Saturday, December 17, 2011

The Best of 2011: Music

Mode of distraction: Last-minute online Christmas shopping.
Distracting me from: Injury frustration. 

It's the end of the year, and that means I join every blog in the blogosphere with my second annual year-end countdown. However, what makes my countdown different (I've decided) is that I'm not merely counting down music and movies that were released in 2011, but ones I experienced in 2011. It opens up the list to paint a more accurate picture of what my year was like. And since this is my blog, that's all that matters. No scoffing at how belated I am with certain albums and movies!

First up: MUSIC.

- ALBUMS - 

01. Stronger, Kelly Clarkson - Biased? Maybe a little bit. But it was going to take something special even for Kelly to top Adele's masterful 21, and she delivered. The album is easy enough to shrug off as more or less more of the same, but it only takes a few listens to see that Kelly's focus in this album is herself, not the men (er, man) who did her wrong. She subtly lashes out at label executives and the media, but never without pulling back to herself and pushing herself to the next step, which, for her, is her 30s--real adulthood. With a voice that only continues to become more full and evocative, she soars to new heights here...I just people start to catch on.
02. 21, Adele - There are only a handful of music year-end lists in which Adele's name isn't in the mix, and there's a good reason for that: the simple perfection that is this album. Each melody and lyric demonstrates remarkable, but always effortless, craftsmanship. These aren't songs that were toiled over, forced into creation. The songs flowed, and her voice followed--neither one completely flawlessly, but with complete authenticity.
03. Bon Iver, Bon Iver - Only very recently discovered this and am still sorting my way through it, but the melancholy sound and gripping harmonies give me chills. The lyrics feel original, personal, and poetic, and it's my favorite musical discovery of the year. 
04. Born This Way, Lady Gaga - Now this is a record that sounds toiled over. It's overwrought and overworked, but there's such a strong sense of creation, of effort, of exploration, and even some fun, that its impressiveness lies in its audacity. It's no surprise Gaga hasn't found the same pop radio magic with this darker, twisted album, taking religious and disco influences in near equal amounts. It's energetic and frenzied, occasionally distracting, but never boring.
05. 4, Beyonce - A grower of an album if I ever found one. I only ever gave "Run the World" a chance because of her stellar Billboard performance, but other than the euphoric (and perfect) "Love On Top," I was uninterested. But track by track, the R&B album grew on me, as did Beyonce's voice, which had never been a favorite of mine, but sounds smooth and strong here.
06. Ceremonials, Florence + The Machine - Like Born This Way, this album comes close to suffering from simply too much. Everything--vocals, instrumentals, song construction, lyrics--are pushed to the band's maximum, and begins to weight the album down. Fortunately, the finished product is strong and interesting and different and creative, and, therefore, mostly successful, even if after five complete listens, I still can't pick out a single track beyond "Shake It Out," the lead single. This is one that takes a while to marinate.
07. Only By The Night, Kings of Leon - Yep, it's a few years old, but not to me. I was aware of (how could you not be?) and enjoyed "Use Somebody," but never compelled enough to listen further. And then I heard "Closer" somewhere, and I bought the album without previewing another track. There's something haunting about that track, and while it's still the highlight of the album for me, the album maintains that gritty, dark, intriguing quality throughout.
08. Femme Fatale, Britney Spears - Not everything has to be chalk-full of meaning; sometimes music can just be fun to listen to (and dance to and drink to and sing to), and that's what Britney's seventh studio album it is. It all too often sounds phoned in and fixed up by producers, but that doesn't detract from the sexy power of "Hold It Against Me," "Inside Out," "Criminal," and a handful of other jams sprinkled across this up-tempo album.
09. Mylo Xyloto, Coldplay - I've never been a huge Coldplay fan, so it seems ridiculous that one of their more critically panned albums worked its way into my iTunes. Maybe it really means I need to explore more from them, but there is a strong (perhaps even too strong) cohesion to the record, with ear-pleasing synthy tracks and airy vocals, highlighted by a surprisingly successful duet with Rihanna in "Princess of China."  
10. It's Not Me, It's You, Lily Allen - Another belated find...is there a better album title than this? It perfectly sums up Lily Allens' dry, cynical, middle finger pop attitude, and while this album isn't as slick as her delightfully prickly debut, she's still operating to her strengths: mean-spirited, giggly barbs over sunny pop beats and catchy melodies.

- SONGS - 

01. "Set Fire to the Rain," Adele - No amount of Kelly favoritism was going to top this song this year (unless a certain leaked demo was officially released--then it would have been tight). This has everything I would want in a song. It gives me chills on my 168th listen. It builds to a climax so gratifying, so emotional, that I can't help but get sucked into that last chorus every single time. Adele takes us on a spiraling, vengeful journey that leaves me reeling by the end (and usually pressing repeat). It easily catapults itself to one of my all-time favorite songs.
02. "Dark Side," Kelly Clarkson - If this eventually becomes a single, it will be difficult to leave off my list next year, and there are many songs off Stronger biting at its heels--"Honestly," "You Can't Win," "What Doesn't Kill You (Stronger)," "Breaking Your Own Heart"--but ultimately this haunting, ethereal, almost Twilight Zone-ish sound wins out. Kelly morphs her voice to something almost otherworldly, blending dance-pop and soul in a way that I've never heard from her. The song has a yearning vulnerability to it, but the haunting part is that she's still guarded--the sound of a music box creaks open and she begs for someone to accept her dark side, but her voice fades away at the end of the song and the music box closes; she's not ready yet.
03. "Changing Colours," Great Lake Swimmers - New to me, and one of the most painfully honest relationship songs I've ever heard. Though it's certainly (and thankfully) too tragic to be applicable to my relationship, there's value to digesting, dealing with, and accepting feelings as they come, no matter what the outcome. This feels like it goes beyond just being a song, to me; it's like a work of art.
04. "Love On Top," Beyonce - ...well fuck that, let's have FUN. I'm in love, dammit, and it doesn't always have to be so dreary. This track is energy. It makes me smile, makes me dance, and makes me sing along to every ridiculous key change. Beyonce's never sounded better, and I will mourn the day I don't hear this and immediately start to jam (though that will probably mean I'm just dead).
05. "Princess of China," Coldplay feat. Rihanna - Usually, for me to really connect to a song, I need a strong vocal and/or lyrics. Simply being catchy will get me to like a song, but not really love it. What seems to matter least is the production--not that it doesn't matter, but it's not my priority. However, it's this track's production that gets me going. I'm not knowledgeable enough to say what instruments capture that buzzing, electronic quality, but the sound of this track is nothing short of epic. The distant, tinny vocals here only work to enhance the metallic feeling of the song, and it all comes together really well.
06. "Help Yourself," Sad Brad Smith - This is cheating even under my list parameters, because I technically heard this song when I saw the movie Up in the Air a few years ago, but I didn't buy it until this year, and it hasn't left my playlist. It's just such a...diddy of a song. I don't know, it makes me happy. The harmonies, the simple instrumentation, the I'll-stand-by-you-but-take-your-time lyrics, it's like the sonic version of having a best friend.
07. "4 AM," Melanie Fiona - A criminally underrated R&B songstress, this is one of the sexiest songs of the year, even though the protagonist isn't getting any because it's 4 a.m. and where the fuck is her man? But you could fry an egg on the track of this song it's so smouldering, and if this is a sign of things to come, Melanie's second album will be even better than her first.
08. "Holocene," Bon Iver - Like his album, I haven't completely cracked the code of this song, but the sound stops me in my tracks. The first time I heard it, I wanted to tear up and I didn't even know what he was singing about.
09. "Scarborough Fair," Simon & Garfunkel - Whoops, I'm several decades behind, etc. This song plays in a wonderfully constructed scene in The Graduate, and it had me pulling out Shazaam and cursing my iPhone 3GS for how slow it was acting, because I didn't want to miss the track. There's just such a relaxing quality to the falsetto singing here that I find truly mesmerizing.
10. "The Edge of Glory," Lady Gaga - The dark and sinister "Bloody Mary" and fun, inside-joke-esque "Bad Kids" were close calls to get this Gaga spot, but ultimately "The Edge of Glory" might just be the most successful song on Born This Way. It builds in all the right spots with a killer vocal and lyrics on the right side of the creative and accessible line. And who doesn't love a sax solo?

Stay tuned (or, you know, not) for the next installments on my favorite movies, books, TV shows, and personal events! (I'll give you a hint: rupturing my Achilles won't be on the list.)

Thursday, November 17, 2011

Once I Win the Lottery...A G-Chat with Karen

Mode of distraction: Fantasizing about what I'll do when I win the lottery.
Distracting me from: Blowing all my money on lottery tickets. 

G-chat. 5:35 - 5:38 p.m. Wednesday, November 16, 2011. 

me:  well, what's clearly * actually * going to happen is that i'll win the lottery and you will live in the mansion with me and alejo
and then no one has to work
our lives will be lunch break
 Karen:  that
is my new favorite quote.
"our lives will be lunch break."
i am so down with my "get obnoxiously rich" fantasy
 me:  hahahah
 Karen:  ...and then i'll have a maserati, and a dress made of diamonds...
 me:  we shall have a mini restaurant run out of our left wing kitchen
 Karen: HAHAHAHA YESSSSSSSS
 me:  right wing kitchen will be for snacks and baked goods only
and we will call it fatty kitchen
 Karen:  yes and we'll have some other famous chef in there full time
FATTY KITCHEN
omg
i can't breathe
fatty kitchen and fancy kitchen
"meet me in fatty kitchen."
 me:  hahah YES YES
 Karen:  fatty kitchen has a neverending supply of sour patch kids and smart food
 me:  mmmmmmm the government needs to get it together and give me my $214 million
 Karen:  no
joke
i want a library like in beauty and the beast, too
with rolling ladders
 me:  oh yes!
 Karen:  and huge windows.
 me:  that will be on the left, classy side of the mansion
 Karen:  we will recline in patches of sunlight on chaise lounges and ring gilt bells to summon our butlers, who will be bearing chilled mimosas
 me:  in crystal flutes that we will toss onto the floor when we're done
 Karen:  eeeeeeee! yes.
"you there. clean up this mess."
* lights cigarette with hundred dollar bill *
 me:  "too slow. fired. leave your tux at the dry cleaning station downstairs."
 Karen:  "CHEF! WE REQUIRE MORE FOIE GRAS!"
 me:  "AND HEAT THE POOL!"
 Karen:  oh god i am like, reveling in the glory of this fantasy
 me: you must mean reality
Karen:  i. love. you. hahahahaha
all i'm doing now is going through architecture tumblrs
and picking out furniture for us
 me:  oh good
a head start



Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Album Review: Kelly Clarkson's Stronger

Mode of distraction: Listening to Stronger on repeat. 
Distracting me from: Life.

 
Kelly Clarkson settles us into her fifth studio album, Stronger, by sassing and spitting the verses to mid-tempo grower "Mr. Know It All." Her delivery transitions from bratty and indignant to full and secure as she enters the chorus, substituting a rock-ish tinge for a more soulful, full tone.

That vocal transition can act as a microcosm for the entire album. Clarkson's pop/rock pseudo roots are integrated with her Aretha-obsessed American Idol roots to create a more soulful, more R&B-leaning sound. The album is also far more up-tempo (with welcomed bursts of 80s glory) than her previous albums, featuring only two true ballads on the standard edition of the album. It's a sonic progression that rivals the transition from Thankful to Breakaway, highlighted by a vocal strength that comes from her ever-improving instrument (the best in the mainstream pop landscape) and the producers letting that instrument actually shine and come to life.

And it does. In the midst of a largely cohesive production quality (remarkable considering the varied--and occasionally unproven in the top 40 landscape--producers attached to the record), Clarkson tells a variety of stories with her voice. She's settled and above it all in "Mr. Know It All" and the slow-jam "The War Is Over"; vulnerable and pleading in "Dark Side" and "Honestly" (the album's highlights are, unsurprisingly, amongst the darkest offerings); feisty and powerful in "What Doesn't Kill You," "Einstein," and "Don't Be A Girl About It" (ignore the dumb-ass "dumb + dumb = you" line  and potential sexist implications in the latter two, respectively, and give in to the excellent melodies and production); warm and open in "Standing In Front Of You"; yearning and tired in the beautiful standard edition closer "Breaking Your Own Heart"; and full of almost-30 cynicism and bite in "Let Me Down" and especially "You Can't Win," a lyrical highlight that Clarkson wrote herself.

Instead of seeming schizophrenic, the album feels very of-the-moment for Clarkson, a stark contrast to her previous album, All I Ever Wanted, a recipe book for what was on the charts as the album was being developed (not, sadly, when it came out--but such is the nature of radio baiting). There's a handful of hits to be found here, but the album doesn't feel designed for radio--it feels designed for Clarkson (whether she had a hand in writing the song or not). That might not make for the commercial success of Katy Perry's Teenage Dream or Clarkson's own Breakaway, but it does make for a great album. Even the most derivative track, "I Forgive You," reads at the very least as a cute and fitting sequel to her monster hit "Since U Been Gone."

It only takes a few listens of Stronger to realize she's ditched being hurt by and bitching about Mr. Wrong and is simply taking on all things wrong--label executives, friends, family, the media, and, yes, a foolish ex or two--in the name of new-found strength, empowerment, and experience. That expanded point of view is a welcome relief from our Breakup Queen, and reads genuine coming from someone who's fought against the pitfalls of the Idol machine since the beginning. She's older, wiser, and stronger--and now she has a new best album to boot. One that (finally) shows that growth in sound, experience, and vocal ability we've seen from Clarkson in person for years. 

Favorite Five:
  1. "Honestly"- A haunting, wailing track that begs for the truth at any cost with Clarkson's most evocative studio vocals to date.
  2. "Dark Side"- A creepy-yet-dance-y plea for a lover to accept all sides of her.
  3. "You Can't Win"- In throwing back every jab ever thrown at her, Clarkson makes an intensely personal song utterly universal. And a lot of fun.
  4. "What Doesn't Kill You (Stronger)"- New gay anthem! *jams*
  5. "Breaking Your Own Heart" - A drained warning to someone she still believes in, but not for long. An emotional high point of the album.

Grade: A


 

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

The Wasteland

Mode of distraction: A.D.D. and apathy.
Distracting me from: All productivity.


So. I'm trying this again.

It's not my fault I've been so bad at posting. I've been too busy reading Karen's deliciously cute and crafty blog while simultaneously hiding from its superiority. Plus, I've been really lazy lately.

Post-MFA graduation has found me first celebrating my new-found freedom and free time, and then found me wallowing in it. Melting into it. Submerged from toe to nose. Etc.

Not that I've been a total slob. I work full time, I joined 24 Hour Fitness in the wake of losing my student gym membership (and I'm actually going), I'm still in a fully function and even more fully satisfying relationship, and I'm still reading (currently Franzen's The Corrections). But still. Something about the last month has felt like trudging...fun trudging, but trudging.

I think October is going to change that, mostly because I've decided it will. I'm at the brink of getting myself into a small, lovely workshop situation again, with a peer's manuscript crisp from the printer ready for a review, another peer's thesis to review, and my own novel to work on for said workshop.

October will be feature a welcomed integration of new to kick my ass out of Neutral, including (but not limited to):
  • Draft 2 of Muscle Memory - I have started on this, but not much. There is a big new scene I have in mind that will come pretty early, and while it won't shift the book's overall plot, I think it will set me on a more character-enriching path that should color the rest of the story. In theory. 
  • A new writing community - I've missed this being a part of my life, and I think being with like-minded creative folk will do me good. 
  • Oscar time - With the unveiling of the Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close trailer, Oscar season has officially begun. This gets my blood going. I've already seen The Help (great) and Contagion (pretty good), and there are a host of movies I'm ready to bus over to Kabuki for, dragging whoever is willing to join me. Time to start brainstorming Oscar party prizes...
  • Kelly Clarkson's new CD, Stronger - Can't. Even. Wait. It's been two and half years since her last studio album, which--to be honest--was more a collection of solid, of-the-moment pop tracks, leaving the album feeling a bit more like a collection of current sounds than a fully conceived album. With 75 demos and old songs leaking courtesy of thieves and fans even more intense than yours truly, I've heard about half the album in demo form and...it's fabulous. I did the superfan pre-order thing which provides me with a deluxe CD and a bonus EP...all in all, 23 new Kelly Clarkson tracks to spin the shit out of come October 24 (or whenever it leaks). 
  • Even more reading - On the list: The Elegance of the Hedgehog, Everything Ravaged, Everything Burned, The Help, Dangerous Laughter, The Handmaid's Tale, and Bastard Out of Carolina...or whatever comes my way. 
  • Halloween - I still have no costume in mind, but I always kind of rock that part, so I'm sure something will come up. (I really am getting anxious about this though). 
And now I'm off to get started. 


    Tuesday, September 6, 2011

    Dr. Google

    Mode of distraction: Watching Roseanne's Nuts.
    Distracting me from: Icing my ankle.

    Since last Sunday, I've been consuming Advil and icing my foot in a way that brings me back to my early teen years as a professional gymnast. Only this time, there were no doctor visits to diagnose sprains or stress fracture hot spots. All I needed was Google. I typed in my symptoms ("...and waited for cancer to appear on the screen," Miranda Hobbes) and searched through a variety of articles (both Wikipedia and legitimate) until I determined my own medical diagnosis for the pain that has registered me a full-fledged gimp all week long: a high ankle sprain.

    If it sounds serious, it's because it is. I suspect the sprain came about in a similar fashion as Kerri Strug's heroic vault 15 years ago:

     

    ...that, or it came from over-use. Which makes about as much sense as you would think. I have been committed to working out lately, but I've actually lessened my cardio because I was burning too many calories and hindering my muscles that are just itching to bulge out of my skin. All it took was a routine weekend run with my boyfriend and there was immediate pain in my ankle that quickly became more intense and less focused on just my ankle and took over my whole lower leg. Of course, I didn't actually stop until I was as far as possible (given my new, lesser endurance) from my apartment. That was a fun walk back (and not just for me).

    Since then, my exercise has consistently only of a few floor sit-ups and some hobbled Badlands dancing and Union Square shopping, but both of which have resulted in some regret the next day and prolonged pain. All exaggerations aside, it's been a royal pain in the ass and has continued to keep me out of the gym and sitting on my ass. Which usually I like, but now I can see the years months of gym work start to evaporate off my very body.

    But today should be my last day of rest. According to Dr. Google, high ankle sprains take a longer time to heal than traditional, trauma-induced ankle sprains (see? even worse than Kerri's little injury), so that gives me a good excuse to ditch cardio for a little while longer.

    Time will tell if this pathetic replacement for a doctor's visit will come back to haunt me, seeing as I don't really know what's wrong or why it happened at all. All that really matters is that I'm in full dancing capacity for a wedding this weekend. Open bar + promises of a taco truck = no room for gimping.

    Friday, August 19, 2011

    Thesis: Facts and Figures

    Mode of distraction: Reflection satisfaction. 
    Distracting me from: Working out on my lunch break.


    1 thesis advisor
    3 full drafts 
    9 workshops
    19 submissions
    25 readers
    483 pages written in Thesis II
    873 total submission pages
    380 final thesis pages







    Wednesday, August 10, 2011

    Recipe for Coexisting with Nature

    Mode of distraction: Sorting through vacation pictures.
    Distracting me from: Final thesis edits (and insanity). 

    It may shock some of you to know that there are people out there who believe I will shun nature and the outdoors any chance I get. And I was one of them.

    I'll let that sink in.

    Contrary to that notion, there is, indeed, a way to conjure up a nature-tastic experience that I would enjoy. It's a rather simple, straightforward recipe (as all the ones I work with are):

    1 cabin (with indoor plumbing, bedding, and lots of windows--with screens)
    1-2 bottles of sunscreen
    1-2 bottles of "Off!" (or other bug repellent)
    2 pairs of sunglasses
    2 bathing suits
    Constant sun (preferably coupled with a breeze)
    Water (pool, spa, river, lake, ocean--all acceptable)
    Good people (as many as you can round up)

    Yes, I've had an epiphany. I am not a nature hater. There. I said it. I find scenery and a fast-moving river and trees and sunsets and stars all absolutely gorgeous. Breathtaking, even, when it's nature at its best. It's calming and captivating. All that good stuff.
    Private beach: serenity incarnate.

    There's just one thing.

    I need a respite. I need a place to separate myself from the earth and all its inhabitants, and I need that at my disposal. And I won't apologize for it.

    See, I have a lot of friends who can just roll up in a Jeep with a sleeping bag and climbing gear and thermal underwear and toe shoes and park themselves in the dirt for a week and have a grand ol' time, and I'm often treated as some indoor princess and pavement fanatic for not jumping at the opportunity to join them. This, however, is only partially true.

    What's wrong with enjoying nature from the occasional distance? Nothing, I say. Put me in a campground all day--I'll bask in the sun, soak in the river, pee in the bushes. I'll do it all...so long as when the sun goes down and the liquor dries out, I can return to a cabin with doors and indoor plumbing to rest, cleanse, and sleep.

    All these needs--which, really, aren't much--were met on my recent trip to Leavenworth, WA for the McKay family reunion, and it was a great time. This was no surprise, but I did come to realize that I can get that warm, fuzzy feeling with nature, so long as I'm not left for dead inside it. But I do get it. As I stood with my boyfriend and Aunt Tavi on our cabin deck, which overlooked the maddening and mesmerizing Icicle River, my aunt said, "No matter what's going on in my life, good or bad, I can come here and look at the river and know that it will always be here and always be flowing," and there's something to that idea that really resonates. Especially in the midst of my end-of-thesis craze.


    Needless to say, seeing the McKay family again--and having Alex come--was a truly wonderful time, and I know I could really enjoy it because I had a place to come "home" to at the end of the day. And if that makes me an indoor princess who hates nature, well...fuck you, you're wrong. I just need my nature a little watered down.

    You enjoy your dirt hole, and I'll enjoy my flushing toilet.

    Sunday, July 17, 2011

    Bachelor Weekend

    Mode of distraction: Roseanne marathon.
    Distracting me from: Cleaning the bedroom. 

    Alex went down to L.A. this weekend for his sister's birthday and a family photo, and I chose to stay behind. The last four weekends have all revolved around day drinking and/or thesis work, and every evening has been devoted to thesis work alone. But this weekend I'm waiting on feedback for my second half of my novel, I was free. In every sense of the word.

    The apartment was mine. All to myself. As was the city. All the freedom in the world (within the confines of a monogamous relationship, of course). Here's a breakdown of my weekend:

    My uniform and post for the weekend.
     Friday Night
    -"Writing without Walls" reading (hit and miss, to be honest, but USFers triumphed and I had one of my most fun conversations evaaar with my beloved Karen)
    -Frozen ravioli dinner
    -Sex and the City marathon
    -Couldn't fall asleep, so I made good use of the internet and...finally fell asleep

    Saturday Morning/Day
    -Watched the first two recorded episodes of Roseanne's Nuts (healthy doses of funny and crazy--typical Roseanne)
    -Went to the gym (On. A. Saturday.)
    -Cleaned the bathroom

    Saturday Night
    -Got takeout from "Bistro Gambrinus" across the street (not the best salmon burger ever, but great fries)
    -Watched For Your Consideration 
    -Downloaded more Kelly Clarkson leaks (have yet to listen--have had mental tug-of-war about what to do since)
    -Read more of the brilliant Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close

    Sunday 
    -Went to Starbucks, got a pastry, and watched Doubt 
    -Long, good talk with my mom
    -Roseanne marathon

    This is a long-winded way of saying I did jack shit, and it felt awesome. Yes, it could have been fun to fly solo in the Castro to see if I can score a free drink or two, but the aforementioned weekend alcohol binges left me promising myself a detox weekend. And I think it was the right choice. I haven't felt lazier or better. I feel re-energized and refreshed, which will be necessary as the thesis is due in exactly one month. I also wanted to clean the whole apartment this weekend, but it's already 4:30 p.m. on Sunday and all that's done is the bathroom, so... 

    One other thing: I'm not a fan of sleeping alone. I'll be very gladly welcoming Alex home in a few hours...it just may not be to a clean apartment.

    Wednesday, June 22, 2011

    Stuff that Brings Out the Gay

    Mode of distraction: Watching live Adele performances. 
    Distracting me from: Putting clean laundry away. 

    It's Gay Pride Month! Pride is a mere few days away, but the gay gene knows nor cares about any such calendar. No matter the month, there are a few things that will send me into a queeny fit faster than Shangela in a lip-sync competition. I realized this at the gym today when, while lifting dumbbells, N*SYNC's "Bye Bye Bye" came on and it was only due to the struggle to lift the dumbbells that I didn't break into an all-out dance in front of the wall-to-wall mirrors. So, in the spirit of the month, I've been pontificating as to what triggers my inner gay to become an outer one. And because I'm OCD like that, I had to make enough to do rainbow colors. Deal.
    ~
    1. Halloween
    I mean, duh. Costumes, makeup, candy, alcohol, parties, dancing...sign me up for twice a year. And though I only dipped into drag once, it was really amazing, if I do say so myself (if completely wasted on a Davis audience):
    AbFab, natch.

    2. Wedding dance floors
    There's something about them--the age range, the go-to 80s songs, the open bar (ideally), and--most often--my sister and mother at my side that just puts me in my element.

    3. Nostalgic bubblegum pop/R&B
    Including, but not limited to, early Britney and Destiny's Child, as well as "The Boy is Mine," "Hit 'Em Up Style," "Bye Bye Bye," "Wannabe," "Genie In A Bottle," "Faded" and "Are You That Somebody?"

    4. Champagne
    It's alcohol. Bubbly alcohol. Bubbly alcohol that's perfectly acceptable to consume morning, noon, and night. Check.

    5. My favorite famous females


    5. Scrapbooking
    SHUT UP. I've made three (well, two, but my Davis one required two scrapbooks to fit all the modness) and I love them. Too expensive and time consuming to do regularly (plus I'm sure at some point I'd actually acquire menopause), but I love putting on my headphones and crafting out at 3 a.m.


    6. Movies I've memorized
    There are comedies that are so good, committing them to memory just sort of happens. Such films include The Birdcage, Death Becomes Her, Drop Dead Gorgeous, and Best In Show. Proper intonation required while going through dialogue with those special family and friends that have memorized them, too.
    ~
    So voilà. Bask in my pride, and what brings it out faster than anything else. Well, except for, you know, naked men. Attractive naked men in particular. And this guy in most particular:

    Thursday, June 2, 2011

    Oprah and I Turn 25

    Mode of distraction: Contemplating a lifetime (i.e., spending too much time on YouTube for the purposes of this post).
    Distracting me from: Getting back to work. 

    "25? Fuck I'm old!"

    I've been waiting to say that phrase since I first saw the Sex and the City episode it belongs to back in the early 2000s, when I finally came around and caught up on this show. A drunk loser says it during Carrie's birthday dinner from hell (she's turning 35, by the way).


    And now I can finally say it. Time most definitely flies.

    But this is where Oprah and I differ. Oprah, after a mere 25 years, is calling it quits. This bitch. What kind of message is that sending to those like me, only just turning 25? Is it really over now? All downhill from here? Oprah has proven herself a truly savvy businesswoman--maybe she just knows when to get out, while I (and most others) do not.

    If 25 really is the peak, then I'm giving myself a slice of Oprah and doing a very special birthday blog post. Iiiiiiiiit's...

    MY FAVORITE THINGS!!!

    Having lived/survived/managed/grown/learned/succeeded/failed for a quarter of a century now, and because--again--Oprah and I have just so much in common, I'm going to reflect on the things that make me me, broken down into key (superficial) facets. And you will watch. Because it's my birthday (week).


    No, this is not going to be a list of my favorite movies of all time (mullhollanddrthebirdcagedeathbecomeshermoulinrougerequiemforadreamangelsinamerica). Movies have been a part of my being since, well, yeah, seeing all the Disney movies growing up. But I really think A Fish Called Wanda earns the most credit for shaping me, my love for movies, and my family's intimate connection with them. I think I first saw this Rated R flick at age, what, seven? And Jamie Lee Curtis' swiftly delivered "What about my tits?" line proved to be absolutely the funniest thing I'd ever heard in my life to that point. It marked the transition from movie watching to movie memorizing, and my entire family can repeat lines to that movie on a dime. That, my friends, is how you judge a comedy.

    True to growing-up form, I have continued to love and appreciate the movies watched and recited with my family, while moving on and finding my own. My #1 most quotable comedy goes to none other than Mike Nichol's sublime The Birdcage. It's simply the best. And trust that TRAC and I can quote the entire thing, from start to finish, with perfect intonation.


    Sigh, Nathan Lane really did deserve an Oscar for this role. Perfection.


    Admittedly, my appreciation for music came late in life. Most of my early CDs were simply movie soundtracks (such as the one for Speed 2, and I'm not even kidding). Though, I must give props to TLC, who managed to break through my ignorance with CrazySexyCool--the first CD I ever purchased and one I both still own and love.

    But even TLC was no match for one voice that would shine above the rest (well, okay, two if you count my sister, because her voice does all the same things for me). In 2002, two things happened: my sister became interested in Broadway singers as she started voice lessons, and American Idol started. Upon listening to Linda Eder blasted through my sister's walls, I realized I really appreciated that she had such a good voice. That gay tuning fork inside me began to ring, and just as my love for big-voiced divas was finally starting to take shape, an adorably confident and humble Kelly Clarkson took the cheap, Season-One stage of American Idol to belt out a twangy and pitch-fucking-perfect "Respect."


    Seriously, how cute is she? And amazing? I thought so, too. I really liked Tamyra as well, and still think they're the best contestants to ever grace this rapidly declining show (that I haven't actually watched since Season Five). I went through a big-voiced diva phase (Whitney, Mariah, Celine, Barbra, Linda, etc.), and while I still like and appreciate their talent, my musical taste has since expanded greatly. But my love for Kelly Clarkson has only grown. Her voice is phenom, she can sing anything, and she just seems like a way cool person. I'd post more videos, but I don't want to lose you, and when her new album drops this fall I'm pretty sure I'll be dedicating a whole post to her anyway.


    Can't forget this. I grew up a terrible speller, probably from some mix of laziness and my first-grade teacher who had us write in journals every morning using "inventive spelling." She just wanted us to write and not worry about the technicalities. So...I didn't. Until my best friend, Kevin, in fifth grade, in big letters, on the big whiteboard, wrote "BROCKEN" and explained to anyone listening that this was how I continually misspelled "broken." Oh, the shame. But hey, it kick-started me into getting my shit together. And now I am a copywriter, editor, and soon-to-be-recipient of an MFA in Writing. Who knew?

    But I must credit one teacher for really making me realize I had a knack for writing, even though I hated her (for, like, two seconds) for doing so. We had an assignment in seventh grade to write about a personal experience. I wrote about the time my dick of a third grade history teacher gave me an F on a test--my first F--and I realized he actually marked one of my answers as incorrect when it was correct. He looked it over, nodded, and put a "+" mark next to my F. Piece. Of. Shit. Anyway, my seventh grade teacher thought the story was so good (it sort of writes itself, doesn't it?) she read it aloud in class. Embarrassing, but then I knew I was good at something. It took plenty more years and teacher confirmations before I pursued creative writing aggressively, but that was the start.




    I need my TV time. I just do. It's how I unwind. I watch it all, from brilliantly written shows like Weeds, Damages, and Modern Family to trashy reality TV like the Real Housewives franchises (even the shitty ones like Miami and D.C.). I get absorbed and happy when I watch, so I don't care what you say. And when it comes to marathoning a favorite, it doesn't get any better than the groundbreaking and beloved Roseanne.



    Finally, gymnastics. Yes, I did a sport. Only for fun, but it's been a huge part of my life and, through the magic of YouTube, still is. I use to watch it endlessly, and left patches of dead grass in my backyard from where my feet hit as I ran up to our trampoline. It's the most demanding and spectacular sport there is. And over the years, my numerous favorite gymnasts over the years have changed and finally settled on one: Vanessa Atler. She is far from a household name, but was touted to be the next big name in 1997. Her talent, at least in the United States, was truly unsurpassed, but a lack of mental toughness and confidence (plus eventual surgeries and an eating disorder, as well as a host of other disadvantages) left her off the 2000 Olympic Team. I was there with my family for those Olympic Trials, and it was heartbreaking to watch her fall so  spectacularly apart. But now I remember her fondly for her power and spirit, and this routine remains my favorite floor routine of all time.


    The choreography is great and so well executed, but that first pass is really what stands out. Unreal. Incidentally, I ended up writing her on Facebook to geek out for a bit and she responded and was really sweet. Win.


    Um, pretty much deserves her own mention. And I've met her. It might have been as a brace-faced 15-year-old who announced to her within seconds of meeting her that Death Becomes Her was my favorite movie of all time (we were at the Academy Award rehearsals for the year she received her Adaptation nomination, by the way...), but I still met her so I still win. Proof that my 25 years is superior to Oprah's is right here:


    So, that about covers it for this epic blog post. But you only turn 25 once. And, yes, obviously, I would be nowhere (quite literally) without my family. They are everything. I couldn't have asked for more love, support, inspiration, humor, and drama (you have to have the drama or then you just grew up too lucky and jaded). And, since I'm a total mamma's boy, my mother deserves her own special shout out on this monumental occasion. You really are the best.

    You're now free to get back to your daily routines. For all those people in my life who I both like and love, thank you for making this all so worthwhile that I am, unlike Oprah, continuing with life after 25. It seems like the thing to do. For all those people in my life who I both dislike and hate, fuck you. You're probably necessary to keep me grounded and all that, and for that I...well, whatever, I still don't like you.

    Friday, May 27, 2011

    Anorexia-Alcoholism: An Unfortunate Hybrid

    Mode of distraction: Trying (and failing) to come up with a Brangelina-esque word for anorexia-alcoholism that I like enough to put in the title. 
    Distracting me from: Actually eating lunch on my lunch break. 

    As I'm days away from turning 25, the dust from turning 21 has most definitely settled and being able to order drinks at bars, clubs, restaurants, and airplanes has become second nature (okay, ordering on airplanes still feels fun). But, as discussed in a previous entry, I've become focused on this "getting in shape" situation and try to get to the gym 4-5 times a week, and now that I've been doing that for a few months, it should surprise exactly no one who knows me that I've entered the obsessive realm. Not going four times a week feels like failing, and I've come to contemplate everything I put in my mouth (sigh...dick joke, snicker, etc.).

    I was out to dinner with Alex's family last night at the delicious Patxi's Chicago Pizza in Hayes Valley, and we discussed the availability of wine and beer. Beer actually sounded good, but I turned it down (in favor of Coke, which really makes no sense for the topic of this blog, but whatever). Almost always at restaurants nowadays I get water, not alcohol. Same for when friends come over for movie nights. In the days of yore I would have enjoyed a nice glass of wine or three to unwind, but now I'll just stick with water or one of the remaining Big Sticks (sigh...dick joke, snicker, etc.) in my freezer from San Francisco's random sunny weekends.

    Why? I don't typically want to drink alcohol unless I'm going to get drunk.

    Quintessential 21st birthday shot.
    Yikes. Really? But yes, it's true. Alcohol, like all things great, is filled with calories, and why waste them when I'm not even going to reap their full benefits? Granted, I'm not trying to lose weight, but I do have pesky lower belly fat that I stare at incessantly upon entering and exiting the shower, and I'm pretty sure that it's a physical manifestation of my drug of choice. Or just natural body fat that would require a more serious exercise/diet effort to lose than I'm willing/able to perform. Either way, it's there, and I'd rather it not be...unless the upside is a lowered sense of awareness while dancing with my favorite people in a crowded, trashy, loud environment. Or shit talking on my couch. Or dodging rats at Hobson's.

    So, I've completed Step One. I've admitted I have a problem. Therefore, I'll be pouring myself a singular glass of wine now as soon as I'm off work.

    I feel better already.

    Wednesday, May 18, 2011

    Faux Freedom

    Mode of distraction: Buying new and new-to-me music.
    Distracting me from: Thesis writing. 

    Classes. Are. Over. It was worthy, is worthy, and will continue to be worthy of a true "Raise Your Glass" moment:


    The post-final class drinks at the reliable (take as you will) Hobson's was a necessary way to end the semester. After a last class that actually ran five minutes over (I mean, WTF), I met with Karen and Alex and ranted and (practically) ran to the bar. Fairly certain I took a shot before I even said hi to anyone. After I had chased it with a few sips of a vodka tonic, I felt human and ready to socialize. It's been said in countless status updates and slurred side-hugs, but I do thank everyone (you know who you are) involved in that program who made it a really special and helpful experience. And for those of you who didn't...thanks for the stories (not the ones you wrote, necessarily, but the ones you provided nonetheless).

    The celebration couldn't last long, however, with my looming thesis deadline: a fully revised first half of my thesis due to Max on May 23. I figured this would be about 150 pages, as I see my thesis wrapping up at around 300 (currently around the 250 range), but it is now 6:30-something on May 18 and I'm at page 102. And I know I need to edit. So, methinks I've got another chapter.5 in me and then it'll be time to press print and just hope I've been overestimating the length of my story. This could all just be my body providing me with a built-in excuse because I'm so fucking tired from my continual work-gym-library combo I've been rocking these last few days.

    I did pause in productivity to partake in my first-ever Bay to Breakers! Our group was "You Are What You Drink," and I selected the delectable mimosa to represent myself. Feast your eyes on my costume-making prowess, which--coupled with my beloved Tokyo Tea--garnered praise throughout the day:


    It was a fun day--maybe eight degrees too cold, and I could have done without a slew of straight boys turning my apartment to a bigger mess than our housewarming party did in about half the time, but what are you gonna do? Why, bitch about it on your blog, of course! Oh, and boys--I know dick aiming becomes only more taxing while intoxicated, but seriously--the amount of piss on my toilet seat caused Hobson's flashbacks. Gain control or sit down until you can piss like a lady.

    ...

    Anyway, off to write...because school ain't over yet.

    Friday, May 13, 2011

    Aloe Vera and Adrienne Villafana

    Mode of distraction: Putting my new Kelly Clarkson song leak on repeat.
    Distracting me from: Getting changed for a celebratory dinner at Tataki.

    Okay, so, I meant to do this blog post a week ago. Everyone get in your mental Deloreans and pretend this was last week. This also explains why my post isn't about my very last week of class EVER, but I need more distance to write about that. All I could say about that now is...

    So, onto last week, because it was a good one, and because my foot is still peeling from the sunburn. That's right. SUNBURN. We had a hot, nice, amazing weekend in San Francisco. So nice, in fact, that Alex and myself took a trip to Golden Gate Park with Elliot's little well-behaved mongrel, Moose, and laid out in the sun. Shirtless and everything--and I was relieved to discover that everyone in San Francisco was in the same pasty position I was. I covered myself in sunscreen from head to toe mid-shin. I have no idea why I just didn't commit to the whole leg, but I burnt pretty badly there. Thank god for Aloe Vera. Imagine if I hadn't put any sunscreen on? I'd have taken all the Vicodin I could find and slept in a bathtub for five days.

    Speaking of Aloe Vera, my beloved Adrienne Villafana (see what I did there?) visited all the way from ho-hum Washington D.C. for the weekend! We kicked off the visit with a potluck at Elliot's, then drank and danced the night away on Friday, Davis style--with King's Cup and everything!


    Turned out, we drank a little too much (I know, I was shocked, too), because one of our friends had a real college flashback and ended up throwing up all night while I grabbed wads of her hair from her face and sat on the kitchen floor with her...alone...for hours. Really brings me back.

    We had scheduled a more low-key game night for Saturday, but after a series of truly unfortunate events, that didn't happen. I was ready to kinda sorta lose my shit about it (because it was a plan! and Adrienne was only here for a short time! and I hate stupid decisions! and it was a plan!), but Alex convinced me to not go on a total Danny tirade when Elliot and Adrienne finally arrived at our place at 11:30, and so I just went to bed. The next morning, before Adrienne had to go back to the airport, we had what can only be described as a perfectly lovely brunch. It was a great way to end the trip. There's a lesson here somewhere, but...I'm gonna go ahead and ignore that.

    Needless to say, it was amazing having Adrienne back. It felt so natural, like she had only been gone two weeks. And I think we showered her with enough love that she'll be back settled in San Francisco by the end of 2012. I'm calling it. Make it happen, darling, because I miss you already!

    Sunday, May 1, 2011

    New Year's Resolution: Checking In

    Mode of distraction: Body dysmorphia.
    Distracting me from: Tending to my sunburned foot.

    My New Year's resolution for the past five years or so has been the same vague, tired, cliche wish: to get in shape. I have a naturally fast metabolism and difficulty putting on any real weight, which garners me no sympathy...and no substantial muscle mass. Thus, getting into optimal shape has yet to really take place.

    Also, I hate working out.

    But this year, I have been faithfully going to the gym since the beginning of February and am actually getting to the point where I can see improvement. This presents a predicament: I had sort of assumed I had the sort of DNA that simply wouldn't allow this to happen, no matter what I did. There. Absolved of responsibility.

    While I'm hardly busting out of my XS t-shirts, things are improving, so...fuck. I guess it just means I need to really work at it. How ugly. My goal this time, however, is more focused: I want to look like this by the time I turn in my thesis this coming August:


    Guffaw. The reality is that I'll fall short of this, but it seems within physical reason...ish...to pursue nonetheless. I'm just gonna go ahead and ignore who this is, but which of you queens don't need the face to know the name? Also, since I've neglected the blog for so long, I knew I had to lure in all my lost readers (all 13 of you!) with a bit o' flesh. Sort of like a desperate TV show that has jumped the shark in its first season.

    In other far more important news, Adrienne returned to San Francisco for a visit this week! It was a pretty glorious weekend in general (hence the sunburn), but I'll save that post for later this week. Gotta get back into the habit of doing this and making those distractions count for something moderately productive.

    Off to either take advantage of the sun or take advantage of a napping boyfriend and get some thesis work done.

    Or, likely, more distractions...

    Wednesday, March 23, 2011

    Car-Free in San Francisco

    Mode of distraction: Celebrating no longer having to move a car for street cleaning days.
    Distracting me from: ...paying my last parking ticket.

    Lowering my carbon footprint. Sticking it to high gas prices. Helping the environment. Acknowledging my budget by utilizing public transportation.

    None of that really matters. I'm car-free in San Francisco and all I care about is that I don't have to move the car twice a week for street cleaning. REJOICE!

    Mi amor y yo made a fairly impromptu trip down to LA on the tail end of my spring break to deposit said inconvenience machine at his house, where it will stay until it is sold (then we'll really rejoice). This began with a 5:45 am start time.



    Once we made it past the bridge, we embarked on our drive down the desolate I-5 waiting for the sun to rise. Which it did, slowly and with fairly muted colors of blue (not the golden red eye-gasm I was hoping for).



    And then, the unthinkable. A pair of Central California criminals caught up to our car in their motorcycle and ripped my phone out of my own hands. Distraught but not deterred, we took our losses and kept on with our trip home. About an hour later, I noticed something shimmer amongst the yellowing grass and dry dirt. Could it be? Yes, it was my phone! I inspected it immediately, and came across a crucial bit of evidence to find the thieves:



    They went to McDonalds. For breakfast. How atrocious. Clearly, after loading up on delectable disgusting food items such as two sausage and egg McMuffins, two hashbrowns and two orange juices (...or something), their fat, stubby fingers were too greasy to hold on to the stolen phone and it must have flown free from their grasp. Pathetic.

    Phone safely returned, we made it home in five and a half hours with an easy, unremarkable drive. The weekend home was typical of quick weekends home--too many people to see and not enough time, but this was pretty successful. Got to go into the office, watch a movie with the family, and visit SF abandoners Will and Jace in their super-cute new LA apartment in which we watched hours of RuPaul's Drag Race with a few cocktails (not Absolut...sorry, Ru). Sadly, didn't get to see much of my sister as she was too busy making her director cry while rehearsing her solo for her up-coming role in Pizazz.

    The flight back was rather long for an LA to SF trip. If anyone is ever feeling particularly masochistic and wants to witness a cesspool of human stupidity and selfishness, just hop on down to your local airport and go through security. Good Christ. What is it about a metal detector that is so difficult to comprehend? If you're wearing metal, it detects it. This middle-aged woman with a frumpy neon green sweater and bleached, wet-looking hair failed a solid three times in a row before finally removing her bracelets, muttering to herself "Unbelievable, they didn't go off in LA."

    This bitch. So, you were aware of your K-Mart metallic accessories, and yet in spite of three botched attempts to walk those two steps through the security device, it didn't occur to you that perhaps you weren't going to get by like you allegedly did in LAX that one time?

    Then the line was held up because this poor woman, who has clearly been in a coma the last five-plus years and is only now traveling again, decided to bring an arsenal of Costco-sized bottles of hair and body products in her carry-on, which stopped the security conveyor belt in its tracks. She later also decided that, though she was told to enter from the rear of the plane given her rear seat assignment, she'd just go ahead and enter through the front so more people could get out of her and her mop's way.

    Directions are tricky, aren't they?

    But, no matter, we are now officially car-free in San Francisco. And I am happy.

    Sunday, February 27, 2011

    My Oscars

    Mode of distraction: Reflecting on a great year of movies and wishing I had sole control over award shows.
    Distracting me from: Workshop critiques.



    Since high school, I've been obsessed with the Academy Awards. I have always tried to see as many nominated movies as I can, to varying degrees of success throughout the years. Now that they've upped the Best Picture category to ten films, this is an even more serious endeavor. But, after several theater gift certificates, matinees, and general budget reallocating, I managed to see almost every film nominated for the big categories.

    The Oscars had their chance. This is how the actual rankings should be according to me. If you haven't seen many of these movies, save yourself the trouble and prioritize via my list. I'm including five more slots than the Oscars give, just cause this year was that good.

    *Denotes movies nominated for an Oscar
     
    Best Picture
    1. The Social Network*
    2. The King's Speech*
    3. 127 Hours*
    4. Inception *
    5. Blue Valentine
    6. Rabbit Hole
    7. Black Swan*
    8. The Kids Are All Right*
    9. The Fighter*
    10. Winter's Bone*
    11. Toy Story 3*
    12. Cyrus
    13. Howl
    14. Shutter Island
    15. True Grit*

    The top three are really interchangeable for me and all fantastic in different ways. True Grit barely makes the top 15 over Easy A, and while I saw The Town...I didn't think it was all that great. But even that had entertainment value. I can safely say I really enjoyed every film in my top 10. 

    Best Director
    1. Danny Boyle, 127 Hours
    2. Christopher Nolan, Inception
    3. David Fincher, The Social Network*
    4. Darren Aronofsky, Black Swan*
    5. Tom Hooper, The King's Speech*
    6. John Cameron Mitchell, Rabbit Hole
    7. Derek Cianfrance, Blue Valentine
    8. David O. Russell, The Fighter*
    9. Lisa Cholodenko, The Kids Are All Right
    10. Debra Granik, Winter's Bone
    -- Joel & Ethan Coen, True Grit*
     
    127 Hours was so masterfully put together that a movie that was about a man trapped in the same place and eventually has to cut his arm off wasn't either a bore or full of a distracting amount of anticipation. As for the beloved Coen brothers, sorry--your successful direction of a remake isn't enough to cut top 10. 

    Best Actor
    1. James Franco, 127 Hours*
    2. Colin Firth, The King's Speech*
    3. Ryan Gosling, Blue Valentine
    4. Jesse Eisenberg, The Social Network*
    5. Aaron Eckhart, Rabbit Hole
    6. Leonardo DiCaprio, Inception
    7. John C. Reily, Cyrus
    8. Mark Wahlberg, The Fighter
    9. Jeff Bridges, True Grit*
    10. James Franco, Howl
    --Javier Bardem, Biutiful*

    I'm thrilled Colin Firth has been doing so well this awards season--he's a terrific actor and was perfect in The King's Speech. I just think Franco had the more challenging role, and his execution was just as strong. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to see Biutiful

    Best Actress
    1. Natalie Portman, Black Swan*
    2. Nicole Kidman, Rabbit Hole*
    3. Annette Bening, The Kids Are All Right*
    4. Michelle Williams, Blue Valentine*
    5. Jennifer Lawrence, Winter's Bone*
    6. Hailee Steinfeld, True Grit
    7. Julianne Moore, The Kids Are All Right
    8. Marisa Tomei, Cyrus
    9. Rebecca Hall, The Town
    10. Emma Stone, Easy A

    Look at that--I'm in agreement with the Academy. The top three was a really tough pick--Portman had the most physically demanding role, Kidman the most emotionally demanding, and Bening is just so damn good in everything and her subtle work here was no exception. And, just to be clear, Hailee Steinfeld is listed here because she was a leading actress--she was in every damn scene of the movie. Through ridiculous campaigning that used her age and inexperience as manipulation tools, she was successfully awarded a slot in the Supporting Actress field. 

    Best Supporting Actor
    1. Christian Bale, The Fighter*
    2. Geoffrey Rush, The King's Speech*
    3. Andrew Garfield, The Social Network
    4. Miles Teller, Rabbit Hole
    5. John Hawkes, Winter's Bone*
    6. Mark Ruffalo, The Kids Are All Right
    7. Matt Damon, True Grit
    8. Ben Kingsley, Shutter Island
    9. Jonah Hill, Cyrus
    10. Jeremy Renner, The Town*

    I get that Kidman is the case in which the Academy rewards a really talented ensemble by focusing on one actor, and while she deserves the praise, so do the rest of the cast. This young actor was heartbreaking in the role of the teenager who accidentally kills the four-year old boy. And don't even get me started on Jeremy Renner's one-note performance in The Town being nominated.

    Best Supporting Actress
    1. Amy Adams, The Fighter*
    2. Melissa Leo, The Fighter*
    3. Barbara Hershey, Black Swan
    4. Dianne Wiest, Rabbit Hole
    5. Marion Cotillard, Inception  
    6. Helena Bonham Carter, The King's Speech*
    7. Mila Kunis, Black Swan
    8. Dale Dickey, Winter's Bone
    9. Patricia Clarkson, Easy A
    10. Ellen Page, Inception
    --Jacki Weaver, Animal Kingdom*

    Animal Kingdom only arrived in my mail yesterday so, sadly, I didn't have time to screen it. The Fighter women really do stand above the rest here in what is probably, overall, the weakest category this year. The first four really are great, but after that the best adjective to describe the rest are "strong" and "effective." 

    My dream is to one day have a vote in the Academy Awards. I feel my best bet is for my sister to get famous and become a member of the Academy, where she will no doubt hand her ballot straight over to me and I'll be the deciding vote in a certain leading lady trumping Katherine Hepburn's record four Oscar wins. Speaking of...
     
    Of course, the Oscars always bring back a particularly special memory for me. In 2002, Kevin and I were able to attend the Academy Award rehearsals courtesy of my mom. We were supposed to go to the actual award show, as well, but former President Bush (remember that troll?) decided to declare war and security was a nightmare. Anyway, after a rather ho-hum day, who do we spot taking flowers. None other than the backbone of American cinema: MERYL STREEP

    She was the sweetest person ever, of course. I went up to her and got to tell her something very few people ever have: "Death Becomes Her is my absolute favorite movie!" She gave a heart laugh and hugged me, and took pictures with us. Unfortunately, it was during those awkward teen years, so I don't like to flash the picture, but looking now I'm confident Meryl's radiance overpowers braces. Yes/Yes?