste it. I've been complaining about turning 30 this week, but at least I had the chance to turn 30. Thanks to Pat (and the other friends and family I've lost too soon), I'll remember not to take this life for granted.
Rest in peace, Pat. I'm sure you're up there scoring goals, wearing crazy Halloween costumes and laughing when the angels tease you about your legs. Say hey to Benny.
Monday, February 27, 2012
Things I could do without on this season of The Bachelor
Look, I know that it's ridiculous to watch The Bachelor, but since I have no shame, I don't care.
On to the list of things I could do without on this season of The Bachelor:
1. Courtney - She's rude, makes bunny faces and speaks in a baby voice. Pure evil.
2. Ben's hair - Really. It's horrible.
3. Lindzi's middle part - Perhaps it's why her hair is ALWAYS in her face.
4. Ben's obvious distaste for most of the women. How many closed mouth kisses and dead eyed stares can these girls receive before realizing he's just not that into them?
5. Girls who say, "I didn't come here to make friends." Well, gee, thanks for telling us the obvious. We all know why you came on the show, but it doesn't mean you can't be reasonably nice to people. THIS MEANS YOU, EVIL COURTNEY. I find this to be a tired excuse for mean people to be mean.
6. The misuse of the pronoun "I." "Ben and I's date was great." INCORRECT. I's is not a word, thank you. Why does everyone on The Bachelor think that if they replace "me" with "I" that they're correct? It's always people who think they're correct simply because they've used "I" in a sentence, who don't know how to use it properly at all. Has anyone heard of subject and predicate? This isn't season specific, it's like a plague on the entire show.
7. Analogies, similes and metaphors about inanimate objects, and how they relate to love.
Examples:
"We walked by an old wall. The old wall was just like love because it has to be strong and last forever."
"Repelling off of this cliff is just like falling in love because you have to take a leap of faith and hold on to each other for dear life."
"The ocean is just like love because it's deep and infinite."
"Picking out a pair of boots is just like picking out a life partner, they have to be a perfect fit."
Honestly, who writes this stuff?
Ben gets sleazier with every episode, and once he picks Courtney (which I think he'll do), America will be done with him.
On to the list of things I could do without on this season of The Bachelor:
1. Courtney - She's rude, makes bunny faces and speaks in a baby voice. Pure evil.
2. Ben's hair - Really. It's horrible.
3. Lindzi's middle part - Perhaps it's why her hair is ALWAYS in her face.
4. Ben's obvious distaste for most of the women. How many closed mouth kisses and dead eyed stares can these girls receive before realizing he's just not that into them?
5. Girls who say, "I didn't come here to make friends." Well, gee, thanks for telling us the obvious. We all know why you came on the show, but it doesn't mean you can't be reasonably nice to people. THIS MEANS YOU, EVIL COURTNEY. I find this to be a tired excuse for mean people to be mean.
6. The misuse of the pronoun "I." "Ben and I's date was great." INCORRECT. I's is not a word, thank you. Why does everyone on The Bachelor think that if they replace "me" with "I" that they're correct? It's always people who think they're correct simply because they've used "I" in a sentence, who don't know how to use it properly at all. Has anyone heard of subject and predicate? This isn't season specific, it's like a plague on the entire show.
7. Analogies, similes and metaphors about inanimate objects, and how they relate to love.
Examples:
"We walked by an old wall. The old wall was just like love because it has to be strong and last forever."
"Repelling off of this cliff is just like falling in love because you have to take a leap of faith and hold on to each other for dear life."
"The ocean is just like love because it's deep and infinite."
"Picking out a pair of boots is just like picking out a life partner, they have to be a perfect fit."
Honestly, who writes this stuff?
Ben gets sleazier with every episode, and once he picks Courtney (which I think he'll do), America will be done with him.
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Back in action
My dear readers, I left you for a while. I hope that I haven't given any of you abandonment issues. It's more likely that you didn't notice my absence, which is fine too.
My plan is to become more active again, as I hope to have more to say. I've got plenty of pop culture commentary bottled in my head, so be prepared.
Let this be a warning to you. I will be writing, and you will be reading. Hopefully both statements are true.
Back again soon.
My plan is to become more active again, as I hope to have more to say. I've got plenty of pop culture commentary bottled in my head, so be prepared.
Let this be a warning to you. I will be writing, and you will be reading. Hopefully both statements are true.
Back again soon.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
9/11 - Part 1
So, here's the deal. It's been ten years, we all know that. These ten years have been incredibly defining in my lifetime. We all have our stories, and we all know where we were. I feel like I have something to say, so here goes. To be fair, much of this is meant to be cathartic. If you choose to read it all, thank you.
I find it IMPOSSIBLE to be cynical about 9/11. There are so many people who rant and rave about people being "superficially patriotic" and "exploitatively sympathetic" about 9/11. To those folks, screw you. No, really, shut up. I have absolutely no patience and even less desire to deal with these sorts of comments. We were all affected, in our own ways. Who are you to determine whether someone is being "fake" by posting on Facebook, or "feigning patriotism" by flying a flag on this day, rather than everyday? We all have our own crosses to bear. We all respond differently. We all hurt. We ALL hurt.
I'll never forget this morning, as every moment seems to be burned into my brain. I don't feel like I've even healed from it. I feel like our nation has a bit of PTSD, myself included.
I was 19. To preface this, let it be known that I was not a naive 19. I had experienced personal loss. At 15, I lost a close friend to a house fire, which still stands as the second most devastating day of my life, after 9/11. At 17, three friends were murdered in cold blood. I was not a stranger to death, but I was not jaded. I believed that our country was safe, as we all did. My generation had not, heretofore, experienced a truly heart-stopping incident. We didn't have a Pearl Harbor, as my grandmother did. There hadn't been an assassination of a President, like my mother had known. The Gulf War hadn't been a Vietnam. My generation had floated on by, without having had the "I remember exactly where I was when" kind of moment.
I was in my third semester of college at Florida State University. As a rule, I had tried to schedule every class after noon. The one exception was my Meteorology Lab class, which was at 11. Anyone who has attended Florida State knows that finding parking on the campus is virtually impossible. I usually allotted myself almost two hours to drive around for parking. Because of this, I had set my alarm for 8:45 am. My alarm was set on my television, which I always left on MTV. I was usually awoken by a song. (This was before everything on MTV had to do with pregnant teenagers and drunken coeds. Strangely, they used to actually play music videos!) I hit snooze when it first came on, being a lazy college girl, I wanted another five minutes of beautiful sleep. When the snooze was over, I was surprised by my television talking at me, rapidly, about a breaking news story.
A plane had hit the World Trade Center. I jumped out of bed. I had visited New York for the first time, with my aunt, just two years before this, and had taken some incredible photos of the skyline, WTC included. I was absolutely enthralled with what I was watching, and horrified at the idea that thousands of people were likely dead. As I watched, a second plane came into the frame and hit the second building. I jumped. I screamed. I cried. I had no control over my reaction. I was watching the United States being attacked. The television anchors were responding with absolute horror in their voices. At that moment, I knew the world would never be the same.
Both of my roommates were asleep. They didn't have classes until later. When the first plane had hit, I decided to let them sleep. They'd wake up, hear the news, be surprised, and move on. When the second hit, I knew it was intentional, and we were watching a national tragedy unfold. I ran to April's room, where she was sleeping peacefully, opened the door, and said, "April, get up. New York has been attacked." She looked at me through sleepy eyes, and said, "What are you talking about? I'm sleeping. Tell me later." I said, with more force, "April. Get out of bed, now. You need to see this. The United States has been attacked on our own soil. I am not kidding." I think it was my tone, rather than my words, that got her out of bed. She realized I had tear streaked cheeks, and knew that I was not overreacting to something minor. I, then, woke up Jenny, the roommate who never really liked me. She was a bit ruder when I woke her up. I was more curt. I may have yelled. Whatever. All feeling aside, I knew she needed to be awake for this.
I turned on the TV in our living room. Until then, I had been holed up in my room, feeling more alone than I'd ever felt. Once I knew the girls were aware of what was happening, I knew I needed to call my family. My grandmother is an avid news watcher. She has a ridiculous internal clock that wakes her up at ridiculously early times. Although it was only 6 or 7 in the morning where she was, I knew she was watching. I called her, and she answered, saying, "I was just about to call you. Are you seeing this?" She and I have a strange connection. We always have. I could tell she had been crying too. As we were talking, the first building collapsed. Without realizing it, I let out a scream. I could not believe what I was seeing. My grandmother and I, silently, stayed on the line together. Never in my life have I wanted to be with her more. Without actually forming the thoughts, running solely on emotion, I wished I wasn't 2000 miles away from my family. Why had I chosen to go to college as far away as possible?
Florida State is in the capital of Florida. If you remember correctly, President Bush was in Florida when this occurred. The local radio stations believed that Air Force One might come to Tallahassee. Suddenly, I felt like anything could happen, right in front of me. Hadn't I just been a voyeur of a genuine act of war? There was so much horror and pure terror when the plane hit the Pentagon. If they can hit us at our top military office, and two building full of civilians, how much more is there? Who knew how many planes would hit, and where? We look back and remember NYC, DC, and Pennsylvania....but at the time, we had no idea. We all felt vulnerable. Our President could be killed if a plane hit his plane. It was mindless terror. These are the moments I think people forget.
When the plane hit in Pennsylvania, my mother called me. She simply said, "Elizabeth. If one more plane hits anywhere, you get in your car and start driving west. We will start driving east, and we will meet somewhere in a remote part of Texas." She said this with pure conviction. She meant every word. New Mexico, my home, is also home to Los Alamos National Laboratories, Sandia National Laboratories, and, at the time, three Air Force Bases. Any place, could be a target, including my home town.
I feel like the rest of the morning was a bit of a jumble. Planes were being grounded. I was thinking about any and all friends who might in New York, or on a plane in Boston or LA. My grandfather is an Air Force Brigadier who once worked in the Pentagon. These were people just like him. My aunt, uncle, and cousins were in Pennsylvania. I wondered how far this was from their small town.
When I heard reports about people jumping from the buildings, I wanted to vomit.
I find it IMPOSSIBLE to be cynical about 9/11. There are so many people who rant and rave about people being "superficially patriotic" and "exploitatively sympathetic" about 9/11. To those folks, screw you. No, really, shut up. I have absolutely no patience and even less desire to deal with these sorts of comments. We were all affected, in our own ways. Who are you to determine whether someone is being "fake" by posting on Facebook, or "feigning patriotism" by flying a flag on this day, rather than everyday? We all have our own crosses to bear. We all respond differently. We all hurt. We ALL hurt.
I'll never forget this morning, as every moment seems to be burned into my brain. I don't feel like I've even healed from it. I feel like our nation has a bit of PTSD, myself included.
I was 19. To preface this, let it be known that I was not a naive 19. I had experienced personal loss. At 15, I lost a close friend to a house fire, which still stands as the second most devastating day of my life, after 9/11. At 17, three friends were murdered in cold blood. I was not a stranger to death, but I was not jaded. I believed that our country was safe, as we all did. My generation had not, heretofore, experienced a truly heart-stopping incident. We didn't have a Pearl Harbor, as my grandmother did. There hadn't been an assassination of a President, like my mother had known. The Gulf War hadn't been a Vietnam. My generation had floated on by, without having had the "I remember exactly where I was when" kind of moment.
I was in my third semester of college at Florida State University. As a rule, I had tried to schedule every class after noon. The one exception was my Meteorology Lab class, which was at 11. Anyone who has attended Florida State knows that finding parking on the campus is virtually impossible. I usually allotted myself almost two hours to drive around for parking. Because of this, I had set my alarm for 8:45 am. My alarm was set on my television, which I always left on MTV. I was usually awoken by a song. (This was before everything on MTV had to do with pregnant teenagers and drunken coeds. Strangely, they used to actually play music videos!) I hit snooze when it first came on, being a lazy college girl, I wanted another five minutes of beautiful sleep. When the snooze was over, I was surprised by my television talking at me, rapidly, about a breaking news story.
A plane had hit the World Trade Center. I jumped out of bed. I had visited New York for the first time, with my aunt, just two years before this, and had taken some incredible photos of the skyline, WTC included. I was absolutely enthralled with what I was watching, and horrified at the idea that thousands of people were likely dead. As I watched, a second plane came into the frame and hit the second building. I jumped. I screamed. I cried. I had no control over my reaction. I was watching the United States being attacked. The television anchors were responding with absolute horror in their voices. At that moment, I knew the world would never be the same.
Both of my roommates were asleep. They didn't have classes until later. When the first plane had hit, I decided to let them sleep. They'd wake up, hear the news, be surprised, and move on. When the second hit, I knew it was intentional, and we were watching a national tragedy unfold. I ran to April's room, where she was sleeping peacefully, opened the door, and said, "April, get up. New York has been attacked." She looked at me through sleepy eyes, and said, "What are you talking about? I'm sleeping. Tell me later." I said, with more force, "April. Get out of bed, now. You need to see this. The United States has been attacked on our own soil. I am not kidding." I think it was my tone, rather than my words, that got her out of bed. She realized I had tear streaked cheeks, and knew that I was not overreacting to something minor. I, then, woke up Jenny, the roommate who never really liked me. She was a bit ruder when I woke her up. I was more curt. I may have yelled. Whatever. All feeling aside, I knew she needed to be awake for this.
I turned on the TV in our living room. Until then, I had been holed up in my room, feeling more alone than I'd ever felt. Once I knew the girls were aware of what was happening, I knew I needed to call my family. My grandmother is an avid news watcher. She has a ridiculous internal clock that wakes her up at ridiculously early times. Although it was only 6 or 7 in the morning where she was, I knew she was watching. I called her, and she answered, saying, "I was just about to call you. Are you seeing this?" She and I have a strange connection. We always have. I could tell she had been crying too. As we were talking, the first building collapsed. Without realizing it, I let out a scream. I could not believe what I was seeing. My grandmother and I, silently, stayed on the line together. Never in my life have I wanted to be with her more. Without actually forming the thoughts, running solely on emotion, I wished I wasn't 2000 miles away from my family. Why had I chosen to go to college as far away as possible?
Florida State is in the capital of Florida. If you remember correctly, President Bush was in Florida when this occurred. The local radio stations believed that Air Force One might come to Tallahassee. Suddenly, I felt like anything could happen, right in front of me. Hadn't I just been a voyeur of a genuine act of war? There was so much horror and pure terror when the plane hit the Pentagon. If they can hit us at our top military office, and two building full of civilians, how much more is there? Who knew how many planes would hit, and where? We look back and remember NYC, DC, and Pennsylvania....but at the time, we had no idea. We all felt vulnerable. Our President could be killed if a plane hit his plane. It was mindless terror. These are the moments I think people forget.
When the plane hit in Pennsylvania, my mother called me. She simply said, "Elizabeth. If one more plane hits anywhere, you get in your car and start driving west. We will start driving east, and we will meet somewhere in a remote part of Texas." She said this with pure conviction. She meant every word. New Mexico, my home, is also home to Los Alamos National Laboratories, Sandia National Laboratories, and, at the time, three Air Force Bases. Any place, could be a target, including my home town.
I feel like the rest of the morning was a bit of a jumble. Planes were being grounded. I was thinking about any and all friends who might in New York, or on a plane in Boston or LA. My grandfather is an Air Force Brigadier who once worked in the Pentagon. These were people just like him. My aunt, uncle, and cousins were in Pennsylvania. I wondered how far this was from their small town.
When I heard reports about people jumping from the buildings, I wanted to vomit.
Monday, August 1, 2011
Whatever Lola wants....
So... if you're wondering where I've been... I've been in and out of the hospital, and now recovering from a serious bit of bronchitis. I found this old post of mine, and found it extremely relevant:
Lola
Lola
Lola is a lounge singer. She’s not the type of lounge singer who wears long, draped red dresses while laying seductively across a piano. Lola wears gold lamé tops and ornamental decorations on the temples of her face-sized glasses. Lola smokes a pack of menthols a day, between swigs of whatever dark liquor she can get her hands on first. She smells of Opium perfume and gefilte fish. Lola makes the most G-rated of Disney songs sound like something out of an adult film. Lola has spent more time in the Sands than Humphrey, Frank, Sammy and Dean combined. “Child’s play,” she says, in her deep, throaty voice.
Lola is my sexy, blues voice. By sexy, I mean, my hacking, coughing, sickly and completely unappealing man-voice. Thanks to my latest cold, Lola’s come back around for a visit.
Much like Lola’s lounge days, I’m hoping that she’ll only be here til Friday.
Oh, and try the veal.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Holy Smokes!
No, really, Holy Smokes.
New Mexico is currently under siege. We are being assaulted by the smoke from the Arizona "Wallow" Fire. As much as I'm about to complain about it, let it be known that I am much more worried for the people being truly affected by the fire than I am for the safety of my weak, little lungy-poos. With that said, for the last week, I feel like I've been living in the middle of a campfire.
The first night the smoke came over Albuquerque, I hadn't even heard that there was a fire. I started smelling smoke, so much that I thought there was a fire in my neighborhood. I walked outside to find that there was smoke surrounding my house. In high school, I lost a friend to a house fire, so I don't take smoke lightly. My grandmother, who lost a family member in an eerily similar incident (granted about 75 years previous to my friend's), actually began feeling the walls in her house to see if they were hot. I immediately checked the news websites, and couldn't find anything, so what's the next logical move? Facebook, of course. Sounds ridiculous, but our society has become so accustomed to immediacy, Facebook and Twitter are the easiest way to find out current affairs. You don't agree? I found out about Osama bid Laden's death via Facebook long before I saw it on CNN.
What do you know... my inquiry about whether there was a fire in our neighborhood was met with responses from friends all over the city. Smoke was EVERYWHERE. The idea that smoke from another state (one that takes a good 3 to 4 hours to get to from Albuquerque) is insane to me. The smoke is almost as intense as it was when I lived in San Diego during the fires in 2003 (which is really saying something).
Suffice it to say, the last couple weeks in Albuquerque looked like something out of a sci-fi flick. Anyone who has been to Albuquerque knows that we have the beautiful 12,000 ft. Sandia Mountains to the east, which can be seen from anywhere in town. The smoke covered the mountains so completely, you'd never be able to tell they even existed.
With all the natural disasters going around, I hope that those of us who are only affected indirectly remember to think about all the people displaced, injured and killed.
Here's to a week with better air quality.
New Mexico is currently under siege. We are being assaulted by the smoke from the Arizona "Wallow" Fire. As much as I'm about to complain about it, let it be known that I am much more worried for the people being truly affected by the fire than I am for the safety of my weak, little lungy-poos. With that said, for the last week, I feel like I've been living in the middle of a campfire.
The first night the smoke came over Albuquerque, I hadn't even heard that there was a fire. I started smelling smoke, so much that I thought there was a fire in my neighborhood. I walked outside to find that there was smoke surrounding my house. In high school, I lost a friend to a house fire, so I don't take smoke lightly. My grandmother, who lost a family member in an eerily similar incident (granted about 75 years previous to my friend's), actually began feeling the walls in her house to see if they were hot. I immediately checked the news websites, and couldn't find anything, so what's the next logical move? Facebook, of course. Sounds ridiculous, but our society has become so accustomed to immediacy, Facebook and Twitter are the easiest way to find out current affairs. You don't agree? I found out about Osama bid Laden's death via Facebook long before I saw it on CNN.
What do you know... my inquiry about whether there was a fire in our neighborhood was met with responses from friends all over the city. Smoke was EVERYWHERE. The idea that smoke from another state (one that takes a good 3 to 4 hours to get to from Albuquerque) is insane to me. The smoke is almost as intense as it was when I lived in San Diego during the fires in 2003 (which is really saying something).
 |
| Here's an unedited shot from my backyard. The camera doesn't capture how thick the smoke was right in front of me. |
Suffice it to say, the last couple weeks in Albuquerque looked like something out of a sci-fi flick. Anyone who has been to Albuquerque knows that we have the beautiful 12,000 ft. Sandia Mountains to the east, which can be seen from anywhere in town. The smoke covered the mountains so completely, you'd never be able to tell they even existed.
With all the natural disasters going around, I hope that those of us who are only affected indirectly remember to think about all the people displaced, injured and killed.
Here's to a week with better air quality.
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