I've seen this particular meme all over the place and always thought it was HILARIOUS - and utterly tragic when used with Beck or BeckY so now I'm going with Rebecca and hoping for more dignified results. One plays this particular game by googling (your name)+ inane phrase and then posting the inevitably stupid results Let's go!
Rebecca looks like...
Rebecca Looks Like Miley Cyrus. I think I look like many things, one of which is an owl and another of which is a turtle. I must say that I've never noticed a striking Miley Cyrus resemblance, though.
Rebecca looks like, hmmm, how do I say this nicely, someone who really prefers her Coke to Pepsi. I DO prefer Coke to Pepsi. How could they tell?
rebecca looks like a man. and i'm offended. Me too!
Rebecca likes....
Rebecca likes Dolly Parton, so they named the one after Dolly Parton. And I named the other Dr. Kenneth Noisewater.
Rebecca likes bicycles. For the record, no, Rebecca does not.
Rebecca likes to make detailed pencil drawings of the animals she enjoys so much. Tonight's drawing is entitled "steak."
Rebecca says....
Rebecca says this blog is collecting dust. Are you KIDDING? If I dusted my furniture anywhere NEAR as often as I posted on this stupid blog, there wouldn't be a speck of dust ANYWHERE in it. It would be PRISTINE. Thank GOODNESS I have my priorities in order.
Rebecca says "We're going there!". There = The Grocery Store. Whoopeee!
Rebecca says she would not have been able to graduate from a university. And until they give me an honourary degree in blogging, so it shall sadly stay.
Rebecca wants...
Rebecca Wants Her Bike Back. I believe I made my position on bikes (generally prone and injured) clear earlier in this post.
Rebecca wants to "talk" to her mother. And we will likely "talk" about "American" "Idol."
Rebecca wants to sit at the cool table. But this will never, ever happen.
Rebecca does...
Rebecca does not. speak, nor does she demonstrate a strong ability to communicate. Well that seems a bit pointed, doesn't it?
Rebecca does not appear as a ghost. Not YET. Get back to me in about 70 years.
Rebecca does not like to dwell on controversial or emotional subjects. SO VERY VERY TRUE.
Rebecca hates....
Rebecca hates fezzes. UNTRUE. Rebecca LOVES fezzes.
Rebecca hates mustard. I am equally fond of mustard - unless you're referring to the colour, which IS pretty vile.
Rebecca hates her arms. I HATE YOU, ARMS! So SMUG, WITH YOUR HANDS AND BENDY ELBOWS. Stupid jerk arms.
Rebecca can....
Rebecca can help you reach your nutrition goals. Is your goal To Eat More Sugar? Let me help!
Rebecca can out-sing any West End star. It's like google is RIGHT IN THE ROOM WITH ME!
Rebecca can take a simple brush stroke or a tiny swath of color and immediately transport us to places that we only thought existed in our minds. Tonight's colour: mustard. Tonight's destination: The Magical Land of Baby Poop.
Rebecca goes...
Rebecca goes to Norway! I would, too.
Rebecca goes back to General Hospital to fill out some forms for employment. Blogger by day, soap doctor by night.
Rebecca goes to live with her spinster aunts. That sounds nice and restful tonight, actually. We can watch Jeopardy and have a nice cup of tea and NO ONE WILL DROP PIZZA ON MY HEAD.
Rebecca is...
Rebecca is a novel by British author Daphne du Maurier. I am, too.
Rebecca is not overtly about the supernatural. We'd have to define by what we meant as "supernatural", wouldn't we? That's really up for discussion.
Rebecca is herself composed, she is herself worn out. Herself really is. Herself is going to have a glass of wine, go to bed early and try to catch up on some sleep tonight.
Rebecca loves....
Rebecca loves to open presents. Presents are AWESOME! Who doesn't love presents? Answer: COMMIES.
Rebecca loves a variety of different styles of music, and is an excellent piano player. If by "a variety of music", you mean "moody guys with acoustic guitars" and by "an excellent piano player" you mean "a crappy piano player", then yes.
Rebecca loves dogs. No. Rebecca really does NOT love dogs.
Hee hee! All done.
Friday, 27 February, 2009
Thursday, 26 February, 2009
My Post! Here It Is!
My 5 Minutes For Parenting post is up and it's about wanting babies even when you really shouldn't have any more, and by "you" I mean "ME", of course.
I just ran my course with the Kitchen Party - I really enjoyed working with Urban Moms and Cuisinart. They were great and it was a lot of fun. I'll probably pay more attention to my criminally neglected recipe blog now, too. Maybe I'll even start doing the occasional food post over there. Who knows?
I'm having - in all honesty - a really rough time this winter, and I'm having a hard time keeping my head above water (or snow.) right now. I'm sorry that I haven't been a very good blog friend right now - I hope that I can get around to all of your places soon, but right now I'm just hanging out, feeling sorry for myself. Pooooor meeeeee.
WE INTERUPT MY PITY PARTY! Are you a blogging mom? Are you in Quebec/Prairies/the North? Newfoundland? Outer reaches of the Canadian tundra? If so, contact me, kay?
I just ran my course with the Kitchen Party - I really enjoyed working with Urban Moms and Cuisinart. They were great and it was a lot of fun. I'll probably pay more attention to my criminally neglected recipe blog now, too. Maybe I'll even start doing the occasional food post over there. Who knows?
I'm having - in all honesty - a really rough time this winter, and I'm having a hard time keeping my head above water (or snow.) right now. I'm sorry that I haven't been a very good blog friend right now - I hope that I can get around to all of your places soon, but right now I'm just hanging out, feeling sorry for myself. Pooooor meeeeee.
WE INTERUPT MY PITY PARTY! Are you a blogging mom? Are you in Quebec/Prairies/the North? Newfoundland? Outer reaches of the Canadian tundra? If so, contact me, kay?
Wednesday, 25 February, 2009
Tuesday, 24 February, 2009
The Illustrated Frog And Toad: Searches Edition
A while back, Minnesota Mom did a HILARIOUS illustrated version of her google search terms.
I thought this was very funny.
So very, very funny, in fact, that I begged her to illustrate mine.
And she did!
So with no further adieu, let me present:
MY SEARCH TERMS: NOW WITH PICTURES.
1) "frog mask".
Someday I'm going to do a post that's entirely frog and toad crafts and then I will WIN THE INTERNET because I must get 90 seaches A DAY just looking for things to do that are frog and/or toad themed. Who knew there were that many crafty amphibian-lovers IN THE WORLD?
2)"i've lost my frog where is he?"
I'm sorry to say, but your frog IS GONE.
People are funny. Why would anyone ask the internet THAT? YOUR FROG IS MISSING. GET OFF THE COMPUTER AND GO LOOK UNDER YOUR BED.
3) "songs to sing on American Idol"
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!
4) "Waitangi Day Cupcake"
I DO make cupcakes for a lot of occasions, but this one baffled me a bit. The only person I even know from New Zealand makes handcarved wooden kayaks. They're very beautiful. And... The Lord of The Rings movies were filmed there. So I guess I would make a cupcake with a hobbit sitting in a beautiful kayak. You're welcome, New Zealand!
5)"what does it mean when somebody says yes you are his girl?"
Hee hee hee.
I know that I've done my fair share of weird searches - just this morning found me looking, Dwight Shrutesquely, for sugar beets. Yep. If everything goes down, I'M GONNA HAVE SUGAR!
I thought this was very funny.
So very, very funny, in fact, that I begged her to illustrate mine.
And she did!
So with no further adieu, let me present:
MY SEARCH TERMS: NOW WITH PICTURES.
1) "frog mask".
Someday I'm going to do a post that's entirely frog and toad crafts and then I will WIN THE INTERNET because I must get 90 seaches A DAY just looking for things to do that are frog and/or toad themed. Who knew there were that many crafty amphibian-lovers IN THE WORLD?
2)"i've lost my frog where is he?"
I'm sorry to say, but your frog IS GONE.
People are funny. Why would anyone ask the internet THAT? YOUR FROG IS MISSING. GET OFF THE COMPUTER AND GO LOOK UNDER YOUR BED.
3) "songs to sing on American Idol"
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!
4) "Waitangi Day Cupcake"
I DO make cupcakes for a lot of occasions, but this one baffled me a bit. The only person I even know from New Zealand makes handcarved wooden kayaks. They're very beautiful. And... The Lord of The Rings movies were filmed there. So I guess I would make a cupcake with a hobbit sitting in a beautiful kayak. You're welcome, New Zealand!
5)"what does it mean when somebody says yes you are his girl?"
Hee hee hee.
I know that I've done my fair share of weird searches - just this morning found me looking, Dwight Shrutesquely, for sugar beets. Yep. If everything goes down, I'M GONNA HAVE SUGAR!
Monday, 23 February, 2009
Nap Time!
Today is filled with a not-unpleasant list of domestic work to be done - floor washing, laundry folding, sorting a cupboard in the kitchen, making bread and some cookies, hanging out with my girls (one who is home and a bit sickish, another who is home because she is three) - and thinking of it gives me a bit of Calvinist glow. I've been home with young children for over ten years now.
(Do my) mundane daily routines and ever-more tenuous connections to increasingly independent children compensate for all that lost promise? asks the Publishers Weekly blurb on Amazon's page for The Ten Year Nap. And then I barfed, or I WOULD if I wasn't in some sort of decade-long coma, apparently.
I am highly unlikely to pick up a book about a group of 40-something wealthy women who whimper about being unsatisfied with the results of their privileged choices. (I erased a terribly funny but rather cruel sentence here.) If you've been privileged enough to have an actual choice between an interesting career or being home with your kids, you're luckier than most and it's probably good to remember that. A lot of women I know have no choices at all. I was talking on the phone just this weekend with a sobbing friend who does shift work and now sees her young children only rarely and who cannot do a single thing about it and her kids are SUFFERING and I feel such intense sympathy for her (and her kids) that I could put my head down on my desk and cry just thinking about it. But someone who's just bored? Pfft, take up a freaking hobby. GET A JOB. Do SOMETHING.
So what about talented, driven women who want something big or important out of their lives? I dunno. I don't think there's any one good answer. I do know that when I read the following quotation from photographer Katharina Bosse at Kate's the other day:
...that my immediate emotional response was that when what we have learned in our lives is contradicted by the basic biological facts of reproduction, then what we have learned is likely wrong, which is pretty stark. But having babies erases a lot of the constructed artifice of who we are - I remember laying in bed nursing some baby or other and feeling utterly... well, mammalian - a mother animal nursing her baby animal. I could have been a mother bear, curled with her cub, or a mother tiger, her baby nestled squirming against her. It was as unromantic and as unindividualistic a sensation as you can imagine and at the time carried with it an enormous weight of reality, that this was what life IS. But babies get older and one's personality tends to come roaring right back in and that sensation fades.
The domestic - the "mundane daily routines" - has been treated oddly in the past 50 some years: at once considered too boring for any sensitive, intelligent individual and at the same time raised to Martha Stewart-esque heights of unattainable precision, like a type of complicated origami that involves scrubbing toilets. We've also wildly over-romanticized the world of work, the allure of putting on grown-up clothes and heading out into the cold, dark morning every single day, as my husband always points out when I grumble. But the reality is that work can be very, very satisfying and that the domestic can ALSO be very, very satisfying and that both can also be VERY dull and routine and still must be done.
The past decade of my life has been the happiest, hardest decade of my whole life, I expect - and yet I have lots of things that I am looking forward to NEXT year, when my Baby heads off to school: yoga classes! painting lessons! (my grandmother learned how to paint in her 50s after her youngest child left home and she now teaches painting classes and holds art shows...) writing that novel! perfecting my pie crusts! learning to sew! volunteering at school! Bible study! gardening! And my active mothering days are FAR from over when my kids are in school - far from lamenting my "ever-more tenuous connection to increasingly independent children", I'm going to be working on maintaining our bonds as they grow up, on making sure that they have the values and skills necessary to be happy, faith-filled, kind-hearted, successful human beings.
Does that "compensate for all that lost promise"? Well, yes, if you've made other promises in the meantime (and frankly, not much of my promise feels "lost", when you come down to it - a decade of childraising has left me crackling with creative energy.). The answer might be different for women who've left behind a career to care for their children but a LOT of women I've known have successfully re-entered the workforce once their kids were a bit older, so I hardly think that's some gaping dead-end, either, although I guess it depends on the woman. And has this been a "ten year nap" for me?
No. Obviously. And frankly, I find the kind of woman who WOULD bemoan a decade at home with her children, who would regret that time and her choice, as being both pitiable and beneath my contempt. We are not passive creatures who are merely subject to the whims of others: if being at home with your kids makes you feel miserably directionless, GET A JOB. If you feel the need to be home with your children, then GIVE YOUR DAYS SOME DIRECTION and treat yourself with the respect of knowing that what you are doing is important.
And now I have work to do.
(Do my) mundane daily routines and ever-more tenuous connections to increasingly independent children compensate for all that lost promise? asks the Publishers Weekly blurb on Amazon's page for The Ten Year Nap. And then I barfed, or I WOULD if I wasn't in some sort of decade-long coma, apparently.
I am highly unlikely to pick up a book about a group of 40-something wealthy women who whimper about being unsatisfied with the results of their privileged choices. (I erased a terribly funny but rather cruel sentence here.) If you've been privileged enough to have an actual choice between an interesting career or being home with your kids, you're luckier than most and it's probably good to remember that. A lot of women I know have no choices at all. I was talking on the phone just this weekend with a sobbing friend who does shift work and now sees her young children only rarely and who cannot do a single thing about it and her kids are SUFFERING and I feel such intense sympathy for her (and her kids) that I could put my head down on my desk and cry just thinking about it. But someone who's just bored? Pfft, take up a freaking hobby. GET A JOB. Do SOMETHING.
So what about talented, driven women who want something big or important out of their lives? I dunno. I don't think there's any one good answer. I do know that when I read the following quotation from photographer Katharina Bosse at Kate's the other day:
Not only were the physical demands of carrying and caring for the babies
demanding. It was a forced change from everything I had learned so far:
individuality, ambition and workaholism.
...that my immediate emotional response was that when what we have learned in our lives is contradicted by the basic biological facts of reproduction, then what we have learned is likely wrong, which is pretty stark. But having babies erases a lot of the constructed artifice of who we are - I remember laying in bed nursing some baby or other and feeling utterly... well, mammalian - a mother animal nursing her baby animal. I could have been a mother bear, curled with her cub, or a mother tiger, her baby nestled squirming against her. It was as unromantic and as unindividualistic a sensation as you can imagine and at the time carried with it an enormous weight of reality, that this was what life IS. But babies get older and one's personality tends to come roaring right back in and that sensation fades.
The domestic - the "mundane daily routines" - has been treated oddly in the past 50 some years: at once considered too boring for any sensitive, intelligent individual and at the same time raised to Martha Stewart-esque heights of unattainable precision, like a type of complicated origami that involves scrubbing toilets. We've also wildly over-romanticized the world of work, the allure of putting on grown-up clothes and heading out into the cold, dark morning every single day, as my husband always points out when I grumble. But the reality is that work can be very, very satisfying and that the domestic can ALSO be very, very satisfying and that both can also be VERY dull and routine and still must be done.
The past decade of my life has been the happiest, hardest decade of my whole life, I expect - and yet I have lots of things that I am looking forward to NEXT year, when my Baby heads off to school: yoga classes! painting lessons! (my grandmother learned how to paint in her 50s after her youngest child left home and she now teaches painting classes and holds art shows...) writing that novel! perfecting my pie crusts! learning to sew! volunteering at school! Bible study! gardening! And my active mothering days are FAR from over when my kids are in school - far from lamenting my "ever-more tenuous connection to increasingly independent children", I'm going to be working on maintaining our bonds as they grow up, on making sure that they have the values and skills necessary to be happy, faith-filled, kind-hearted, successful human beings.
Does that "compensate for all that lost promise"? Well, yes, if you've made other promises in the meantime (and frankly, not much of my promise feels "lost", when you come down to it - a decade of childraising has left me crackling with creative energy.). The answer might be different for women who've left behind a career to care for their children but a LOT of women I've known have successfully re-entered the workforce once their kids were a bit older, so I hardly think that's some gaping dead-end, either, although I guess it depends on the woman. And has this been a "ten year nap" for me?
No. Obviously. And frankly, I find the kind of woman who WOULD bemoan a decade at home with her children, who would regret that time and her choice, as being both pitiable and beneath my contempt. We are not passive creatures who are merely subject to the whims of others: if being at home with your kids makes you feel miserably directionless, GET A JOB. If you feel the need to be home with your children, then GIVE YOUR DAYS SOME DIRECTION and treat yourself with the respect of knowing that what you are doing is important.
And now I have work to do.
Friday, 20 February, 2009
Mantracker: The Musical
My husband and I have recently fallen into the habit - completely unintentionally - of watching Mantracker. And so now I find myself EVERY SINGLE THURSDAY NIGHT screaming "RUN! RUUUUUUUUN!" at the tv while people - bumbling and crashing through the bush -are being chased by a scary guy on a horse. It's fun!
I don't think I've hidden the fact that I'm not exactly outdoorsy. And nature seems to be returning the favour: I've had sunstroke THREE TIMES, been bitten by an INFECTED TICK (the first one in our area! Hooray for me!), and ran into a bear on my bike once. So I'm not likely to be signing up for Mantracker ANY TIME SOON, although it's funny to think about.
Me And My Husband, On Mantracker
Him: Lots of wilderness experience. Has done deep-bush winter camping, whitewater canoeing, and also has a startling amount of survival skills and technical abilities.
Me: Scared of animals. Cries easily. Has trouble lighting matches.
My husband: "Hold on a minute. I'm building jet packs that will carry us to the finish line - what are you doing?"
Me: "I'm giving up! WAAAAH! We're lost! WAAAAAH!"
(time elapsed: five minutes.)
I must console myself with the knowledge that there is no apparent cash prize for winning Mantracker - not that I stood any risk of that at all - and since there's no glory in sobbing my way through the woods and being captured in five seconds, I can safely put that one in the Not Interested file. And I must also console myself with the knowledge that my husband wanted a funny wife more than an outdoorsy one. PHEW.
(I don't know where you can watch this show if you're interested but not in Canada - it's on the Outdoor Life Network, here, and I believe it did air on the Science and Discovery channels in the States at one time. A lot of episodes are on you tube, and you can buy the first two seasons on the website.)
I don't think I've hidden the fact that I'm not exactly outdoorsy. And nature seems to be returning the favour: I've had sunstroke THREE TIMES, been bitten by an INFECTED TICK (the first one in our area! Hooray for me!), and ran into a bear on my bike once. So I'm not likely to be signing up for Mantracker ANY TIME SOON, although it's funny to think about.
Me And My Husband, On Mantracker
Him: Lots of wilderness experience. Has done deep-bush winter camping, whitewater canoeing, and also has a startling amount of survival skills and technical abilities.
Me: Scared of animals. Cries easily. Has trouble lighting matches.
My husband: "Hold on a minute. I'm building jet packs that will carry us to the finish line - what are you doing?"
Me: "I'm giving up! WAAAAH! We're lost! WAAAAAH!"
(time elapsed: five minutes.)
I must console myself with the knowledge that there is no apparent cash prize for winning Mantracker - not that I stood any risk of that at all - and since there's no glory in sobbing my way through the woods and being captured in five seconds, I can safely put that one in the Not Interested file. And I must also console myself with the knowledge that my husband wanted a funny wife more than an outdoorsy one. PHEW.
(I don't know where you can watch this show if you're interested but not in Canada - it's on the Outdoor Life Network, here, and I believe it did air on the Science and Discovery channels in the States at one time. A lot of episodes are on you tube, and you can buy the first two seasons on the website.)
Thursday, 19 February, 2009
Just Like A White-Winged Dove
I shouldn't have put Edge Of Seventeen on my page - I keep pressing play and then dancing around like Jack Black in School Of Rock. ANYHOW. I have a post up at 5 Minutes For Parenting today and it's about... hm. It's about how you don't have any CLUE, pre-kid, how becoming a parent is going to change your life but it all works out in ways you can't even expect. Now that I've summed it up, you probably don't need to read it. DARN ME! DARN ME AND MY PRECIS! But you should read it anyhow.
Wednesday, 18 February, 2009
What Are They SINGING?
SO. American Idol last night. NOT VERY GOOD. And not just because the singing talent this year seems a bit weak - although IT DOES - but also because the songs that they picked made me want to stick flaming q-tips into my ears. BAD! BAD SONGS!
Most American Idol songs make me shriek with horror. I get what they're going for, kind of - a populist uplifting medley of bombast with the occasional ballad thrown in for the grandmas in the crowd, and now there's also the occasional pop hit from like, 1986 that's been turned into a slow acoustic moaner. But the show has lost its way, as last night's profoundly horrible episode clearly demonstrates, and the singers no longer have any clue how to pick even remotely decent songs for themselves.
Obviously, I need to go back in a time machine and PICK BETTER SONGS for everyone. I mean, obviously. And in preparation for that, I modestly present:
WHAT THEY ACTUALLY SHOULD HAVE SUNG LAST NIGHT
The Contestant: Jackie Tohn
What She's Known For: Being "versatile." Having a giant mouth. BUGGING ME MORE THAN THE FIRE OF A MILLION SUNS.
What She Sang: A Little Less Conversation. Elvis.
What She SHOULD Have Sung:
BUT NO LEGGINGS THIS TIME. Ick.
The Contestant: Ricky Braddy
What He's Known For: Absolutely nothing, poor fella.
What He Sang: Song For You by... I have no idea.
What He Should Have Sung: It makes absolutely no difference. He has a lovely voice and wears nice cardigans, though.
The Contestant: Alexis Grace
What She's Known For: Being actually talented, having a baby, being as cute as a wee little kitten.
What She Sang: Never Loved A Man by Aretha Franklin. It wasn't actually bad but I didn't want to HEAR it, either.
What She Should Have Sung: She actually probably picked the right song, even though I hated it. And I'm probably not the best sort of person to pick out songs of that nature, since I hate most of them. Still, if the goal of the show was actually to make ME happy, she'd have sung this:
The Contestant: Brent Keith
What He's Known For: Being sort of country, apparently.
What He Sang: Hick Town by Jason Aldean. UGH. My neighbours play that LOUDLY at their interminable late-night parties.
What He Should Have Sung:
SAME THING BUT BETTER.
The Contestant: Stevie Wright
What She's Known For: Being adorable, having me feel sorry for her right now, being VERY VERY YOUNG.
What She Sang: Something by Taylor Swift, and not very well.
What She Should Have Sung:
Oh, poor Stevie. She doesn't have a young sounding voice AT ALL and they want her so sing young sounding songs. I say to heck with that.
The Contestant: ANOOOOOP!
What He's Known For: Being the guy who wrote his dissertation on barbecue, having an awesome name, being awesome.
What He Sang: Angel Of Mine by Monica. It was okaaaay, but I wanted bigger and better.
What He Should Have Sung:
I can't think of anything. Hm.
The Contestant: Casey Carlson
What She's Known For: Being pretty and looking a lot like Mandy Moore.
What She Sang: Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic by The Police. It was UNGOOD. And I hate that song to begin with, too.
What She Should Have Sung:
Or something like that.
The Contestant: Michael Sarver
What He's Known For: Being a giant, working class, kindly-eyed, daddy-esque sort of man with a nice voice.
What He Sang: Some horrible Gavin DeGraw song. Gah!
What He Should Have Sung:
Wouldn't that have been AWESOME? YES.
The Contestant: Anne-Marie somebody or other.
What She's Known For: Looking like someone's mom, being told to go put some makeup on, having a nice voice.
What She Sang: Natural Woman. Ted Danson gave her a standing ovation but I fell asleep.
What She Should Have Sung:
I just randomly picked this song. Seems good enough.
The Contestant: Stephen Fowler
What He's Known For: Throwing a big cry-baby tantrum and stomping off stage.
What He Sang: The pile of steaming feces that is Rock With You.
What He Should Have Sung:
I don't care.
The Contestant: Tatiana del Toro
What She's Known For: Being the craziest person in the history of the world, having a gorgeous voice and for those two things together making my head hurt.
What She Sang: Saving All My Love For You by Whitney Houston and she did AN AWESOME JOB. Sheesh.
What She Should Have Sung:
Horribly enough, she probably picked the most-correct song out of all of the contestants. Huh.
The Contestant: Danny Gokey.
What He's Known For: Being a HIGHLY OBVIOUS EARLY FAVORITE. Oh, and his wife died right before he tried out. THEY MAY HAVE MENTIONED THIS A FEW TIMES.
What He Sang: Hero by Mariah Carey. And it was quite nice, but he just makes me so uncomfortable. I think that he needs more time to grieve in private, that this will not work out well - and this is just my gut feeling here, but I tend to trust those. And I don't like inspirational songs at the best of times and having them sung by a very recent widower while we enter the Second Depression? I'm not signing up.
What He Should Have Sung:
(EDITED TO ADD: I LIKE Danny just fine but I'm worried about his well-being AND I think the show is being REALLY manipulative with his story. THAT is what makes me uncomfortable, as it should.)
There we have it. What songs would YOU like to see sung on American Idol? What songs would you like to NEVER HEAR AGAIN?
Most American Idol songs make me shriek with horror. I get what they're going for, kind of - a populist uplifting medley of bombast with the occasional ballad thrown in for the grandmas in the crowd, and now there's also the occasional pop hit from like, 1986 that's been turned into a slow acoustic moaner. But the show has lost its way, as last night's profoundly horrible episode clearly demonstrates, and the singers no longer have any clue how to pick even remotely decent songs for themselves.
Obviously, I need to go back in a time machine and PICK BETTER SONGS for everyone. I mean, obviously. And in preparation for that, I modestly present:
WHAT THEY ACTUALLY SHOULD HAVE SUNG LAST NIGHT
The Contestant: Jackie Tohn
What She's Known For: Being "versatile." Having a giant mouth. BUGGING ME MORE THAN THE FIRE OF A MILLION SUNS.
What She Sang: A Little Less Conversation. Elvis.
What She SHOULD Have Sung:
BUT NO LEGGINGS THIS TIME. Ick.
The Contestant: Ricky Braddy
What He's Known For: Absolutely nothing, poor fella.
What He Sang: Song For You by... I have no idea.
What He Should Have Sung: It makes absolutely no difference. He has a lovely voice and wears nice cardigans, though.
The Contestant: Alexis Grace
What She's Known For: Being actually talented, having a baby, being as cute as a wee little kitten.
What She Sang: Never Loved A Man by Aretha Franklin. It wasn't actually bad but I didn't want to HEAR it, either.
What She Should Have Sung: She actually probably picked the right song, even though I hated it. And I'm probably not the best sort of person to pick out songs of that nature, since I hate most of them. Still, if the goal of the show was actually to make ME happy, she'd have sung this:
The Contestant: Brent Keith
What He's Known For: Being sort of country, apparently.
What He Sang: Hick Town by Jason Aldean. UGH. My neighbours play that LOUDLY at their interminable late-night parties.
What He Should Have Sung:
SAME THING BUT BETTER.
The Contestant: Stevie Wright
What She's Known For: Being adorable, having me feel sorry for her right now, being VERY VERY YOUNG.
What She Sang: Something by Taylor Swift, and not very well.
What She Should Have Sung:
Oh, poor Stevie. She doesn't have a young sounding voice AT ALL and they want her so sing young sounding songs. I say to heck with that.
The Contestant: ANOOOOOP!
What He's Known For: Being the guy who wrote his dissertation on barbecue, having an awesome name, being awesome.
What He Sang: Angel Of Mine by Monica. It was okaaaay, but I wanted bigger and better.
What He Should Have Sung:
I can't think of anything. Hm.
The Contestant: Casey Carlson
What She's Known For: Being pretty and looking a lot like Mandy Moore.
What She Sang: Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic by The Police. It was UNGOOD. And I hate that song to begin with, too.
What She Should Have Sung:
Or something like that.
The Contestant: Michael Sarver
What He's Known For: Being a giant, working class, kindly-eyed, daddy-esque sort of man with a nice voice.
What He Sang: Some horrible Gavin DeGraw song. Gah!
What He Should Have Sung:
Wouldn't that have been AWESOME? YES.
The Contestant: Anne-Marie somebody or other.
What She's Known For: Looking like someone's mom, being told to go put some makeup on, having a nice voice.
What She Sang: Natural Woman. Ted Danson gave her a standing ovation but I fell asleep.
What She Should Have Sung:
I just randomly picked this song. Seems good enough.
The Contestant: Stephen Fowler
What He's Known For: Throwing a big cry-baby tantrum and stomping off stage.
What He Sang: The pile of steaming feces that is Rock With You.
What He Should Have Sung:
I don't care.
The Contestant: Tatiana del Toro
What She's Known For: Being the craziest person in the history of the world, having a gorgeous voice and for those two things together making my head hurt.
What She Sang: Saving All My Love For You by Whitney Houston and she did AN AWESOME JOB. Sheesh.
What She Should Have Sung:
Horribly enough, she probably picked the most-correct song out of all of the contestants. Huh.
The Contestant: Danny Gokey.
What He's Known For: Being a HIGHLY OBVIOUS EARLY FAVORITE. Oh, and his wife died right before he tried out. THEY MAY HAVE MENTIONED THIS A FEW TIMES.
What He Sang: Hero by Mariah Carey. And it was quite nice, but he just makes me so uncomfortable. I think that he needs more time to grieve in private, that this will not work out well - and this is just my gut feeling here, but I tend to trust those. And I don't like inspirational songs at the best of times and having them sung by a very recent widower while we enter the Second Depression? I'm not signing up.
What He Should Have Sung:
(EDITED TO ADD: I LIKE Danny just fine but I'm worried about his well-being AND I think the show is being REALLY manipulative with his story. THAT is what makes me uncomfortable, as it should.)
There we have it. What songs would YOU like to see sung on American Idol? What songs would you like to NEVER HEAR AGAIN?
Monday, 16 February, 2009
Hello, Monday Morning!
DOH!
All day long on Friday, I kept having this What-Am-I-Forgetting feeling, as well as a fever. And just NOW I remembered what it WAS that I was forgetting - I guest posted over at Don Mills Diva's on Friday! DER! I really LIKED my post too, so I'm really slapping myself in the head right now.
We're having a holiday today, and we're going to go watch Madagascar II at the arena, which strikes my kids as a very cosmoplitan thing to do. Yes, nothing says "big city living" like watching an out-on-dvd-movie upstairs at the arena, really.
Hey, look what I have!
The nice people at Carved Solutions sent them to me, and I was surprised by how charmed I was - and the soap smells nice as well as being ALL ABOUT MEEEEEE. And yeessssss, that is one of the things I was snarky about on my Christmas Oprah list, and I was wrong about the soap - very nice! - but not about that stupid pet camera thing or those seriously ugly cashmere socks.
All day long on Friday, I kept having this What-Am-I-Forgetting feeling, as well as a fever. And just NOW I remembered what it WAS that I was forgetting - I guest posted over at Don Mills Diva's on Friday! DER! I really LIKED my post too, so I'm really slapping myself in the head right now.
We're having a holiday today, and we're going to go watch Madagascar II at the arena, which strikes my kids as a very cosmoplitan thing to do. Yes, nothing says "big city living" like watching an out-on-dvd-movie upstairs at the arena, really.
Hey, look what I have!
The nice people at Carved Solutions sent them to me, and I was surprised by how charmed I was - and the soap smells nice as well as being ALL ABOUT MEEEEEE. And yeessssss, that is one of the things I was snarky about on my Christmas Oprah list, and I was wrong about the soap - very nice! - but not about that stupid pet camera thing or those seriously ugly cashmere socks.My last Kitchen Party post will be up at some point today. When it is, I would love for you to come over and say hi. In the meantime, I hope that you're enjoying your holiday and/or grim workday.
Friday, 13 February, 2009
Hurtful Good Taste
One funny thing about having a blog is that I could at any given time rant more or less publicly about things that offend my precious self - and gosh, have I EVER. Completely aside from the rants that I've seen fit to post, there are also tons of unposted rants - unposted because I like people to like me instead of backing away slowly and nervously from me. I'm a bit funny like that.
But faint heart aside, there's something that's been bugging me. And although it bugs when I see this in other people, it bugs me the most when I realize that I'm really guilty of it, too.
I am, as a relative of mine would say, "a snot". I am judgemental of what other people watch, read and listen to and feel deep down that if everyone else would just be as clever as me, the world would be a much, much better place. I pretend sometimes that I don't think this - and I also pretend that when I like things that are goofy - Guitar Hero! American Idol! - that I am liking them in an ironic, smirking sort of way. But I'm lying to myself - I like American Idol because I find it both thrilling and hilarious and I like Guitar Hero because I am straight up AWESOME at it.
But admitting that to myself would mean that I am failing at some important but unadmitted belief I hold - that having good taste, that liking the RIGHT things means that you are transcending social class, that I am above my upper-working class economics because I sit around reading Important Books on my fourth hand couch. Yep. In my mind, reading the right things means that I magically transform into an upper (or heck, at least MIDDLE) class person who just happens to mysteriously have no money. It's the magic of Good Taste!
So that's kind of funny.
Here's the not funny part, though - I use my Good Taste as a way to judge the worth of other people. A while back, I was chatting with some perfectly nice woman and we got to talking about books and she mentioned that she loved a series of books that I think are crappy. And so, of course, I dismissed them - briefly, but with full, smirking disdain - and I MADE HER CRY. You may guess how this makes me feel about myself. Is feeling smart worth that?
Everything is falling apart. I find myself tensed much of the time now, waiting for some certain blow - tons of people I know have cancer, have lost their jobs, and I'm not saying that I don't still find reading magical and fun, but I am saying that - unlike the old Smiths lyric - there IS more to life than books, you know, and I'm finding the idea of judging other people based on what part of the book store (or the dvd rental place) they shop is kind of obscene. I still do it, mind you, but I'm more aware that as I get older and less willing to pretend that I like certain smart things that I actually hate* just so that I can maintain the fiction that I am more than my surroundings might suggest, that I am part of some sort of invisible, mystical elite.
But faint heart aside, there's something that's been bugging me. And although it bugs when I see this in other people, it bugs me the most when I realize that I'm really guilty of it, too.
I am, as a relative of mine would say, "a snot". I am judgemental of what other people watch, read and listen to and feel deep down that if everyone else would just be as clever as me, the world would be a much, much better place. I pretend sometimes that I don't think this - and I also pretend that when I like things that are goofy - Guitar Hero! American Idol! - that I am liking them in an ironic, smirking sort of way. But I'm lying to myself - I like American Idol because I find it both thrilling and hilarious and I like Guitar Hero because I am straight up AWESOME at it.
But admitting that to myself would mean that I am failing at some important but unadmitted belief I hold - that having good taste, that liking the RIGHT things means that you are transcending social class, that I am above my upper-working class economics because I sit around reading Important Books on my fourth hand couch. Yep. In my mind, reading the right things means that I magically transform into an upper (or heck, at least MIDDLE) class person who just happens to mysteriously have no money. It's the magic of Good Taste!
So that's kind of funny.
Here's the not funny part, though - I use my Good Taste as a way to judge the worth of other people. A while back, I was chatting with some perfectly nice woman and we got to talking about books and she mentioned that she loved a series of books that I think are crappy. And so, of course, I dismissed them - briefly, but with full, smirking disdain - and I MADE HER CRY. You may guess how this makes me feel about myself. Is feeling smart worth that?
Everything is falling apart. I find myself tensed much of the time now, waiting for some certain blow - tons of people I know have cancer, have lost their jobs, and I'm not saying that I don't still find reading magical and fun, but I am saying that - unlike the old Smiths lyric - there IS more to life than books, you know, and I'm finding the idea of judging other people based on what part of the book store (or the dvd rental place) they shop is kind of obscene. I still do it, mind you, but I'm more aware that as I get older and less willing to pretend that I like certain smart things that I actually hate* just so that I can maintain the fiction that I am more than my surroundings might suggest, that I am part of some sort of invisible, mystical elite.
Thursday, 12 February, 2009
Almost Valentine's Day
I spent all day working on a very, very long rant-y post - which is still not done, thanks - and hanging out with The Baby who needed a LOT of my attention yesterday. LOTS. So there was no post from me.
But there's one today! And it's about the aforementioned Baby, too, and it's over at 5 Minutes for Parenting. See you there.
But there's one today! And it's about the aforementioned Baby, too, and it's over at 5 Minutes for Parenting. See you there.
Tuesday, 10 February, 2009
The Ice Storm
Sometime during the night, our suddenly gentle weather took a turn and now we're being covered in freezing rain, the road outside my house slick with ice.
My kids are home. The Boy is playing school with the Baby, patiently writing out lists of numbers for her to copy and The Girl is making pudding (the kind from a box) in the kitchen. And I am feeling more than a bit better, too. So it's all cozy and pleasant and my Kitchen Party post is up. See you there!
My kids are home. The Boy is playing school with the Baby, patiently writing out lists of numbers for her to copy and The Girl is making pudding (the kind from a box) in the kitchen. And I am feeling more than a bit better, too. So it's all cozy and pleasant and my Kitchen Party post is up. See you there!
Monday, 9 February, 2009
Important Global News
My ears hurt.
My husband and I were talking about earaches on the weekend - that was a GREAT time - and we puzzled over how much more horrifying earaches are than a sore throat, let's say. I'm able to compare the two since both hurt and so I can say with utter scientific certainty that earaches are 71% more upsetting than sore throats.
I'm going to the doctor this afternoon. You'd think she'd be happy to see me, all affable and interestingly sick, but instead she gets this long suffering look on her face. Hm.
I do have an actual post for today - melancholy and chilling, even, and not AT ALL about nachos, which is what my brother wanted me to write about - but I don't know when it's going up, so instead it's just me hanging out here, whining about my ears. You're welcome. (and I'll let you know about my Kitchen Party post.)
My husband and I were talking about earaches on the weekend - that was a GREAT time - and we puzzled over how much more horrifying earaches are than a sore throat, let's say. I'm able to compare the two since both hurt and so I can say with utter scientific certainty that earaches are 71% more upsetting than sore throats.
I'm going to the doctor this afternoon. You'd think she'd be happy to see me, all affable and interestingly sick, but instead she gets this long suffering look on her face. Hm.
I do have an actual post for today - melancholy and chilling, even, and not AT ALL about nachos, which is what my brother wanted me to write about - but I don't know when it's going up, so instead it's just me hanging out here, whining about my ears. You're welcome. (and I'll let you know about my Kitchen Party post.)
Thursday, 5 February, 2009
Today's Post
is up at 5 Minutes For Parenting and is ribald in a low-key sorta way. See you there!
(important update! The teacher called me because The Boy got REALLY upset when she took him aside to remind him of the whole Time + Place thing, and not because of the nekkid joke. She just wanted to give me fair warning that he was coming home in A Mood.)
(important update! The teacher called me because The Boy got REALLY upset when she took him aside to remind him of the whole Time + Place thing, and not because of the nekkid joke. She just wanted to give me fair warning that he was coming home in A Mood.)
Tuesday, 3 February, 2009
Warning! This post made me cry.
The Baby went to a pre-kindergarten open house yesterday. Right now, the pre-ks are sharing a class with the kindergarteners AND the grade one class, and there's still only 16 of them. We are running out of children. Someday, there will be none left and the teachers will shrug and lock the doors and the playhouse dolls will grow grey-eyed with dust.
So the principal led The Baby around, showing her the music room with its drums and the tall piano, showing her the library (which smelled like books and little kids' feet), showing her the kindergarten classroom with the easels and the rugs and the four pre-kindergartners gathered together, so much bigger than her, and their young, whisper-voiced teacher. And she was utterly unafraid - of course! - and threw herself upon the rug and said off-handedly to me that I could go home now.
Ha.
She hung out with the kindergarten class while I went down to the office and filled out a huge swath of paperwork. Some of the questions were unintentionally hilarious, like "How does your child react when they don't get their way?"
I told my husband about this later and we laughed. He said that I should have written "If you are smart, you will never find out." I merely wrote "fury", but her teacher will certainly find out soon enough anyhow. She has a bad temper, my child, which goes nicely with her also being as brave as a little bear. When I came back, she was sitting with her brother and his friends and he was - MY HEART! - holding her hand while he ate his lunch. My kids.
When she woke up this morning, she asked if it was a school day again.
I feel bittersweet about this - I'm glad that she's brave and ready and that she won't miss me, but a part of me wishes that she would, a bit, that a part of her would be just a little bit sad about not spending the days with me anymore. I've had so much fun with her.
I had always thought that I was a stay-at-home mom for my kids' sake, that this was something I was doing for them but now, after ten years of perspective, I can see that it was all for me, this tremendous gift that I gave myself. Now she is right on the cusp of her unafraid leap into the bigger world and I know that these are the very best days of my whole life, these leisurely days with her and the days I spent with her brother and sister, and that for the rest of my life this will be the golden remembered time, this radiant center of my all of my days.
So the principal led The Baby around, showing her the music room with its drums and the tall piano, showing her the library (which smelled like books and little kids' feet), showing her the kindergarten classroom with the easels and the rugs and the four pre-kindergartners gathered together, so much bigger than her, and their young, whisper-voiced teacher. And she was utterly unafraid - of course! - and threw herself upon the rug and said off-handedly to me that I could go home now.
Ha.
She hung out with the kindergarten class while I went down to the office and filled out a huge swath of paperwork. Some of the questions were unintentionally hilarious, like "How does your child react when they don't get their way?"
I told my husband about this later and we laughed. He said that I should have written "If you are smart, you will never find out." I merely wrote "fury", but her teacher will certainly find out soon enough anyhow. She has a bad temper, my child, which goes nicely with her also being as brave as a little bear. When I came back, she was sitting with her brother and his friends and he was - MY HEART! - holding her hand while he ate his lunch. My kids.
When she woke up this morning, she asked if it was a school day again.
I feel bittersweet about this - I'm glad that she's brave and ready and that she won't miss me, but a part of me wishes that she would, a bit, that a part of her would be just a little bit sad about not spending the days with me anymore. I've had so much fun with her.
I had always thought that I was a stay-at-home mom for my kids' sake, that this was something I was doing for them but now, after ten years of perspective, I can see that it was all for me, this tremendous gift that I gave myself. Now she is right on the cusp of her unafraid leap into the bigger world and I know that these are the very best days of my whole life, these leisurely days with her and the days I spent with her brother and sister, and that for the rest of my life this will be the golden remembered time, this radiant center of my all of my days.
Monday, 2 February, 2009
WE Lived!
But barely. The party was thrown, St. Brigid's day was celebrated and I wrote about in melancholy fashion over here.
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