Thoughts Before Paris

1. The one thing that has been stressing me out since booking my flights for Paris was the tight connection at Newark.  Upon checking in last night, United gave me an option to switch flights at $75 per ticket, allowing me to get an earlier flight from PWM to EWR, therefore extending my connection time to do a liberal three hours.  So, I said heck with it: $150 is a small price to pay for peace of mind and to avoid potentially being stranded in Newark (rather than the City of Lights) for a day.  You only live once, right?
2. The great thing about long flights is that I have an excuse to buy books at random.  (I will admit, I was a tiny bit tempted to pick up 50 Shades of Grey, but I decided to hold off on that bandwagon for a bit.)   Instead, I bought AM Homes’s (one of my all-time favorite authors) May We Be Forgiven and Domenica Ruta’s addiction memoir, With or Without You.  Both have received wide critical acclaim, in addition to being touted as Huffington Post’s Best Book Club Books of the fall.  I prefer solo book clubs anyway.
3. The other day my good friend Liz told me that something happened to her in yoga – she cried. “Luckily,” she said, “I was in the back row, but crying and yoga is SO cathartic.  It’s like peanut butter and jelly."  How awesome is that?  Now I want to try it.  (Maybe after Paris.)
4. I love fall. I love pumpkin. I love spice.  But this year it seems like the pumpkin-spiced-themed everything has kind of gotten outta control: candles, perfume, coffee drinks, car fresheners.  But hey, maybe that’s just me.  (It’s probably just me.)
5. My friend Brandon sent me an email last Wednesday morning that said, “Stop whatever you’re doing and get the new Janelle Monáe album.”  As a fan of hers since the 2010 release of The ArchAndroid (also amazing), I listened to him.  The Electric Lady is beautifully varied, featuring other genre-bending artists like Esperanza Spalding, Solange, Miguel, and Prince.  If you only listen to one track, I suggest “What An Experience.”  Wow.

Thirsty Thursday Thoughts

1. After listening to Ambrosia’s “Biggest Part of Me” on XM’s ‘70s channel yesterday I realized how I own nary a single album of theirs.  (And that is odd because I am a serious smooth '70s fan.)  Needless to say, I’ve since remedied that situation.  If you're also a forgot-you-are fan, Rhino High Five has an EP containing all the heavy hitters: “Biggest Part of Me”, “How Much I Feel,” “You’re The Only Woman."  
2. As you may be aware, I’m into TED talks these days.  I just watched Meg Jay’s “30 Is Not the New 20” and got major goose bumps.  (And, it actually made me feel pretty good about some of my life choices, which was a nice little bonus.)  She doesn't have quite the finesse that Brene Brown has, but she has some great things to say, as well as some wonderful advice.  A must-see for sure.
3. I know I’m only contributing to the broken record that is the commentary on Miley Cyrus this week, but I can’t help myself.  Yes, I happen to be a fan (on one hand because the rebel in me admires a girl who doesn't give a f****, and then on the other hand, in the face of everyone criticizing her, it makes me want to stick up for her more.)  And let's be reals here: "We Can't Stop" is great pop music.  Today, my friend sent me this interesting commentary on how everybody’s missing the point that the song is actually a depressing homage to the highs and lows of drug use.  And while the interpretation is a startlingly accurate and sobering analysis of which I can't disagree with, I choose to respond to it in perhaps a more innocent way.  The lyrics that “It’s our party we can do what we want/It’s our party we can say what we want/It’s our party we can love who want” is also about living your own life, your own way, regardless of societal and peer pressures.  Though I agree that the song’s primary theme is probably about getting high on the party drug “Molly”, I think that its dual meaning is also about being true and real and honest to yourself and others, which for me is an even more universally felt and positive message.  (Although I will say, I’m quite glad to have become educated on Molly.)
4. On a semi-related note, if you aren’t reading Zen Habits then you might want to consider it.  This week, Leo Babuta had the following quote, which was about eating healthy, but which also pertains to life in general: “Be curious. . . . Let go of expectations and prejudgments.  You might find out some interesting things.”
5. Summer is ending, which is always a little bittersweet, but I ain’t gonna lie: fall fashion is the freaking best.  Bring on the sweaters, boots, and denim!

That's all for this Thirsty Thursday.  Have a lovely and relaxing Labor Day weekend!

The Vulnerability Party

Several months ago, I scribbled Brené Brown’s name on a Post-It when a friend recommended watching her Technology Entertainment and Design (TED) talk on vulnerability, but then set it aside.  About a month afterward, an interview of her appeared in O Magazine, and didn’t think much of it.  Just the other day, I was scrolling through my Pinterest feed the other day I stumbled upon a Pin of “15 TED Talks That Will Change Your Life”, clicked on it, and saw Brené Brown listed, which triggered my memory of the now crumpled-up Post-It note that is probably lost somewhere in the inner depths of my purse.

One of my new favorite evening rituals is doing the Viparita Karaniyoga pose, which is really just an exotic-sounding Indian name for lying down and elevating your legs up against the wall for 5-10 minutes.  So, the other night while I "hung out" with my legs against the wall I played Brown’s 2010 TED talk on The Power of Vulnerability from my iPad, fighting every urge to take notes as I listened and practiced my pose.  Tonight, I just finished her follow-up 2012 TED talk on Listening to Shame.  In addition to trying this yoga pose, you should listen do two more things and listen to these great talks.

 

Brown’s 2010 talk on vulnerability was particularly illuminating because for many of us vulnerability is such a pervasively felt yet feared and suppressed emotion.  Though we all have our different personalities and perspectives, we are all afraid to be vulnerable, which by many of our accounts is to appear weak, to be rejected, to be forgotten.  Brown argues that vulnerability is just the opposite, that it actually is “our most accurate measurement of courage” and that it is “the birthplace of innovation, creativity, and change.”  Food for thought, right?

When I think about it, I find people most endearing when they let their guard down, when they stop putting on heirs, when they reveal the side of themselves that perhaps they don’t feel brave enough to share with everyone.  When I am privy to this side of someone who is struggling with exposing this vulnerability, particularly if it’s someone I really like and admire, a part of me just wants to hug them and to tell them it’s okay, that this is a good thing.  Vulnerability is such an endearing thing on so many levels.

But perhaps why I find vulnerability so captivating in others is because though I am pretty in tune with my emotions, my sometimes reserved and shy nature can hold me back in certain situations, making it difficult for me to express my own vulnerable side too, even if I really want to reveal it.  Typically, and I think this is true of many of us, I am only capable of exposing that part of me once I’ve developed trust with a person or situation, which sometimes takes a little while (typical of the INFJ personality type). 

Looking at vulnerability as a “measurement of courage”, as Brown refers to it, shattered my preconceived notion that vulnerability is perhaps the less tender flower of the emotion family and ironically more of the iron-fisted one.  Vulnerability is actually quite strong and sexy; confident and powerful.  And, as I think about it more, Brown's argument is actually quite consistent with how I perceive the emotion expressed by other people.  For example, a man who exposes vulnerability by saying to a woman, “I really like you,” is actually a symbol of great, modern alpha strength rather than beta-male weakness, in my opinion.  Brown’s way of putting it is direct: “Vulnerability is not weakness.  And that myth is profoundly dangerous.” 

Needless to say, the Power of Vulnerability talk was powerful, especially when paired with a little bit of light yoga.  My homework going forward is to work more on accepting and becoming more comfortable with my vulnerability, and I urge you to do the same.  After all, “that’s what life is about: about daring greatly, about being in the arena.” 

Five Things

• I came home late last night to a mailbox full of  thick, glossy "September issues" and it was as if someone had given me a thick wad of 20s and said, "Here.  Go have fun."  Needless to say, September is a great month if you're a magazine whore like me.  (By the by, did you see Oprah's hair on the cover of O?)

• Beyond staying in my PJs as long as I feel like today, I'm planning on catching up on some music videos.  And while I know both the songs quite well, I've been informed that the videos to Justin Timberlake's "Mirrors" and Katy Perry's "Wide Awake" are current essentials.
• It's been a couple weeks since I've been using the Clarisonic Plus, and I have to say: it really is all they say it is.  After having the system on my wish list for a couple years, I finally went for it after reading repeated interviews in one week about how the Clarisonic was the one face product they couldn't live without.  I've been using the sensitive brush head so far and it provides the perfect amount of exfoliation for daily or every other day use.  My skin has never felt so smooth.
• I am one of the few females in the world who dislikes weddings and all the hoopla associated with them.  (And I realize this makes me a curmudgeon of sorts.)  A bachelorette party, on the other hand, when suited to the bride's personality rather than the generic mainstream standard of our time, is a festive and important prelude to the bride's big day.  But why must they be only a one-time event? 
• Though I consider myself a reflective person, when it comes to making decisions I typically let instinct and intuition be my guide and just do it.  In some cases, I wind up making decisions very quickly, in other cases, sometimes rashly.  On the whole, though, my decision-making hasn't failed me, yet anyway.  This wonderful post on how decision-making should be viewed as an experiment, rather than something that needs to be overthought (when there is never a predetermined outcome to a decision anyway), was illuminating and insightful, and well, made me feel a little more justified in my approach to decisions.

Thirsty Thursday Thoughts

• Miley Cyrus’s new single “We Can’t Stop” is carefree, sassy, and fun.  When paired with the accompanying video, however, the song becomes a compelling, thematically progressive, and thought-provoking timepiece; visually, it both entertains and cuts.  I have many thoughts, but you should form your own.  Here's the video. 

• I am continually in search of The Perfect Nighttime Snack, which by my standards is healthy, a little sweet, satisfying, and fun.  I recently stumbled upon the "two-ingredient cookie," and yes, it’s as amazing as it sounds, that is, if you like bananas and oats.  All you do is take a ripe banana, mash it up, add ½ instant oats (not old-fashioned since you want a finer consistency), and bake on a greased pan at 350 degrees for 12-15 mins.  I violate the two-ingredient rule (big surprise there, I know) by adding in sea salt, vanilla, and cinnamon, and viola – The Perfect Nighttime Snack.

• Having a Me Night is an underrated indulgence that restores in all the right ways and places.  I was tempted to plan something with a friend because it was my first open night all week, but I opted not to.  While I think maintaining friendships is incredibly important for a variety of reasons, what's perhaps more important is maintaining one's relationship with yourself first.  Some may say that sounds a little selfish, but my position is that if we don't first take care of ourselves, how can we be there for or give to others?  For these reasons, and because I honestly enjoy being a bit of a loner, I am a big proponent of the me-time concept.

• Today marks my six-month juicing anniversary and I can honestly say that I can’t imagine life without my morning juices.   While I definitely feel healthier and more energetic, I know there are a multitude of benefits to my body that I can’t even see or feel, which is exciting.  This post on Food Babe provided a good overview of common juicing mistakes and reiterated the multitude of benefits juicing provides.  Who knew that swishing juice actually made you absorb nutrients better?  I didn’t. 

• Food for thought from my guru Eckhart Tolle: “Whatever you fight, you strengthen, and what you resist, persists.” 

Frisky Friday - A week in review.

1. I learned this week that cleaning my house on a weeknight is not only oddly rejuvinating, but it frees the weekends up for more fun things.  I am continually aiming for that perfect combination of freedom, fun, and R&R in a weekend, which is not always attainable, but by trying to squeeze in some chores during the week, I feel like I'm getting closer to that ideal. 
2. Lately I've been working on calming my food noise, a term coined by my favorite former Housewife, Bethenny Frankel.  Calming my noise means allowing myself to give into temptation a little more often, as long as I'm doing it in a moderate way.  The ultimate goal of this is to avoid a constant diet mindset.  For the past week I had been craving cheap mac & cheese, the really bad-for-you kind made with the powdered stuff, so that's what I had for din-din Tuesday night.  Yes, it was amazing as cheap mac & cheese can get, and yes, I started my day the next morning with a fresh green juice.  Life is about finding the right balance that works for you; my personal balance just happens to include mac & cheese every once in a while.
3. I was never a pedicure kind of girl, but since a nail place opened up two doors down from my work I've become a total convert.  It is like the best little indulgence $20 can buy.   OPI's "It's a Girl" is currently on my toes right now and it's the Perfect Nude Pink, IMHO.  Sexy and subtle - just the way I like it.
4. If friends are the new family I have the best family a girl could have.  Yesterday afternoon, out of the blue, my best friend sent me the sweetest email which completely melted my heart.  It reiterated the importance of these kinds of relationships and just how lucky I am to have certain people in my life. 
5. A weekend with no set schedule is one of the most underrated luxuries in life (see #1 above).  This weekend happens to be the first in several weeks where I don't have to be anywhere at any given time and I'M SO EXCITED ABOUT IT.  If all my weekends were this way I probably wouldn't be so excited, but a quiet one amidst several busy ones really is like a diamond in the rough. 
6. You know this post wouldn't be complete without a little music tidbit.  Of course, right?  Well, this week I've been really digging Booker T. Jones's Sound The Alarm.  My personal favs are "Watch You Sleeping," "Broken Heart," and "All Over The Place" - all tracks featuring some lesser known yet exceptionally talented vocalists. 

Just a Tuesday Tickle.

A random list of thoughts brought to you on a Tuesday by yours truly.

1. It occurred to my on my ride home from work today that Enrique Iglesias's "Bailamos" might be one of the great long-lost pop hits of the '90s.  Just don't watch the video because let's just say it hasn't aged well, the styling of which has reduced the song to a corny choreographed mess.  But the song really is a sexy little number.  Listen to it, and you'll hear what I mean.
2. This article made me feel a little less guilty about consuming a half-watermelon every time I crack one open. 
3. The writing in Dexter continues to blow my mind.  Dr. Vogel offered up this gem (Episode 2 of Season 8), which really resonated with me: "I developed a framework for your survival.  That's what mothers do."
4. Another beautiful quote from the ever-inspiring and enlightening site, Brain Pickings, has stayed with me ever since I came upon it the other day: "Always be more than you appear, and never appear to be more than you are." - Angela Merkel 
5. It's amazing what things do to your ego (and after reading The Power of Now I've become that much more aware of how ego is involved in everything we do, think or say), but alas.  So, one of the Entertainment Weekly's editors followed me on Twitter the other day and then "favorited" one of my tweets today.  Is it bad that it kind of made my ego's day? 
6. I'm pumped that Sara Bareilles's new album comes out on July 16.  Her songwriting's so pop-rock delicious.  I also happen to be a pretty big fan of the beautiful/talented/good girly/nerdy combo.  (And as an FYI, she's pretty fun to follow on Twitter.)
7. I'm always walking that fine line of whether it's inappropriate or appropriate to tell someone I've dreamt about them.  The honest part of me feels a strange ethical obligation to let them in on it, as if it's something they need to know, to be privy to; the other part of me realizes this might come off a little creepy.  I wonder if this is some kind of strange compulsion or whether it's normal-ish.  (Thoughts welcome.)

What's Missing from Entertainment Weekly's All-Time Greatest?

Entertainment Weekly just issued its “100 All-Time Greatest” issue, which lists the supposed greatest movies, TV shows, albums, and novels of, well, all time. In the Editor’s Note, Jess Cagle writes that “[w]e would decide what was best, without worrying whether it adhered to or violated conventional wisdom,” which included trying to “honor contemporary work that will endure for centuries to come alongside the classics.”

While I am well aware that music is as subjective as one's taste in the opposite sex (which is why many people look at me funny when I tell them my all-time celebrity crush is Tom Selleck!), as a music fanatic I couldn't help but share a few albums that I think should’ve been included in the “All-Time Greatest issue”, although for whatever reason didn’t make it there.   

So I'm just going to go out and say it.  Why the eff did not one single Steely Dan album make the list?  I realize that some do not like Steely Dan and that some may not have heard of Steely Dan (those who have not are either 12 and/or exclusively listen to whatever the Top 40 station spoon-feeds you, and for that your opinion doesn't really matter in this case.)  Most anyone who loves music, or perhaps more importantly knows music, realizes that Steely Dan is a serious band for the serious music nerd, case in point being Paul Rudd’s character in the movie Knocked Up.  His friends made fun of him for it (because that's what douche-y dudes do, but as a music producer he knew his stuff and made his case for why Steely Dan is one of the greatest bands ever). While my life changed (good art has that effect) when I really discovered Steely Dan at the age of 17 is actually pretty irrelevant here, especially since Katy Lied and Pretzel Logic are both albums that have received wide critical acclaim and beyond that are just really universally great pieces of music.  No disrespect to EW, but for these reasons, at least one of those albums should have made the list.

Whether you like hip hop or not, I was quite appalled that not a single Roots album appeared on EW's list, though I did agree with the inclusion of Jay-Z’s The Blueprint, De La Soul’s 3 Feet High and Rising, and The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill. The Roots are the kind of band that transcend their genre.  And by this I mean that people who don't even like hip hop happen to appreciate the Roots. But strictly on an album level, their records are the sort that encompass a very distinct mood and theme (of particular importance since EW's listing is based on greatest albums and not bands). Most notable, and missing from the list in my opinion, were Illadelph Halflife (released in 1996) and undun (released in 2011).  Both are the kind of albums that will continue to blow your mind no matter how many times you've played them over.  Listen for yourself, and you'll likely agree.

Finally, how did Al Green's Call Me (which I like, understandably) make the list, but not Shuggie Otis’s Inspiration Information? That album is disgustingly incredible. Released in 1974, it maintains a consistent laidback, romantic mood, while simultaneously unfolding like a novella.  As a timepiece of the 1970s, it also somehow still manages to transcend the time period. For example, I could play the album in summertime 1970s Greenwich Village or summertime 2010s Greenwich Village and in either era it would hold up as one of the great Greats. And, well, “Strawberry Letter 23” and “Aht Uh Mi Head” are easily five-star tracks, at least they are for me.

And that's all I have to say about that.

Why I Like the Big K (Where Image Isn't Everything)

Despite the narrow aisles and low ceilings, constructed for a time of skinnier people and skinnier carts, Kmart feels simultaneously spacious and airy and at the same time, from a different era.  You go there not because the prices are lower (like Walmart) or for its snazzy, trendy wares (like Target); you go there because there will be no lines, no people to run into from work, but also likely no pocket-sized Pizza Hut/Dunkin’ Donuts/Starbucks (which is neither unfortunate nor fortunate, I suppose).

At Kmart, there happen to be fewer shoppers sporting SpongeBob PJ pants and slippers, screaming kids, and the current common cold du jour than the Walmarts and Dollar Trees of yore, though it is not to say that the store doesn't cater to a humble group of folk.  At my local Kmart, for example, there happens to be a high percentage of Franco-American senior citizen shoppers with their polyester pants and carts stocked with whatever cleaning products that happen to be on sale, which provide a certain familiarity because they happen to remind me of my own late Franco-American grandmother.  
 

Nevertheless, while I am never particularly jazzed by the stock of goods that Kmart has to offer (things like storage bins and shampoo always seem to be just a little inflated in price and there is no particular flashy gimmick, such as the promise of a nice stash of new Essie nail polish or trendy, one-season-only apparel freshly hung on the clearance rack), there is something warm and fuzzy about the Big K, and what can I say? I am a real sucker for the warm and fuzzy.

Typically, the soundtrack at Kmart brings me straight to the late 1980s or 1990s, playing ballads from Heart or Celine Dion or even Amy Grant (I believe "Baby Baby" happened to be playing the last time I was there), and it makes me want to head straight to the coloring book aisle and pick out a little something for my former 6-year-old self. 
 

 

In its glory days, the Kmart I used to go to was a bustling destination complete with a well-stocked music department, not to mention Walkmans galore.  But the especially exciting feature at the Kmart from way back when was its in-house cafeteria, which, if you could get past the cloud of cigarette smoke, lent a delightful little reprieve to the end or middle of the Big K shopping experience.  They had every fatty, processed, nutrient-devoid dreamboat snack you could want: hot dogs, chicken fingers, French fries, various cream pies, your standard stash of handy-sized chips, and a nice selection of fountain sodas (including, I believe, Mello Yellow).  The cafeteria abutted the hair product section, which was next to the cosmetics section, which meant that the Caboodles (remember those?) were somewhere mixed in between.  How I remember this is no matter, but I loved my Caboodles almost as much as I loved my perm. 

But back to 2013.  I found myself wandering the aisles this past Saturday, well, because I needed some laundry detergent stat and because Kmart happened to be next to the record store where I picked up some Seals & Crofts (summer is when I crave the smooth '70s tunes).  And while I was there it occurred to me how grateful I was to be able to have the freedom to aimlessly wander the aisles of Kmart on a Saturday, but also how grateful I am that there is such a place in 2013 that is neither flashy, nor hipster, nor bottom-barrel cheap, nor particularly relevant, which is, quite honestly, really refreshing.  

 

With its underwhelming aesthetic and lack of identity, Kmart is a kind of unassuming and safe haven, much like Empty Nest (that everyone used to watch but everyone apparently forgot about besides me, it seems), or maybe it’s just where I like to spend a random hour on a random Saturday afternoon, simultaneously out in the world while also away from it.  We all need a little of that in our lives, I think.

Image credit: Pinterest

Finding Home

Why I've only gotten into the Dexter series now that it is in its final season is beyond me, but in picking Season 7 up (via Netflix) midstream I have belatedly realized all that I've been missing out on for the past seven years.  Oh, well.  Better late than never, right? 

What distinguishes the show from others is that it is both plot AND character driven, revealing a complicated protagonist, Dexter, who happens to be a symphathetic killer, since he "only" kills the bad guys.  One of my favorite aspects of the show is that we get to hear Dexter's inner monologue, at times wry and sadistic, and other times tender and thought-provoking.  According to those in the know, Dexter's emotional capacity has evolved throughout the seasons, with him revealing in Season 7 the ability to experience the depth of love in a way that he never has before.

In "Argentina," the show's aptly titled Episode 8 of Season 7, Dexter makes a poignant declaration at the end of the show about the idea of finding your own version of home in the world, where he says:

          No matter where we go, we take ourselves and our damage with us. So is
          home the place we run to or is it the place we run from? Only to hide out
          in places where we are accepted unconditionally, places that feel more like
          home to us. Because we can finally be who we are.

The statement struck a chord in me because it was not only beautifully stated, but because it rings so true.  Whether we have it, had it, or are continually searching for it, we are all always longing for that place -- whether physically or mentally -- that we can call home, that place where we can just be. 

It's a place where we are not always understood, perhaps, but where we are completely accepted, where we are free to be our sometimes silly, oddball selves, so much so that our quirks -- those so-called issues/isms/little things that we may be ashamed to share with some people -- are not only openly received, but are cherished, nurtured, and loved.  Sadly, for some, that place may never be found, but for those who've stumbled upon it, it is truly the ultimate of all places to find and to be, if you are so lucky.

And that's all for tonight. 

"What You Won't Do For Love"

I am utterly obsessed with Jessie Ware these days. 

Her voice, her style, her essence and soul -- to me, she represents everything that I love about music.  Needless to say, if you haven't heard about her, you're missing out.  Tonight I discovered a cover she did of one of my very favorite songs of the 1970s, Bobby Caldwell's "What You Won't Do For Love", and it's so disgustingly beautiful I can't stop listening to it. 

Even though the original is one of my favorite songs of all time, I am honestly not sure whether the original or Jessie's remake is better.  (As a sidenote, 2Pac and Gwen McCrae also have some pretty fine renditions of the tune as well.)  Alas, without any further adieu, here's a side by side of Jessie's version and Bobby's version.

 

Overwhelmed by TMI

I have been feeling overwhelmed by too much information lately. Not in the “I’m-all-offended-because you’re-telling-me-too-much-information” kind of way, but more in the “I-don’t-know-what-to-do-with-all-this-information-overload-in-the-world” kind of way. 

And the Internet is in large part to blame.

It has become so fundamental to us for so many things – for researching, for communicating, for creating, which is why I freaking love it. Practically everything you need to or want to know is on there, at your fingertips at any given time. But because of this kind of access, the Internet has produced a kind of live information feed of EVERYTHING that you either WANT or DON'T WANT to hear or read about.  And it all has become incredibly overwhelming.

I am admittedly a full participant in what the web has to offer: I’ve got my various social networking accounts and profiles (Facebook, Pinterest, LinkedIn, you name it); I keep most of my favorite websites on Google Reader, except for the stragglers that I have bookmarked on various computers, the lack of organization of which is, quite honestly, driving me bananas these days; and I have my various favorite go-to news sites (in particular, the Daily Beast and Huffington Post). 

While I like to feel connected and informed on current matters, there is an undesirable byproduct of this all, which is as true and as cliched as it sounds: information overload.  For this reason, I admire my good friend Elizabeth who up and quit Facebook cold turkey several months ago. She finds herself more content and at peace, not to mention the fact that she doesn't even miss it.  She has also found herself making more of an effort to initiate contact with her friends and family the old-fashioned way:  via telephone or email. While I admire that, I know that quitting Facebook is not the answer.

Because for me, it’s a bigger issue.  This was revealed to me as I was driving home last night clicking through all my SiriusXM presets and feeling overwhelmed by that too. I love the liberty of being able to choose, but what good is choice when it becomes so limitless that we continually feel unsettled in our decision(s)?

Technology is supposed to streamline things – and it does in many ways – but if the side effects are stress, dissatisfaction, and feelings of being overwhelmed, something ain’t right, right? While I want to find a way to scale back my reliance and the pressure I feel from it, I know that giving it up completely is not realistic or something that would be beneficial to me, since it is very much a fabric of our/my contemporary existence.  And, besides, I like a lot of what technology has to offer.

I am a believer in self-awareness, especially as it relates to being the first step toward addressing anything.  So, for now I'm going to sit tight and think about it for a bit, but my hunch is that I might need to simplify my life or tweak my perspective.  But if you have any tips or pearls of wisdom in the meantime, I’m all ears, and eyes, AND fingertips. (Oh, you know it's true.) 

Five TGIF Thoughts

1. Just because I have an English degree doesn’t mean that other people’s pronunciations don’t sometimes make me second guess what I previously believed to be grammatically or phoentically correct. For example, I’ve been hearing smart people pronouncing breakfasts as breakfastses lately and it’s gotten me all confused and paranoid.  It's breakfasts, right?  Same goes for the word suppose used in the following manner: “It was suppose to be fun.” It’s supposed, right? Right?  Please tell me I'm right.  (But if I'm not, please don't say I'm right just to be nice.)

2. If you’re in the market for a Rolls Royce sports bra (and as a lass who wants to keep her girls “high and tight” I think you should be), this is the one. For the past couple years, I’ve been wearing this Cadillac-level sports bra, and it’s been extremely supportive, albeit a bit of a failure in the comfort department (think lots of digging in the ribcage during crunches).  The Panache bra is a much smoother ride. A little flashy and a little pricy, maybe, but no one said taking good care of your goods is cheap.  Editor's Note: this recent French study just released suggests that bras don't prevent sagging; however, study results are "preliminary."  Until then, I'm going to continue to support mine, especially during l'exercice.

3. I have always always written off country music as honky-tonk hunky dory, rhythmless, and BORE-ing.  Even in the past several years with the whole country-cum-pop movement did I refuse to jump on that train. But last weekend I heard Taylor Swift’s “Fifteen” on the radio and it made me feel like I was 15 again, and I kinda liked it. You know the way Ben Folds Five's Whatever and Ever Amen makes you feel? Yeah, that's what I mean. Of course, as soon as got home I had to download the song, which was shortly followed by a download of the entire album. Now I’m a fan of The Band Perry too. What the hell is wrong with me? (Seriously, what the hell is wrong with me?)

4. I read this quote from Portia de Rossi today and it captured the essence [of those who are choosing not to have children] beautifully:

       There comes some pressure in your mid-30s, and you think, Am I  
       going to have kids so I don’t miss out on something that other people
       really seem to love? Or is it that I really genuinely want to do this with my
      whole heart? I didn’t feel that my response was ‘yes’ to the latter. You have
      to really want to have kids, and neither of us did. So it’s just going to be me
      and Ellen and no babies -- but we’re the best of friends and married life is
      blissful, it really is. I’ve never been happier than I am right now.

5. A spray tan has the power to make you feel super sexy (not to mention, tight and toned in all the right places), especially in April if your skin hasn’t seen the light of day since September.  Who cares if you're not going to be wearing a bikini anytime soon?  Plus, with a spray tan, you can elect to get a subtle tan line here and there, because let's just be real: tan lines are pretty hot.

A Week in Review - A few things I've learned.

1.      My cat has “cattitude,” according to my vet.  “But he also happens to be very sweet," she qualified.  Heck, I never knew my cat had cattitude. In any case, the perspectives of other people are forever enlightening to me, even when it comes to little things like "cattitude." 

2.      You never know what you’ll find under your couch.   I found the following relics when I vacuumed under it this weekend:  a graveyard of scrunchies, a Buffalo Tom CD jacket, a single cough drop, a lens wipe, and one purple stain.

3.      The food cravings one get during a cold are just par for the course.  Also, I’ve learned that it is never a good idea to attempt to soothe said cravings by waking up at 4 a.m. and snacking on six pieces of chocolate.  You’ll still be hungry and wind up with indigestion. 

4.      Chinese food is delicious any day of the week, but it’s even better when you’re sick, especially Peking dumplings. 

5.      The '90s-era series Beverly Hills 90210 will never get old, even if I may be in the minority that Clare Arnold is superior to drippy Kelly Taylor any day of the week. 

6.      The notion of finding greater meaning by “doing less” has got me thinking, even as I found myself vacuuming, steaming vegetables, and doing laundry somehow simultaneously while battling a cold this weekend. 

7.      Men and women are not all that different from each other, at least not emotionally.  This is particularly apparent to me as I read love letters my father wrote to my mother from sea during their courtship, engagement, and beyond.  (More to come on this at a later date.)

A "Part of Me."

If you really want to know, my Sunday night was spent curled up on the couch watching Katy Perry: Part of Me.  It was everything I hoped it would be: a girly pop-fest featuring Katy in candy-coated confections on the stage and then makeup-less behind it.  (For the record, she’s freaking gorgeous no matter what state she's in, but I digress.)  Basically, it was everything a KatyCat would want and more, even if it geared to the tween in any of us.

I found myself dancing along to the film in the first half (Um, hello!  She covers Whitney Houston’s "I Wanna Dance With Somebody" – you would be dancing too) and then shedding tears during the second half as Katy’s marriage with Russell Brand began to unravel. 

 

"Thanks for believing in my weirdness." - Katy Perry

But what can I say?  It came as a welcome sweet cap to the end of an otherwise gloomy day.  Though I consider myself somewhat of a “KatyCat” (I celebrate her entire catalogue, including the remixes, as an FYI), I was admittedly a little meh when I saw the trailer for the movie this past summer.  But all it took was hearing Opie praising it on Opie & Anthony a couple months ago and then I was all, “Now I gotta see this movie.”  I swear: they could tell me newspaper tasted good and I’d probably believe them, but what are you gonna do? 

Unsurprisingly, Part of Me didn’t have nearly the depth that some of my other favorite documentaries of late had (Queen of Versailles is really, really something if you want to know), but it struck the girly chord in me, and well, a good cathartic cry is really just plain necessary sometimes, right?

A Year in Review: Favorite Albums of 2012

With December here, 2012 is almost over.  What better reason to cap the year off with a review of my personal favorite albums of the year?  Herewith is the run-down:

Amy Winehouse - Amy Winehouse at the BBC. Live recordings of the late Amy and her magnificent band. Mostly the same tunes from her albums, but a few new tracks as well. Possibly my favorite release of 2012, but that could be because I’m still high on its recent release.  Well, I thought about it, and it's still my favorite of the year.

Esperanza Spalding - Radio Music Society. Oh, what’s not to say about Esperanza? Girl’s got it all, in my humble opinion. I discovered her a few years ago, and still can’t get enough of her sweet, jazz slash R&B sound. A little more R&B influenced than her last album, which had a gentle classical flavor, this album is the perfect French macaron: sweet, tender, and complex.

John Mayer - Born and Raised. Admittedly, I was a little hesitant at first about this release (it could’ve just been the hair – who knows?), but the album, which sounded single-faceted upon a first listen, unfolded with surprising complexity as I played it over a few times. It’s also a great lazy day album.

Frank Ocean - channel ORANGE. If this is the direction R&B is going, I think I’m okay with it. It’s modern, sleek, and perhaps a bit hollow instrumentally, but the result is a deep, dark, sexy, and moody sound. Favorite tracks are "Thinkin Bout You," "Sweet Life," and Benny and the Jets'-inspired "Super Rich Kids."

Joss Stone - The Soul Sessions, Volume 2. A fan from day 1, Joss is R&B’s Susan Tedeschi. This album covers some lesser known soul hits from the 1960s and 1970s. All the tracks are great, but if I had to pick one “Teardrops” is five-star.

R. Kelly - Write Me Back. Yes, really. Some good old-fashioned baby-making music here, and this sister knows: I have an ear for this stuff. “When a Man Lies”, “Fallin’ from the Sky,” and “Feeling Single” are top-shelf in my book.

Donald Fagen - Sunken Condos. A new Steely Dan album would’ve been preferred, but I’ll take Donald any way I can get him. Not a huge departure from his other more recent solo albums, which is a good thing, because there’s nothing out there that sounds quite like him.

The Weeknd – Trilogy. A collection of modern R&B in a similar vein as Ocean’s channel ORANGE, except that this album is even darker, deeper, and more melancholy, with strong sexual and drug-infused undertones. The three-disc collection does not have the smoothest sequencing, but if you’re willing to dig, there are standouts that make the album a remarkable timepiece for 2012. Or, I can do the work for you and suggest “Wicked Games,” “Valerie,” and “Twenty Eight.”

Rihanna - Unapologetic (Deluxe version). I don’t know what it is about her, but I scoop everything that she puts out right up. Though not quite as fun as last year's release (Talk That Talk), this is nevertheless some good, bad-girl pop. I don't know about you, but I need a regular Rihanna buzz in my ear when I’m workin' it on the treadmill. Favorite track: “Nobody’s Business.”

         

On Adele: The Sweden of Pop

Adele is that kind of artist that everyone likes. Be you a music aficianado or not, you like her, let’s be honest. She is the safe bet, the Sweden of music. She’s like gay marriage. Everyone’s for it, so why even mention it? It’s a moot point that everyone supports it (except for the one important caveat that it’s not technically legal yet, but you get my drift, right?).

If you put some Adele on at a party (no matter what kind of party it is), no one will bust your balls. Everyone will say how much they “love Adele”, ironically, as if it’s the greatest revelation in the world, and everyone will agree. (Or, you can be like me, and put on Elton John’s "Madman Across The Water" at your 6th grade Halloween party, and everyone will sneer, and you can keep playing it anyway because it’s your effing party and you can play what you want.)  She is the epitome of a neutral party, which isn’t a bad thing.  It's simply that it's not all that interesting to make the proclamation that you are her biggest fan, because everyone is.

I bet you can name at least five of your Facebook friends who shared or posted about how much they “loved” Adele particularly the overplayed "Rolling in the Deep," in the past year. It was almost like seeing someone sharing their Words with Friends results except that it was even more insignificant, because it was not identifying any interesting or relevant information about themselves, because, news flash: EVERYONE IS POSTING THE SAME THING.

I’m all for fanship and music appreciation – don’t get me wrong. If there is one thing I’m passionate about, it’s music, and there is nothing wrong with sharing that excitement for an artist or song you love. So please don’t take this as bitchiness, even if it is. (But, come on, we all know I’m a bit of a sassy bitch.)  The same goes for hot-button issues that everyone believes in. Maybe it’s just me, but pretty much everyone I know is “for gay marriage,” voted for Obama, is a vegetarian, and, well, apparently everyone loves Adele – or is scared to admit otherwise.

It’s something about the bandwagon nature of the human race that I can only sometimes relate to. People like that thing or say they like that thing because someone else does, and therefore it immediately makes them become interested in that thing they may not have ever discovered otherwise. This is perfectly fine and acceptable and completely human, but when they advertise the discovery with complete utter disregard for its already widespread fanship as if it’s a unique characteristic about themselves, it drives me nuts.

On the flip side, I have this unfortunate trait wherein when mass groups of people like something – especially people who know nothing about what they’re participating in – I am immediately turned off by it. THIS IS NOT SOMETHING I’M PROUD OF, BY THE WAY, just something I can't same to shake about myself.

This is not true for dance pop – the Britneys, the Carly Rae Jepsens, and Selena Gomezes. I love that shit, because it’s fun and unpretentious and made for disposability. It’s music, but only kind of, you know? There are also other exceptions to this trait, generally when it comes to fashion, because fashion is everchanging and really isn’t something to be taken very seriously anyway.  It's just for fun.

So, last week (I promise there's a point to this) I was in a consignment shop in Portland, and as I’m sifting through the denim rack my instinctive trait for disliking what the masses like was challenged. I hear a song that instantly catches my ear, you know, the kind of groove that you’re instantly pulled into and want to hear over and over again. I only listen to 45 seconds of the song before I have to leave the store, and I had already fallen in love with it, with the beat, the cadence, the instrumentation, the lyrics. It was a song I had never heard before, but I knew that voice: It was Adele.

My initial reaction was annoyance for liking a song by that girl who’s overliked by everyone and therefore kind of overrated, and then my second reaction was embarrassment for attempting to make a conscious effort not to like a song by that artist who is liked by everyone and their mother. It is one thing to not like something that everyone covets because it is no longer special – that’s a trait that I am either fortunately/unfortunately (depending on how you look at it) always going to have – but quite another to make a conscious effort not to like something simply because everyone likes it. I remember being a closet Britney Spears fan for years until I realized, I effing like Britney Spears – who cares if she's the Princess of Pop? So, even though Adele is the Sweden of Pop -- the safe bet that everyone likes -- I’m not going to dislike her just to be a cultural rebel. I’ll blame it on that beautiful song, “He Won’t Go,” for changing my inner rebel to a bandwagon fan.

I Love Girls!

I am a pretty big fan of the new show Girls.  About twenty-something recent college graduates trying to make it in New York, the show is no Sex and the City (SATC).  In fact, Girls is in many ways the antithesis of SATC: there’s no jazzy soundtrack, no sheen illuminating the sexiness of New York, no particular ambition whatsoever as showcased by the ladies of SATC.  Instead, the Girls of Girls are barely employed, can hardly pay their rent without the help of their parents, and are ill-matched by beta males who suffer from a similar lack of ambition.

The show represents a time when an expensive degree from Oberlin College does not a success make, when your parents pay for your Blackberry, and when boys treat you like shit even though they’re pretty shitty themselves.  In that sense, the show is both unrelatable and relatable.  When I graduated from college with my state degree, there was no question that I wasn’t going to get a full-time job with benefits.  With nearly $50,000 in loan debt, I had to get a full-time job with benefits.  And even though the job I got gave me anxiety and cold sweats every day, I stuck it out for three and a half years, while going to grad school and being miserable pretty much every day.  (That’s my walking-20-miles-to-school-in-4-feet-of-snow-story for you.)

So while I don’t understand the lack of hard work and motivation exhibited by these Girls, I do understand being in my early 20s, with so much promise ahead of me and yet being overwhelmed by it all – by the supposed promise that “the world is your oyster” -- because life is pretty hard when you’re young and no one wants to give you your big break.  It’s only when you learn that getting any kind of big break comes with hard work and sacrifice, both of which are things these Girls haven’t yet learned and which I didn’t know myself at that age.  You work that shitty job, you pay your dues, you get a little experience, and life gets easier and better. 

Where the Girls are particularly relatable, though, is in their need for love, attention, and ultimately, for their need to be understood, for better or worse.  Hannah spends her time fulfilling these needs by sleeping with Adam, an unemployed dirtbag of a guy, whose sexual demands range from asking that she pretend like she’s a prepubescent girl with a lunchbox, to smacking her around a bit, and to telling her to humiliate him while he masturbates in front of her (when she tries to take off her dress, he tells her it will ruin the fantasy and she obeys).  They have no relationship outside his apartment, aside from the occasional phone call or text, and have never set foot outside his apartment together.  We have all experienced a relationship like this in our lifetime, right? If you haven’t, well, good for you.  In your late teens and early 20s (for women in particular), it is not about being sexually satisfied on a personal level – it is about seeking sexual gratification by pleasing the other.  Once you hit your mid-20s, you hopefully learn that this is not the way any kind of romantic or sexual relationship should be.     

While I ultimately became a fan of SATC, I didn’t like it the first time I watched it.  I thought it was tacky and trashy and poked fun at the institution of romantic love.  Do you remember the pearl necklace episode?  Well, I was only 17 the first time I saw it, and the show’s target audience was clearly not 17-year-old virgins.  When I watched it a few years later, I had reached the point that sex and love are not always mutually exclusive.  Having developed that understanding, the show endeared to me the way it hadn’t the first time I had watched it.  To this day, I maintain that it’s one of the best series ever.

But what I like about Girls even more than SATC is that it does not sugarcoat the dim realities of love and sex, to want and to be wanted, and to find your way in a world that doesn’t give a shiznit about you.  When you're in your early 20s, the promise of hope and possibility looms over you like a dark cloud.  Hope and possibility are not necessarily tangible even if they exist in theory.  Moreover, wanting is much different than getting, and always requires some sort of painful sacrifice, something that this culture of young women may only be beginning to understand.  Girls is revealing these struggles in a very real, and at times, maddening, way, resulting in one of the best series out right now.  What can I say?  I'm in love with Girls.

Opie & Anthony: Just Another Pop Culture Obsession

My current pop culture obsessions as of late have been (1) John Travolta’s sex scandal; (2) the new show Girls; and (3) Opie and Anthony – all of which I can’t seem to get enough of. Somewhere sprinkled in there is an ongoing obsession with Bethenny Frankel and all her awesomness and the Real Housewives franchise, but that is nothing new. (If you’re too good for pop culture, may God bless you.)

Aside from Girls, which deserves its own post that I’ve been writing in my head since I started watching the show, I am a newcomer to the strange perverse goodness that is Opie & Anthony. Having recently bought a new car, for an entire four months I'm the recipient of a free temporary subscription to SiriusXM Radio. Only having had it for 7 days, though, I’m already addicted to it, a problem, since at the end of my free subscription I may be inclined to renew for a paid subscription just as I've done with HBO solely for Girls, and, oh yeah, "the documentaries."  Initially, I was ecstatic that XM had a station devoted entirely to “Old Skool R&B” (i.e., The Groove) and figured that would be the station to consume much of my radio time, until discovering that there are enough channels to turn any relatively focused human being into someone with prescription-grade Attention Deficit Disorder.  Well, THEN I discovered the Opie & Anthony Channel, of course. 

Okay, so it kind of makes me feel a little like a 17-year-old boy, and not at all a better human being for it, but I can’t help it myself – I’m completely entranced by it, good or bad. Just the other day they had an entire show dedicated to local foods, in a non-trendy or annoying food snobby kind of way -- about how great the bread is in Long Island (I had no idea! Now I want to try the bread in a Long Island!) and why they can’t make cheese steaks as good in NYC as they can in Philadelphia and yada yada yada. And then, somehow, they transitioned over into, well, completely crass and brash chitchat about unmentionable topics. And it was all funny and entertaining and freaking awesome.

The only problem is, now I’m having a very mild identity crisis that I may be a 17-year-old- manboy masked as a 20-something-year-old woman. (I really shouldn’t joke about that, but you get what I mean, right?)  This is what guilty pleasures do to us.  They make us feel like super shallow, base, perverse semi-complete versions of ourselves, and yet, there's pretty much no escaping them, unless you have a ton of religious self-control, which I don't have.  My self control has limits, people.  Some days not eating an entire sleeve of Oreos is a big accomplishment.   And while living life as a 17 year old boy is probably not the worst thing in the world, in practice it actually sounds pretty miserable.  Being a 17-year-old girl was bad enough.

Bill Cunningham's New York: Just watch this documentary already

“He who seeks beauty will find it.” – Bill Cunningham, Fashion Photographer for the New York Times

This past Sunday I watched Bill Cunningham’s New York, a documentary 10 years in the making, directed by Richard Press.  I am going to do this documentary no justice by trying how to articulate how moving it was, about how carefully the film seemed to capture the essence of who Cunningham is – as a person, a photographer, a New Yorker, and an American icon. Please just watch it, for heaven’s sake. Even if you have no interest in fashion, New York, American culture, or documentaries, you will inevitably be moved by this film, because ultimately, the aforementioned subjects are not what the film is about. It is instead about an 80-something-year-old with the kind of soul you see in so few people; about a man who withholds the kind of rare combination of talent, focus, tenacity, and humility while all the while being sweet, kind, and funny.  More importantly, the film is about a gentleman who leads such a sparse, simplistic life despite living amongst a culture of indulgence and excess, and rather than judging that life of excess in order to separate himself from it, he basks in it like the most courteous of voyeurs merely through the lens of his point-and-shoot camera.

Cunningham's irony is striking because, while uber-passionate about fashion, he dons the same uniform everyday: a basic blue coat, chinos, and a button-down or a suit if he has to attend an event. For dozens of years, he lived in a one-room apartment containing dozens of file cabinets, a couple outfits on wire hangers, and a twin-size mattress atop his filing cabinets.  Luckily, he had a communal bathroom down the hall.

Bill Cunningham is the ultimate ascetic -- a man who doesn’t have time for fancy fare and who hand patches the holes in his  poncho with electric tape. He has lived a solitary life despite being around people all the time, capturing urbanites in fashiony getup on the city streets.  When filmmaker Press asks if he had ever been in a romantic relationship and then baited about his sexual orientation, Cunningham responds that he has never having been in such a relationship. “I didn’t have time for relationships,” he says.

This fact alone demonstrates how unique his disposition on life is. Romantic love, desire, to be wanted seems to be such a basic, fundamental human need. I cannot imagine a life with that feeling, that impetus. And, I don't think that I'm alone in suggesting that most of us would feel less human if such a feeling or need didn’t exist, but just the same, I consider those who appear not to be controlled by that need to be in some ways more evolved than the rest of us.

Even though Cunningham leads such an ascetic life, he is remarkably courteous and good natured, calling the people around him “kids” and “lumberjacks.” Most illuminating about Cunningham is his lack of egocentrism for someone so talented, focused, and well respected in the fashion and journalistic community. In a world where egomaniacs rule – especially those who are deemed successful by society – I am always most touched by someone who is able to maintain a sense of humility in the face of great achievement. That can be no easy feat.

A particularly moving part of the film was when when Press asks, “Does religion play an important role in your life?” Cunningham hangs his head quietly, responding that religion has always been very important in his life. As someone who was raised Catholic (although I don’t practice religion now) I am always interested in how people of the world – you know, grownups with careers, fully shaped personalities and interests, and a working knowledge of science and society, can have such blind faith or perhaps, such a devotion to religion. And while I think spirituality is certainly a need for many of us, what is particularly intriguing is that someone as seemingly evolved and worldly as Cunningham – who, despite his entire sphere revolving amidst the avante garde fashion universe, admits to such consistently conservative religious practices. While much of it may have to do with his ascetic approach to life, and because he’s a product of his generation, it is nevertheless an interesting dichotomy.

I think the best documentaries tear away the layers of the onion piece by piece the way that Bill Cunningham’s New York did. Those are my favorite kinds.  Other personal favorites have been Joan Rivers: A Piece of Work and Capturing the Friedmans.  As these films reveal, much like in real life, no one is completely what they seem, even if they make every effort to share to the world that they are inside. Just the same, none of us are black and white.