Project Runway Finale

So… were you happy with the outcome of Project Runway Season 4?

I’m spoiler sensitive, so… my thoughts are after the Read More!

I have to say, if I were either Heidi Klum, Michael Kors, Nina Garcia, or Vicky Beckham, I would have had a nervous breakdown. But seriously, I would totally be Heidi Klum for a day, and what a day it would be. I envy her so. Can you imagine being that tall? Or married to Seal? Or universally respected as a pretty person with a passable singing voice? Granted, I would eschew the bangs, because, WOW those look distracting, but, all things considered, she has an amazing life. AND she gets to hang out with Tim Gunn all day. I hate Heidi Klum sometimes.

What was I talking about?

CHRISTIAN WINS!! And good for him. Like I said before, I wouldn’t have been able to decide between these three incredibly talented people. It seemed a little weird picking a winner, because unlike previous seasons, they all succeeded masterfully in their respective aesthetics. Jillian’s collection was flirty, fun, and remarkably innovative (and also wearable). Rami’s collection blew my mind a little bit, and not just because I was taken aback by the lack of draping. He surprised me in a good way… the evening gowns at the end of this collection were particularly breathtaking. And then, Christian. His collection was sleek, new, and stylish. Clearly this kid knows exactly who he is as a designer, and even more surprising, he’s able to execute his vision. The whole season I was blown away by his artistic consistency. Most people his age can’t even communicate how they feel about breakfast burritos, but HE knows exactly what he wants and how to achieve it. I’m tempted to say he’s a prodigy. That’s why I was never all that grossed out by his arrogance. This kid has the goods to back it up, so I say… brag away. And really, he couldn’t have been as full of himself as the show made him seem because everyone just adored him. You could tell. And somehow, I made it through that entire paragraph without using the word FIERCE.

Li’l Sis and I discussed the outcome right after the finale aired, and she was disappointed that Rami didn’t win. And I can’t say I disagree, entirely. My joy for Christian’s victory might be more of a personal attachment than a love of his work. Christian’s collection, for me, was cohesive and true to his vision, not to mention uber-fashionable, but none of the looks really spoke to me. And this one below just made me want a frappuchino really bad.



While Rami had some stand out looks , his collection wasn’t nearly as great, FOR ME, from start to finish. I didn’t respond to any of the first few looks at all, and only sort of liked the ones in the middle. But the evening gowns that comprised his finale? Frikkin’ gorgeous!









So I was a little bit sad for Rami. But I would bet my blog that he’ll have gowns on the red carpet very soon. Rumor has it Heidi has already commissioned some of his stuff. Seriously, can we talk about those gowns? Again? I can’t stop thinking about them. Gowns like that are why we have drag queens in the world, and I’m saying right here that if I got my hands on one of those gowns I would wear it in public and no one could stop me. Of course, I’d have to lose and gain some pounds in the right places, but a bitch will TRY.

For a season that was kind of Blah from challenge to challenge, this finale brought it to a thrilling end. I don’t think there has been a top 3 so evenly matched. I firmly believe that any of the three could have taken the prize, depending on the mood in the judging room, and I even more firmly believe that Vicky Beckham was the one who tipped the judges all the way over to Christian. She was, like, enraptured by Christian and his clothes, and I couldn’t help but feel like we had just witnessed the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

The best news: they announced auditions for another season. I don’t know if anyone remembers, but there was a moment there when it wasn’t set in stone that there would be another season. I, for one, don’t even want to imagine life without this show, so I was most relieved to know Tim Gunn would be making the rounds again.

Coraline

Oh. My. God. Is right! I’m soo excited about this movie. I remember reading the book and thinking, “This would make an amazing film,” mostly because Neil Gaiman’s prose is so descriptive. He’s one of those writers whose words seem to come alive on the page.

For some reason, and I can’t remember what, Coraline was the first Gaiman book I ever read… wait, come to think of it… I read it because it was short, and I wasn’t in the mood for a door-jam kind of a book at the time. I read it in one sitting and loved all 120 minutes of it. It has been compared to Alice in Wonderland for good reason: while it is a spooky bedtime story for young readers, it’s also a surreal look into the disillusionment of growing older. I think all adults can appreciate that.

Also, the movie will be animated, which… YAY! I love animated movies, but ya’ll knew that already.

Fooled you! There's nothing here. I wish I knew how to get rid of this stupid jump page when I don't need it. I miss LJ! (just a little bit, though).

Pen To Paper

About twice a year, my office joins up with the Liberal Arts branch of the University to host a dinner party of sorts. Basically, people pay good money to sit around a dinner table with one of our faculty members and discuss issues and themes prevalent in our world. The topics range from Global Warming, to the Supernatural, to Folk Art, to Criminal Psychology… served with a lovely dinner and lots of wine. Usually, my part in this whole shindig is purely logistical, but I’m always invited to sit at one of the tables and participate if I wish. The last time I did so, I got stuck at an awful topic with a lousy table leader, and I spent most of the evening chewing like a bored cow and screaming insults in my head. I won’t say what the topic was, but let’s say it just wasn’t up my alley.

Last week, though, I sat at a table that I more than enjoyed. I had such a good time, in fact, that I came away inspired. My topic was, “From paper to print: How to get published.” The blurb on the program summarized that we would discuss the trials and pitfalls associated with the competitive, and often exclusive, publishing market, as well as some tangents into techniques used by gifted writers to break into the system.

Since this wasn’t a lecture, the conversation meandered and side-tracked many times, but I came away with some great ideas, and some ever better tricks of the trade.

Our table leader is on the English faculty here at the University, and it turns out, he’s been published eleven times… no easy feat. In the field of higher education, getting published is the most important thing to accomplish. The truth is a published work is like currency to these professors. Besides inflating their salaries, a book increases their chances of obtaining tenure. But this guy has published works of fiction, which, according to him, is a lot harder to sell than scholarly works. Having thus established his credibility, our conversation began.

As we went around the table introducing ourselves, our host asked us to throw in some tidbits about ourselves: Who is our favorite writer? What is our favorite genre to read? What are we writing right now? I was glad to discover after going all the way around that everyone at the table was about equal when it came to their accomplishments. All of us were hobbyists, hoping to learn how to take it to the next level. I mentioned that I blogged, which our host found exciting. Also at the table, a teacher interested in writing children’s books, a librarian obsessed with genealogy who wanted to turn her research into a family memoir, a stay-at-home mom dabbling in the romance area (she was so delightfully unembarrassed by this, so you have to give her credit), an advertising executive struggling to find her inspiration, and a psychiatrist eager to write some non-fiction about his experiences in the field. After sizing everyone up, our host invited us to share our experiences with writing, and even though we were all coming from different directions, our experiences were universal.

Writer’s block is something that every writer has to deal with, but together, we came up with quite a few “blockbreakers.”

1. Write everyday. Whether it’s an email to a friend or a novella, the physical act of writing helps to stimulate your muses. I mentioned that I like to write short paragraphs reacting to my latest bits of entertainment, like a new CD, or a chapter in a book, or a movie. Others jotted down the events of the day, while others simply wrote a quick verse of free-verse poetry.
2. Keep a scrap journal. Our host showed us his journal: a large, black sketch pad with all manner of media taped, glued, and/or inked inside. He collected interesting snippets from newspapers, pictures from magazines, photos, and his own short thoughts in a very unstructured way. The point of it, he said, was to gather small moments of inspiration to fall back on later, and if you’re lucky, you may begin to see patterns in your clippings, patterns that may form complete ideas later.
3. Keep a portfolio. On the other side of the coin, all writers should practice structured pieces. Unlike the scrap journal, your portfolio should be comprised of shorter, but finished works. They need not be connected or even related to one another, but they should be complete – edited, polished, and typed. Over time, the collected works can be used to solidify your “voice.” In every creative writing class anyone has ever taken, one of the assignments is keeping a journal of short articles and themes, usually provoked by a question or a topic. “What I did on my summer vacation” is a classic. That’s the kind of stuff you keep in your portfolio. There are countless websites out there full of neat, thought-provoking questions that only require about 500 words to answer.
4. Become a photographer. Many writers, apparently, find inspiration by snapping photos of stuff they see. Whether or not you snap with a strategy, a photo can be the jumping off point for a thousand different novels. Obviously, some of these photos should find their way into your scrap journal.
5. Establish writing rituals and stick to them. Of course, every writer has a different method, and the word “ritual” is relative. Some writers have to be in the same room at the same time with the same clothes using the same pen. Others, like me, just need a can of Diet Coke and a keyboard. The point, though, is a writer should be able to qualify his or her most conducive atmosphere for writing, and then be able to recreate it. Of course, a writer must also know when to break the rituals to shock themselves out of a rut, which is a much harder thing.
6. Read voraciously. Great writers should be great readers. A good book can be your greatest ally when it comes to finding inspiration. He also mentioned reading books that you wouldn’t normally read. For me, that would be non-fiction. Apparently, reading something out of your comfort zone helps to clear your hard-drive of all the rubbish clogging it up.

After that, we moved on to more specific challenges in writing, as well as different techniques good writers use to overcome them.

1. Read your work out loud. Obviously, you’ll catch any awkwardness this way. But you will also catch patterns in your writing that might go unnoticed just by scanning, such as using certain idioms or words too often. Also, good writing is musical… there’s a rhythm to it. Our host used Shakespeare as an example. People quote him often, not because he’s the most studied author in the English language, but because his stuff is easy to remember. It helps that most of it is poetry, or at least iambic pentameter. A good quote has rhythm, balance, and sense… just like a catchy melody. Reading out loud will help you “hear” your writing.
2. When writing dialogue, use your acting chops. Our host volunteered that when he writes dialogue, he writes one character at a time. He often speaks the words out loud, intentionally acting out the character’s part like he’s in a movie. If the character is well-drawn, the things they say should feel natural and inevitable.
3. Exercise with your favorites. Another tip our host offered was, strangely enough, fan-fiction. He likes to re-write his favorite moments in someone else’s novel using a different character’s point of view. It’s a common exercise, but a very illuminating one at that.
4. Write fast, edit slow. I’ve heard this one a lot. A lot of writers think it’s best to write the first draft of a work as quickly as possible, not focusing on continuity, tone, or pacing. Once the body of the piece is completed, then you go back through and rework… adding description, fixing errors, adjusting color. Our host elaborated by saying that he tries to follow a pre-determined framework or outline (the hardest part of the whole process, in his opinion) during the first phase of composition, using the idea of covering a skeleton with skin. Once the skin is on, only then does he continue with features, clothes, and accessories. The real writing is in the editing, when all the creative choices are made, and the piece begins to take on a life of its own. I can’t say I’ve experienced anything like that, but I sort of can’t wait to have it happen for myself.
5. Establish time and distance. After completing something, a writer should put it aside for a significant amount of time, depending on how long it takes for the details to leave their minds. Artists of all types have a tendency to “over-produce” and, in the heat of the creative process, the unimportant can become important, and the trivial can become supreme. Only by establishing time and distance can an author return to a piece and edit objectively. Our host told a story about a piece he wrote that was over 60,000 words when complete. After letting it ferment for six months, he came back to it and cut it down to a short story. It went on to be published and win several awards.
6. Never and always listen to critics. We laughed about this one a lot. It takes a lot of maturity as an artist of any kind to accept criticism with grace. Our host explained that criticism, both good and bad, should be taken with a grain of salt, and in his experience, good criticism can be as dangerous to your artistic health as bad. The gist of it all seemed to be: don’t ignore criticism, but don’t let pleasing others take over, either. It’s a balance… and some writers never find it. That said, we should feel free to ignore any mean-spirited criticism, because dwelling on nasty people is counterproductive in any context.


Finally, we moved on to getting published. Not surprisingly, it isn’t easy. I read quite a bit and I go to Barnes & Noble a lot, and it seems like any old junk is publishable these days, but that’s not the case. The market is so competitive that writers have to market themselves convincingly enough to land an agent, who then liaises with the publishing companies, who will alter your work any which way they want to in order to make it profitable. It seems there aren’t many Cinderella stories to speak of in the publishing world anymore. It is no wonder, then, that many writers resort to self-publication. They market and sell their work on a website, and some manage to do pretty well, as long as their work is indeed good, and there’s a demand for it. While we were talking about it, I sensed that most of us were overwhelmed with the machinations of publishing… we had no idea how complex it all was. But it doesn’t seem unattainable, either. Like all endeavors, it takes persistence, talent, and a tiny bit of luck to make it as a writer.

After wrapping up, I was almost excited, because for the first time, the idea of having something published didn’t seem so impossible. And we didn’t even talk about writing for magazines or digests, which is probably where a writer like myself would be better suited. Whoa. Did you see that? I just called myself a “writer.” Baby steps, Reeva… baby steps.

Prelude

I don’t know about anyone else, but when I’m sick, I become such a crybaby. I’ve never been the kind of person who fights through the flu, dumping gallons of over-the-counter medicine down my throat and trooping onward like everything’s fine. No, I prefer to embrace the disease. Maybe, in a weird way, the repeated hacking up of my life-force reminds me I’m alive. Maybe, in an even weirder way, I actually enjoy being sick. I love the idea of getting time off work, and I even more love the extra time for self-indulgence. Maybe I’m lucky that I’m not at a place in my life in which people are counting on me to feed them or clothe them or otherwise nurture them… or whatever, because when I’m sick, it’s all about me. So while I’m whining and moaning about how crappy I feel, I’m secretly reveling in the Me-Time.

Everyone has their own Emergency Death’s-Door Cold-and-Flu-Season Survival Kit. Mine is stocked with Kleenex (the softest available), Chicken Noodle Soup (straight from the can), Chocolate Milk (no medicinal value but, hey, it makes me feel good), and my Disney movies. There’s something about dancing appliances and singing squirrels that kicks my immune system into high gear.

If my temperature is over 100.0, a Disney Movie marathon will commence… almost without fail.

I consider myself so lucky to have grown up in Disney’s Golden Age, i.e. 1989-1994. Not only did I get to see The Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, Aladdin, and The Lion King in theatres, but I was also in the target audience. They made those movies for me and only me… or at least that’s how it felt. I have concrete memories of experiencing these movies for the first time, memorizing the songs, and collecting the toys from McDonald’s. I can’t remember who my best friend was in second grade, but I sure do remember wishing she were Ariel.

So, in the spirit of unbridled Disney Devotion, I would like to sing the praises of each of these monumental achievements in entertainment in turn. I’m currently splicing and dicing The Little Mermaid so I can effectively piece together what it is about this movie (and all the rest) that makes me feel like I can rise from my sick-bed and face the world.
Stay Tuned!

Sick as a Dog...

Ya’ll – I have been soooo sick the past couple of days. I can’t remember the last time I was so miserable. I’m so congested and phlegmy that when I talk I sound like I’m underwater and very far away. And since my voice is rather raspy and sandpapery to begin with, I probably sound like Ursula the Sea Witch. I’m such a poor, unfortunate soul.

Friday at work was torture, a mental seesaw with saving-sick-leave on one side and getting-the-hell-out-there-and-straight-into-bed on the other. Frankly, I’m probably lucky I made it home in the afternoon. When I get the flu, one of my classic symptoms is forgetting to breathe, resulting in fainting episodes a la Marie Osmond. If only I had a hot ball-room stud like Jonathan Roberts standing behind me to catch me. I had a bad experience back in college involving a bad flu, my car, and the interstate which I am in no hurry to duplicate.

Anyway, all of this is an excuse for my lack of posting. I just haven’t felt up to it. Hopefully, in the next days, I’ll be able to think of other things besides my next dosage.

Help me, Dr. Drew...

I’m overwhelmed.

Reality T.V. overload is slowly taking its toll on me. I was already feeling bloated, what with American Idol, Project Runway, Make Me a Supermodel, Celebrity Rehab with Dr. Drew and American Gladiators. I suppose part of the blame must go to the Wendy’s Chili I had tonight for dinner. So good… so not good two hours later. When you add Big Brother 9, Survivor: Micronesia, and America’s Next Top Model (coming next week), AND new episodes of Lost and Supernatural to attend to… it is safe to say, “Ladies and Gentleman (but mostly Gentleman), my dance card is full.”

All good Catholics know that gluttony is a deadly sin, but I might need to consult a priest to find out if it also applies to T.V… if I believed in that sort of thing. Or ever talked to priests.

It’s probably a good thing I don’t have a Tivo, because if I did, I might find my addiction spiraling out of control. As it is, I’m forced to watch strategically by using all the technology at my disposal, including VHS tapes (how archaic!), the shows available online, and if I’m truly desperate, YouTube. I admit that sometimes I feel like a junkie, considering the lengths I will go to in order to catch my shows. If Dr. Drew were my therapist, and I wasn’t too busy fainting or trying to dry-hump him, I’m sure he would tell me that this “thing” I have going with my T.V. is very unhealthy, and very detrimental to my social life. And he would be totally right. But that, my friends, is why it’s called an addiction.

The problem with addiction is that it hurts the things you love. The true victims of my T.V. obsession are Netflix, the public library, and this massive mound of yarn that is collecting dust in the corner of my bedroom. Netflix might not be complaining, since they get their monthly fees no matter what, but I do feel sorry for those poor souls waiting for their copies of Ricky Martin Live: The Black and White Tour and The Beyonce Experience, both of which have been molding next to my T.V. for almost a month and a half, begging and pleading to be watched and returned to the Netflix mothership. The library, however, is probably out for blood. I’ve had this one Agatha Christie mystery for almost 6 months (don’t yell at me!), and none of their gestapo-esque intimidation tactics will move me, because I know the second I return it, all hopes of finishing it are doomed, and I actually sort of wouldn’t mind finishing it. Anyway, the fine is capped at $10, so… whatever. I do, however, feel bad about the yarn. Sometimes, I stare at all of it during commercials, running the list of projects I mean to start and the projects I should probably finish through my head. Meanwhile, the half-finished afghans, scarves, hats, and vests are strewn about like corpses, the knitting needles thrusting out of them like murder weapons.

It is so hilarious to me that I’m going through this crisis now, because everyone else has been lamenting the loss of their favorite scripted shows due to this writers’ strike. Some people have even gone so far as to pick up a new hobby, or play with their children, or (gasp!) go outside. I shudder at the thought. Meanwhile, I’m so overwhelmed that I actually had to make a chart just to keep everything straight!

Rumor has it the writers’ strike is finally reaching an end, barring some lapse in union protocol. I’m thrilled to hear it, but for entirely different reasons. While everyone else is tuning back in to watch sitcoms and procedurals, I’ll be writing new Netflix Shenanigans posts, knitting a fabulously fashion-forward cashmere sweater, and smoking a peace pipe with the public library.

Big Brother 9 Preview!

Julie Chen… twice in one year? I’m not worthy.



That’s right, ya’ll. A new season of Big Brother starts on Tuesday, February 12. I think we all expected a certain… overflow (like out of a toilet) of Reality TV thanks to the writers’ strike, but I didn’t think it would ever go this far. I mean, two seasons of Big Brother in the same calendar year? Is that safe? Can I safely absorb a second helping of this trash without suffering serious side-effects? Am I taxing my already taxed threshold of filth beyond capacity?

The truth is I love this show for the same reasons most people hate it. It’s crass, exploitative, and severely lacking in human dignity, and most of all, it begs the question: what kind of life am I living that I have the time and motivation to watch these 16 famewhores spin in their hamster wheels for the dubious honor of being crowned the most successful backstabber, flirt, liar, cheater, manipulator, or whatever is required, and the prize of half a million dollars, which is a lot of money, but sort of lousy compared to most other reality show boons nowadays?

The answer to that question, which you might not remember because of the run-on sentence that followed, so it bears repeating… what kind of life am I living that I’d watch this show? …The answer is: none of your damn business. I love the show so leave me alone.

Just yesterday, Julie was on the Morning Show to reveal the new contestants, or… fresh meat. One of my favorite pre-season rituals is quickly glancing at the new players’ photos and bios and making far-fetched, totally unfair, utterly mean-spirited assumptions about them before they even get a chance to make a first impression. I’m a judgmental bitch in real life, so why should T.V. be any different? And seriously, it isn’t mean if I’m usually right. Last year, I think I came pretty close to nailing all of them, give or take some minor personality disorders. I’m not perfect though… I cringe every time I read what I wrote about Evel. I got him soooooo wrong.

Moving on to this year’s victims:

But First: I have to say that I’m a little surprised at the online reaction to this season’s crop. The consensus seems to be that the cast is a melting pot of Fug – the guys aren’t cute and the girls are generic. Are we looking at the same pictures? I mean, none of these guys are Nick Stevpehqwpevps’vkasnvopie from last season, but then, hardly anyone is. Nick was such a rare specimen: hard body, cute face, and ambiguous sexuality, all of which he seemed eager to show off, but one can’t possibly expect a guy like him to show up for every season. So, if people would lower their expectations just a tad, they’d find this season’s roster to be more than adequate in the eye-candy department. Furthermore, we haven’t even seen them with their shirts off yet, so how can we possibly have an informed opinion? (FYI: I’ve added some eye-candy of Nick Ddjpqigsbvsmv;euovitch at the end of this post just for funsies – enjoy!)

Right now, as I stare at my computer screen, fingers poised over the keys, I’m trying to decide if I’m even going to bother writing about the girls. *ponders* Alright fine, I will.

BUT FIRST (part the second): this season’s twist. Grodner & Co. have devised a special treat for us this time around, or so they would like us to believe. All sixteen houseguests are single, but they were asked to provide a detailed description of their ideal lover on the application. Hmmmm, I wonder if any of them suspect what the twist is. Anyway, based on their requirements for love and happiness, Show has cast someone to be their partner. When the houseguests enter the house, they will be introduced to their “soulmate,” as if such a thing even exists in life much less Reality TV, and together, they will eat, sleep, compete, hold Head of Household, and maybe even get evicted. I applaud the producers of this show… I can just imagine them sitting around their conference table, congratulating each other on such a well-devised Big Brother concept. I imagine they thought that if the couples actually liked each other, they would be able to deliver on that promise of Uncensored Action of a Mature Nature on Big Brother Afterdark on Showtime, and if they happen to hate each other, at least we can watch them fight. So simple… so straightforward… so obvious. Well played.

Ok, really, on to the fresh meat… and free feel to follow along at the website.

Meet Amanda, a paralegal from Minnesota who likes to cook and go shopping. She explains that she’s been very close to her mother ever since her father died, and how super glad she is that she can be counted on for her strength in times of strife. In fact, she shares her positive attitude by sending her friends motivational text messages everyday. Friends of mine, take note: if you ever send me motivational text messages, we may not be friends anymore. That’s just a heads up.

This is Adam, a PR manager from Florida. The first thing I noticed, and therefore, must point out, is that he has a Masters in fashion design/marketing and has his own clothing label. Geez, does everyone have their own clothing label nowadays? I mean, it must be really easy if everyone is doing it… I’m wondering why those guys on Project Runway make such a big deal about it if it’s so easy. Adam wants us to know that he’s sort of a Casanova, that he likes aggressive women (whatever that means), and finally, he wants to make it perfectly clear that he is not easily intimidated. I always wonder about people who describe themselves as “not easily intimidated.” I feel like they’re the same people who get in lots of stupid fights in bars. Maybe “not easily intimidated” is the same thing as “sort of an asshole that likes to pick fights with strangers.” Either way, this guy seems to be compensating for something, if you know what I mean. At least he’s sort of cute, in an unconventional way. I’m liking the dimples. I’m not liking the huge chicklet teeth, however.

Allison resides in Florida, where she works in pharmaceutical sales. She’s an avid pottery-maker (first, I typed potter, but that didn’t sound right… ceramic artist?) and painter. She loves to travel, especially when it involves logging many, many hours of service in the orphanages of third-world countries. She brags that people seem to gravitate towards her, especially men, not that she means to brag, though; it’s only because of her awesome personality and commanding presence. Also, she has a gambling problem.

Alex owns an entertainment company in Staten Island, NY, which throws special events and parties. He’s a DJ and a catering manager for the company when he isn’t studying for his degree in business/marketing/advertising. He’s so busy he hasn’t noticed that marketing and advertising are the exact same things. He lost his father in 9/11 and that is officially the saddest thing I’ve heard all day. He likes house music, owns five turtles, and loves to dance. You guys, I think I might love him a little bit. One question: are they sure he’s straight? I’m on the fence.

Chelsia strikes me as a typical college girl. One minute she’s talking about herself like she’s Miss America (“I’m sincere, competitive, and determined.”), the next she’s pole-dancing at the neighborhood pint night, showing off her navel rings and ass tattoos… not that I have a problem with any of that. She claims that she has “everything” pierced, which… ouch, and is a self-professed “wild party girl.” My favorite thing, though, would be her list of favorite activities. Dancing, drinking, and going out are listed separately, although I’m not sure why, and rounding out the list is watching movies, which I’m sure only happens when she’s sick (read: hung over). For someone who claims to be having so much fun all the time, she sounds remarkably dull to me.

At first, Jacob seems like the kind of guy I wouldn’t like. He’s a jock, an ex-marine, and a Christian, so Christian that he felt the need to get crosses tattooed on his body. Talk about nothing in common. But judging by his disclosure of a bad break-up and his yet-to-recover broken heart, plus the fact that he’s obviously well-traveled, he doesn’t strike me as the typical chauvinistic man’s man. I’m crossing my fingers that he’s one of those guys that would never be my friend, but also wouldn’t beat me up.

Jen is another party girl – why do they insist on calling themselves that? – who teaches Special Education K-12. She likes shopping and tanning – again, why is that interesting? – and is a football/cheerleading enthusiast (that means she likes to go to the games and be loud and drunk, but has absolutely no idea what’s going on). We get a paragraph describing her piercings and tattoos, and I’m starting to wonder if she just couldn’t think of anything else to say about herself.

This is James, and methinks he tries too hard. I’m wary of people who describe themselves as insane and crazy, because it’s usually an excuse they make right out of the gate to explain why they’re so incredibly unlikable. Clearly, you can’t really be crazy if you passed the medical and psychological tests to be on a reality show, so basically, you’re just annoying. He goes on to say that he was the freak in high school, mostly due to his bad family situation which made him feel like he needed to act out to get attention. Ok, seriously, if he’s self-aware enough to know all of that, why doesn’t he just act normal? I just don’t get people like this! We’re not done, though. His big claim-to-fame is his dream of riding his bicycle around the world. I’m not even going to bother with that one. James is the kind of eccentric weirdo that can go both ways – he’ll either be a Puck-from-Real-World-San-Francisco, kind of funny and entertaining when he isn’t being abusive to other people, or a Santino-from-Project-Runway, consistently oblivious of other people’s feelings, but otherwise well-intentioned.

Natalie is a bikini barista that loves Jesus. I… what… I just don’t know anymore.













Matt is difficult to read. Let’s start with a positive. He’s from Massachusetts, so he has a darling Boston accent, which I love! He loves the generic guy stuff: football, movies about druglords, and himself. He’s very proud of his body so he takes every opportunity to show it off, which… cheers. Based on his relationship history, I can’t say he has any respect for women, and there’s definitely the foul reek of deluded arrogance around him, but I’m willing to give him a chance, as long as he doesn’t hate on the gays in the house.

This is Sharon. She likes talking (really?), tanning (not again!), and drama. She actually describes herself as loud, dramatic and over-the-top, so she’s either incredibly fun or a giant bitch. I’m on board for both. This house needs a diva. She insists she likes sports, especially the Carolina Panthers, and I’m just not buying it on this girl. I know there are women out there who sincerely enjoy the sport, but this girl? I don’t think so. The important thing to note in the relationship category is she just got out of a 12-year relationship. Ya’ll – she’s only 23. Granted, she says the relationship was on and off, but I still think it’s a little sad… and not a little provincial.

Parker is a real winner, my friends. He was discharged from the Air Force because he couldn’t conform to military standards. He mentions that he’s very vocal about his emotions, so much so that he could be described as inappropriate and unpredictable. However, he also fancies himself to be authentic, you know, he’ll tell you like it is. While all that is well and good, people who talk about themselves this way are usually just authentic assholes. The weird thing is that despite his confession of not fitting into the military and his dislike of real work, he had the discipline to lose 50 pounds. There must be potential there, I suppose. At this point, though, I’m not convinced. Also, he has diabolical hair.

Sheila is the exact opposite of Kail from last season. She’s a 45-year-old single mother who also just happens to be a former Penthouse Pet of the Year. That’s… quite an accomplishment. She’s so proud of it that she freely admits that she’s writing a book about her life, and I can’t think of a book I’m less eager to read. Having just broken up with her boyfriend, she is on the prowl for a new man, and she isn’t opposed to starting something funky up in the Big Brother House.

My namesake, Ryan, is a student from Columbus, OH. He considers himself popular and well-liked, despite his tendency to be stubborn and opinionated. He enjoys being the center of attention, and thanks to his network of obviously enabling friends, he’s gotten quite used to that lifestyle. His ideal mate must be intelligent, motivated, and aware of herself. Good luck finding that in this house, my friend.



Joshuah, or Gay #1, is an Advertising Media Buyer (is it bad that I don’t quite know what that is?) from Texas. He’s been out since he was 18, but he played it very straight growing up. He played football and dated women… that is until he fooled around with his sister’s cheerleading coach, got caught, caused a scandal, ruined his sister’s cheerleading career, and shamed his family. Apparently, they haven’t forgiven him just yet. That is a really sad story… so sad, in fact, that I think he might be making it up. Anyway, he says he’s an exhibitionist (YAY!!) and a bisexual (not so YAY), and judging by all of this, I’d say he’s probably my least favorite type of gay.

Neil, or Gay #2, is a lesson in failure. He didn’t make it through college despite studying almost everything being offered, and he’s currently working in real estate. That’s a whole lot of going nowhere, that is. He tried modeling and acting, but decided he didn’t want to be around so many fake people. Apparently, he didn’t get the memo about how actors and models are fake because it’s their job to be so. He’s very close with his mother, who is currently going through a rather difficult divorce. He loves that his relationship with her is healthy so he can help her through this trying time, except for this month-long stint of reality T.V. From what I’ve gathered from his profile, his true passions are playing outdoors and watching T.V. and stuff.


So who do think the “soulmates” are? The gay pair is spelled out for us, although I can’t tell from the profiles why they would be compatible. I hope this isn’t a case of reality T.V. producers thinking they can just put two gays guys together and they’ll hook up, and I REALLY hope these guys wait at least a week before they do, because they will, because some stereotypes are true.

The rest are just too hard. I can’t do this. Except for the bikini barista and the formerly nude single mom, all the girls are exactly the same! I really hope these people are more interesting than these profiles indicate, because if not, I’m in for a real snoozefest. On the plus-side, at three nights a week, at least I’ll be getting some extra sleep. Speaking of which, I’m tired.

I didn’t forget. Nick Ifsdfohweohfg&nglgnjj!gffg? eye candy:

Li'l Sis isn't so li'l anymore...

So Li'l Sis is 21. (As of Feb. 3)

I sort of can't take it. I remember the day she was born for God's sake. And what a happy day that was. Big Bro and I were overjoyed... at least until she came home and boggarted all the parental attention. I KID!!

I'm so lucky to have a Li'l Sis that I also consider a best friend. Not only is she not embarassed to be seen with me in public, she also confides in me and seems to give a crap about what I think. Not that she needs much guidance... she's pretty awesome on her own.

GAWD, I can't believe she's TWENTY-ONE!! Time is moving way too fast for yours truly. I'm happy, though, because, like a fine wine, she's gotten better with age. I am constantly and consistently impressed with her maturity, tenacity, and grace. Let's face it, ya'll... Li'l Sis is fierce. Wait, Tyra does it better than I.



Oh, you will totally love what I made for her...

As some may recall, a monogrammed scarf was commissioned for her trip to Spain in January. Many believed I wouldn't be able to produce it in time, and well, they were right. I totally blew it. So sorry. It's a good thing she had a birthday coming up, because I was able to parlay the scarf into a birthday present.

Here it is, in all its finished glory.



The picture doesn't accurately capture how HEEEEUGE this garment is... It's five feet long and about 8 inches across, knitted in the round. In retrospect, it probably wasn't the best way to approach it (I think if it appeared on Project Runway, Nina would scoff at the construction... Well, SORRY, Nina. Maybe it doesn't look finished, but I assure you, I'm finished with it), but the upside is that it is very thick and warm, and crosses very attractively at Li'l Sis's waist.

While it was supposed to be a scarf, Li'l Sis is calling it her new scarf/shawl/wearable blanket, when really, it's probably more like a stole. Who knew I could make a stole? I did. And there's the proof.

Anyhoodle, Happy Birthday, Li'l Sis. I love you!!

Five Obsessions Meme

Thanks for tagging me, Mary...

First, I feel the need to define "obsession"… it's a tricky word after all. Sometimes it’s good, sometimes it’s bad – I have the bad habit of using it inappropriately. So, here:

1. The domination of one’s thoughts or feelings by a persistent idea, image, desire, etc.
2. the idea, image, desire, feeling, etc., itself
3. the state of being obsessed
4. the act of obsessing

This definition comes courtesy of Dictionary.com, and it doesn’t sound all that bad to me.

Try this one:

1. Compulsive preoccupation with a fixed idea or an unwanted feeling or emotion, often accompanied by symptoms of anxiety
2. A compulsive, often unreasonable idea or compulsion

That one’s from the American Heritage Dictionary, and, I dunno, I get a negative spin from it, don’t you? I think this definition applies to the medical use of the word, which leads directly to obsessive compulsion, which I gather is not so good. I’m particularly intrigued by the use of the word unwanted, because it implies that all obsessions are bad, and maybe they are if taken to an unhealthy degree. But obsession, in its benign form (which I think the first definition captures quite well), is one of my favorite things in the world.

There’s so much garbage to digest in the world. Excuse me if I sound like that dude who yammers away, often unintelligibly, at the end of every episode of 60 minutes, but I can’t help but agree with him when he says that the world is becoming more and more difficult to take in. It doesn’t matter what you’re into – sports, music, video games, underwater basketweaving – the internet age is one that never gets tired, never shuts up, and never gets old. Nothing is obsolete and nothing is obscure.

All of these ideas, images, desires, and feelings are constantly coming straight at our faces. They’re like bugs, and we’re the windshields. How do our powerful yet easily distracted brains cope with so much stimulation? My theory is: by fixation. Every so often, my mind catches something as it whirrs past, and I just have to attack it. I want to sink my claws into it and hold it and play with it, because I know in the back of my mind that if I had blinked at the wrong time, or perhaps been looking in a different direction, I might have missed it. Very little surprises me nowadays, but when something does, it feels so very once-in-a-lifetime.

Maybe our brains are yearning for a little focus. Maybe they’re just dizzy. The point is: every brain enjoys being fixated every once in a while. It makes the world stand still just long enough so that the brain can do what it was born to do… learn.

Speaking for myself, I’m a serial obsessive. When something catches my interest or sparks my imagination, I’ll spend hours learning everything I can until I get tired. I’d like to say that these periods last longer than an evening, but most of the time they don’t. But on those rare occasions when something captures me for days, weeks, months… God, I cherish them, because, to put it simply, they make the hands on the clock turn.

Here’s the meme part… 5 obsessions that I’ve had, and if and when they’ve ever caused me embarrassment.

1. Madonna
2. Reality TV
3. R. L. Stine
4. The Lord of the Rings
5. Jean Claude Van Damme

I will never ever be ashamed of my obsession with Madonna. It doesn’t even embarrass me to admit out loud to you that I’ve read not one, but two of her biographies. I own every album, and I’ve seen every movie. For the record, most of her movies suck – just because I’m obsessed doesn’t mean I’m an idiot. Evita, however, is sublime, and she’s sublime in it. Anyway, the only instance that could come close to embarrassment would be the time I get into a verbal sparring match with some asshole about Madonna and her contributions to popular culture. Believe or not, Madonna can be a polarizing topic, and in retrospect, it was probably silly that the argument got so heated. I don’t feel strongly about many things, but I will fight a bitch for disrespecting my girl.

Reality TV is another thing I for which I can’t apologize. I just love it. I don’t necessarily love all Reality TV shows, but I’m in love with so many of them that I feel obligated to claim the entire genre. The only time I get embarrassed would be those times when people look down on me. I’m lucky to have a co-worker in the office that loves most of the same shows as I, so we spend a good bit of time watercoolering in the morning. Everyone else in the office looks upon us with pity, because clearly, we have way too much time and no life AT ALL if we can devote so much thought and energy to a stupid reality show. Look, it ain’t Shakespeare, but it IS fun and entertaining. I love the idea of rooting for people who aren’t perfect, and hating rotten people without fear of retribution. Also, I’m a huge, HUGE fan of schadenfreude, and there is NEVER a shortage of that on these shows. I don’t even care about the alleged fixing that every show has been accused of, because seriously, if I cared about crap like that I wouldn’t be watching. Frankly, I’m all for producer tampering – most of the time, it’s all in the name of putting on a better show, and that works for me.

OMG, do you remember R.L. Stine?? Need a hint? Two words: Fear Street. I read every single damn one. If I’m being honest, these books are just awful. I recently reread one of them in one sitting during a visit to my local public library, and I came away with this mixed feeling: revulsion over the horrifically bad writing and a sweet, sweet nostalgia that made me a little misty. I’ve always had a healthy appreciation for art that is so bad it’s good, so it’s no wonder I was obsessed with these books in middle school. When everyone else was moving on to Stephen King and Dean Koontz, I was still hopelessly devoted to Fear Street. I did eventually move on, but I remember fondly.

My heart belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien. My obsession with all things LOTR is probably my most encompassing, most engrossing, and most unhealthy. I’ve read The Hobbit 25 times, and the fact that I know that number speaks volumes. I’ve read the entire LOTR series 10 times. I own all three movies on Widescreen, and I also own the extended editions. I have all three soundtracks. The extended soundtracks are on my wishlist, and the only reason I haven’t purchased them yet is because I’m waiting for all three to come out so I can buy the boxset. I own the LOTR edition of Trivial Pursuit (I’m unbeaten at this point). I saw each movie twice in theatres, and I stood in line at midnight for the third one. I didn’t dress up because the people who accompanied me threatened to not go if I did, otherwise I would have… totally. I’ve even written fanfic. It’s slash, of course, Sam and Frodo, and really terrible, so no chance of seeing it on this blog… the point is, I wrote it. My obsession has tempered considerably since the last movie came out, but with news of the almost definite production of The Hobbit by Peter Jackson, it will probably be refreshed, renewed, and reprehensible.

Discussing my adoration of Jean Claude Van Damme is really taking me back. I’ve been over him for quite some time, but back in the day, it was extreme, as in… extremely uncomfortable for everyone around me. I fell in love with him after seeing Kickboxer for the first time… and ya’ll, it was love at first spinning kick to the kidneys. Of course, I was in my formative years, so I never spoke of my love for him, but be assured, whenever I said my crush was Kathy Ireland, I was really thinking of JCVD. It is really too bad what happened to him… age has not been kind. But in a weird way, he was my first and I’ll never forget that.

Anyway – I don’t usually do the tagging thing, but this was a really fun meme. I highly recommend you give it a shot.

That's all folks so don't bother to

R.I.P. Heath

Erin gave me this idea when she put up one of her favorite Heath moments on her blog...

I decided to copy-cat... here's mine...

I'm a little shocked that I'm feeling so distraught about this, but I'm totally tearing up... have been all evening. I hope Heath knows how much this movie means to so many people, and how much he will be missed. We've lost a very brave and talented man. Peace.

That's all folks, so don't bother to

Netflix Shenanigans

It’s been a long time since one of these posts, and I’m afraid I got terribly behind. Luckily, most of my Netflix movies have been trash, so no big loss. However! This past weekend, a weekend in which I did almost nothing except watch movies, listen to music, pack boxes, and otherwise lounge around in my pajamas, I watched three gems.

Good Will Hunting

No, this isn’t the first time I’ve seen Good Will Hunting, but it has been awhile. I needed the refresher, though… It reminded me how great Matt Damon is. It reinforced the idea that Matt Damon is infinitely better at everything than Ben Affleck. And finally, it made me wonder why Robin Williams hasn’t been all that great in anything since. Oh, and Minnie Driver is seriously under-rated. I can’t say the movie is perfect – I have serious problems with the ending – as in, Oh, so he has one breakdown/breakthrough in therapy and now he’s fine? Yeah, right… - but there are just enough great moments that I’m left with some very moving, and very satisfying, memories. My favorite is the big speech Robin Williams hands to Matt Damon right after their first meeting. I mean, he’s basically saying, “You don’t know me. You’re not better than me or anyone else. You’re kind of a prick,” but it comes across like a tough-love sucker-punch. I kind of wanted to snap my fingers and flip my weave afterwards, but I’m not nearly as classy as Robin Williams.

5 Stars

Waitress

After seeing Juno and loving it, I thought this movie would be a fun little nugget which is kind of in the same vein. Waitress stars Keri Russell as Jenna, a down-on-her-luck, emotionally abused, doormat of a diner waitress, who just happens to be an amazing pie maker. She has dreams of competing in and winning the Annual Pie Bakeoff, but her awful husband won’t let her because it’s in another county. She’s surrounded by odd, neurotic characters, all of whom clearly love her, but are obviously just as screwed up. She has dreams of making her great escape a la Sleeping with the Enemy, but just when she thinks she’s got the guts to go through with it, she finds out she’s pregnant. Whether or not she will carry the baby is never a question, but she still has to deal with her feelings of guilt and resentment towards this baby who ruined all her plans.

This movie is just like a piece of apple pie. It’s sweet and that’s pretty much it. Though, sometimes, that’s just what I want, you know? This apple pie comes with lots of extras, too. Nathan Fillion (drools) as the strangely sexy OB/GYN, Andy Griffith as the cranky old restaurant patron with the heart of gold, and Cheryl Hines as the gum-chomping mother hen with the majority of the one liners. And Jeremy Sisto is delightfully gross as Keri’s snake of a husband.

4.5 Stars

Gorillas in the Mist

I remember seeing this way, way back in the day, and being so in love with it. I may have even read a watered down biography of Dian Fossey as a follow-up. Well, I think my tastes have changed. While Dian Fossey’s story is definitely fascinating, and Sigourney Weaver is intoxicating, this movie comes across very Made-for-TV to me now. There’s so much melodrama, it’s like watching a soap opera, and I doubt that tone would be considered appropriate today. After watching the movie, I can’t say I understood any of Dian Fossey’s motivations, and since I do know a little bit about her life, I’d say the fault has to be with the writing and editing. I mean, clearly she was a little off her rocker towards the end of her life, an understandable state considering her probable lung cancer, lack of interaction with her peers, and the systematic annihilation of her second family, the gorillas, but the movie doesn’t address that downward spiral. Instead, we get a series of scenes packed closely together, in the first of which she’s acting normal, and the last in which she’s a raving lunatic. How about a little process?

All of that aside, I’m attached to the story. She and National Geographic are credited with saving the gorillas, and deservedly so. Maybe one day, another studio will do this story justice.

3 Stars

That's all folks, so don't bother to

Amid the falling snow

It's snowing in Sparkle City, ya'll...

I've always loved snow - and not just because it often means a day off. I don't know about everyone else, but I have so many wonderful memories associated with snow. It's such a rare occurrence here in South Carolina (true snow, not just a sprinkling or the dreaded winter mix (UGGHH!)), that I can remember almost every single one.

Sadly, the year I spent in Cincinnati almost ruined snow for me. Sure, it was beautiful as it came down, but the next four days were pure hell. Nothing sucks the fun out of snow more than having to dig your poor car out of a snow bank for three hours, and only then realizing there's no way you're going to be able to get it up the hill.

Anyway, seeing snow tonight made me think of one of my favorite songs from Enya's latest album, Amarantine. Have a listen....

That's all folks so don't bother to

The Year in Music

Ya’ll – this post got Out. Of. Control. Apparently, I’m more like my father than I thought, in that I love nothing more than to hear myself talk. I’ve put most of this behind cuts to save space on your friends’ page, and/or not crash your feeds.

The Year In Music: Best of 2007

When I sat down to write this entry, Reeva’s Year in Music 2007, I was instantly overwhelmed.

A TON of music came out. It seemed like more than normal, but I might have just been paying more attention. One of the side-effects of being bored at work is that I have tons of time to scour the internets for interesting new things, and since I can’t look at “inappropriate sites,” music blogs have become my sanctuary of stimulation. There are lots of great sites, most of them specifically geared towards finding and showcasing new talent. As a music enthusiast, I learned long ago not to count on the radio. Even the stations that proclaim to be the ones playing the big hits are only playing a dismal few of them, and, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, they’re playing them over and over and over and over again. So if you ever find yourself sick to death of the stuff on your local hit station, the first thing you should do is get on the internet and search the music blogs. You’re bound to find something new and different to refresh your love of music. This isn’t big news or anything, everyone knows this stuff already, but I only figured it out this year, so I’m just saying… if you’re bored, look online.

The downside is, with all the new music and all the videos and all the blogs – it’s hard to keep up. And blogs being what they are, it’s sometimes hard to discriminate between what’s actually good, and what’s just being obsessed over by some whack-job in a basement who may or not be hardcore besties with the unknown artist they’re shilling. A lot of the stuff I find is bad – there’s a reason no one has heard it. But then there are those other times when you stumble on a gem, rub it on your shirt, and start wearing it around town, and a few weeks later, everyone is talking about it.

I spent waaay too much money on music this year, but luckily, I feel like I got something out of it. The only way I can figure to discuss the year in music without rambling on into oblivion is to put forward my Top 10 albums of the year, along with a smattering of honorable mentions. If you could see the list of music I’ve gotten to know over the course of this year, I think you would be grateful that I’ve whittled them down to just 10. It could have very easily been a list of 50, but I don’t have the strength to write 50 reviews any more than you have to read them.

#10

Kelly Clarkson / My December

There isn’t much to say about this album that hasn’t already been said – but just give me a minute and I’ll re-say every word. The album is, indeed, different from her previous work; it’s harder, and more emotionally raw. The lyrics aren’t so much about independence or victory over a doomed romance, but rather depression, desolation, and bitterness. The sounds are decidedly less American Idol and more Battle of the Hard Rock Bands. But if you ignore the politics and the labels and just listen to it, it’s a really good album; flawed… but good.

For Kelly Clarkson, it has always been and hopefully always will be about her voice. She has a powerful instrument, one that she can mold into any genre she chooses; strong enough for rock, soulful enough for R&B, and sweet enough for pop. I heard that her next album will probably be a country album, thanks to the close apprentice/master relationship she has cultivated with Reba McEntire. I, for one, will buy it the day it comes out without hearing a single note beforehand, just like I did this one. That’s how awesome I think she is.

One of the major bones the critics had to pick with My December was the alleged departure from her Pop background. If you will recall, she had a harsh, public bicker-fest with her studiohead in the months before the album’s release, and frankly, I think we’re lucky it was released at all. Among various qualms, the main sticking point was Clive Davis’s opinion that none of the songs on the album had hit potential, but Kelly argued that marketability wasn’t what she was going for. She made a very personal and risky move when she decided to compose an album that reflected the new image she wanted to convey, one that was angrier, harder, and rooted in classic rock as opposed to producer-driven pop. If you listen to her body of work from Track 1 of her first album, Thankful to the last track of My December, it’s clear that a progression has been made. It isn’t like she went from Teeny-Bopper to Gangsta Rapper overnight, but good luck explaining that to Clive Davis. As far as he was concerned, Kelly had betrayed her core audience and cost him loads of cash. In reality, Kelly was simply making the record she wanted to make, even if that meant less than impressive sales. That might seem like a big step to take so early in one’s career, indeed, but this is her third album. By today’s standards, Kelly is way past green, and moving towards retirement.

The truth of the matter is: the album has some serious weaknesses. It’s almost like Kelly spent so much time focusing on the new direction of her music that she forgot to consider whether the music was any good. I think the biggest problem with the album, in general, is the lyrical content. Kelly was going for a certain darkness and angst, but she wound up with bad high school poetry. When you add the cliché rock arrangements and a tendency for a lot of the tracks to sound the same, it is no surprise that her fans and her boss were a wee bit disappointed.

So why is this album in my little countdown at all, you ask? Because it’s Kelly Clarkson, and I could listen to that girl sing stereo instructions. Didn’t you hear me earlier? I said I’d buy her next album even if it was country. If that isn’t love, I don’t know what is.

Key Tracks: Never Again, One Minute, Sober, Irvine/Shivas

#9

Rilo Kiley / Under the Blacklight

I bought this album because I loved (LOVED) Jenny Lewis's first solo album, Rabbit Fur Coat. After listening to that for almost two weeks non-stop, I was ecstatic to discover that there was more Jenny Lewis to be had, because, as it turns out, she is the lead singer for some band called Rilo Kiley.

I missed the boat with this band and my only excuse is that I was too busy (and too poor) to notice them when they first hit the scene a few years back. But even without my patronage, Rilo Kiley has become one of the most successful indie-rock bands in the country and this album is supposedly their big break (they scored a record deal, the cover of Spin Magazine, and a feature on MTV). Since I didn’t have any prior experience with Rilo Kiley, I was prepared to be a little disappointed (I was absolutely sure it wouldn’t be as good as Rabbit Fur Coat but I was pleasantly surprised. Under the Blacklight, their fourth album, is a great blend of soft rock and alt-country, and not only did I love it, I went out and bought their other albums (also very good).

This album is a collection of vignettes, tableaus (if you will), of the seedy, shady dealings that go down in the clubs of L.A. after dark. The subject matter ranges from prostitution to vicious break-ups to statutory rape (yikes, huh?), but there’s always a sense of irony and satire. If you get too deep into the lyrics, the whole album is kind of sleazy, but it’s all in fun, and the music definitely isn’t sleazy. Jenny is a great personality with a versatile voice, capable of aloofness and blistering emotion, whatever is required. I tend to attach more to the music anyway, as opposed to the lyrics, so I didn’t realize how nasty the album was until I read a few reviews. Not that I care, though. I’m a big fan of trashy subject matter, after all.

Key Tracks: Silver Lining, The Moneymaker, Under the Blacklight, Dejalo

#8

Feist / The Reminder

Feist is yet another indie-rock fixture crossing over to the mainstream. I’m not familiar with her work before this album (I’ll fix that), but I can understand why she has a cult-following.

I learned about Feist after seeing her video for 1-2-3-4 on some website, and if you haven’t seen that video, you definitely should. It encapsulates everything that is Feist: she’s quirky, sweet, and incredibly talented. While most of the other songs on The Reminder aren’t as immediately endearing as 1-2-3-4, there’s plenty to fall in love with. Her style travels through jazz, alt-country, rock, and bubblegum pop, but everything is unified by her breathy, yet powerful vocals and her strange ability to surround you with atmosphere. Honestly, most of the lyrics make absolutely no sense to me, but I find myself not caring – I just enjoy the sounds.

Key Tracks: I Feel It All, My Moon My Man, 1-2-3-4

#7

Britney Spears / Blackout

It shouldn’t surprise you that Britney’s new album, Blackout made it on to my list. However, it might surprise you that it also made it on to Rolling Stone’s Top 50 Albums of the Year. Seeing her album on that list not only made me feel better about loving it, but it also proved a point that I’m constantly trying to make with people: crazy people can make good music if they have enough help.

This album isn’t about Britney, it’s about producers. About 10 very talented artists came together, wrote some lyrics that seemed appropriate for Britney’s image, and composed deliciously original dance/pop. All Britney did was show up to record some vocals, which were then mixed, mashed, mangled, and manipulated until they were barely recognizable. That might seem like a whole lot of trouble, but let me tell you, it was worth it. This album is fun, fast, sassy, and damn… I can’t help but dance.

Key Tracks: Gimme More, Piece of Me, Radar, Toy Soldier

#6

Tori Amos / American Doll Posse

Of course this album would make it on to my countdown (I frikkin’ worship Tori), but this isn’t necessarily proof of my irrational obsession with her. I think everyone can, and should, enjoy this album.

Her previous album, The Beekeeper, was greeted favorably by the critics, but her core group of fans responded with disdain and disappointment. Apparently, if she isn’t speaking in tongues, her fans don’t like it (personally, I’ll take coherence over crazy-speak anytime, which was why I absolutely adored The Beekeeper). So having just alienated her fans but pleased the world-at-large, Tori chose to put out an album that, in my opinion, is all about bridging the gap.

If eccentricity is what her fans crave, they are certainly getting their money’s worth. American Doll Posse is a concept album that traces the musings and misadventures of five distinct personalities embodied within Tori Amos. The five characters – Isabel, Clyde, Pip, Santa, and Tori (as herself) – each take the spotlight for 4-6 songs, revealing different sides of Tori’s musical, philosophical, and political agenda. The characters are finely drawn and fairly easy to recognize based on the general mood and theme of the songs and Tori has gone as far as to change costumes during her concerts to signify a change in character. If you want to know more about the five characters and what makes them tick, as well as the songs they sing, go to the album’s page on wikipedia… it lays it all out for you.

All of that I just said… doesn’t mean all that much to me. I didn’t really follow the different character stuff – I put in the CD and pressed play, just like I always do, and I was very happy to discover that the music holds up very well, whether one follows the additional context or not. And seriously, with 23 tracks, there’s bound to be something good, right? This album has some of the most melodic, radio-friendly music Tori has ever released, but with just enough crazy to be fresh, new, and… Tori.

The true standouts on this album are the ballads and comedic asides. As far as ballads go, Roosterspur Bridge and Girl Disappearing are two of my favorite Tori songs EVER and that is saying something, considering I come from the Under The Pink school of Tori-love. For comedy, little ditties like Fat Slut and Posse Bonus are great moments of lightness on an album that could have become over-long and over-serious. *Aside: I’m not sure if Fat Slut is supposed to be funny… or what, but when it came on, the sound of Tori screaming Fat Slut was so hilarious that I chortled, and I’m not a chortler. /Aside.*

This album is Tori’s 9th studio album, and it’s mind-blowing that she is still surprising me after all these years. I love that her sound keeps growing, which is different than simply changing.

Key Tracks: Big Wheel, Bouncing off Clouds, The Beauty of Speed, Almost Rosey, and all those others I mentioned.

#5

Mika / Life in Cartoon Motion

Mika’s debut album holds a special place in my heart. Besides being, like, super-fun and fabulous, Life In Cartoon Motion also marked the beginning of a musical journey that I’m currently still traveling. When Life in Cartoon Motion came out in April, all I knew about Mika was that he was a rail-thin, curiously ethnic, Freddie Mercury-voiced, U.K. pop star that had just hit it big in almost every country in the world thanks to a sugary sweet, altogether addictive hit single, Grace Kelly, and he that he was finally about to hit big in the U.S. Well, I can’t say he hit as big in the U.S. as he would have liked, but he definitely hit big enough for me to buy his album.

Whenever I discover a new artist, I always make it a point to search the web for whatever info there might be on them because I think context and background really add to the experience of their music. While learning about Mika, I was stumbling across loads of websites dedicated to the pop scene in the U.K., which is very healthy and prolific. Thanks to various articles and blogs about Mika’s rise to fame, I not only discovered him, but the entire musical world from whence he came, and I decided I was totally in love.

The British Pop Scene is remarkably different from that of the U.S., even though most people seem to think all pop music is pop music. Not the case, I say! Just for starters, the American pop music scene has two very profound and powerful musical traditions constantly pounding on its walls – HipHop and Country. HipHop can trace its roots to Rhythm & Blues, Jazz, and Soul, all of which are basically sub-genres of Rock, which is fundamentally an American invention. Most of what we hear in mainstream music today is thanks to the deep and unmistakable sounds contributed by African Americans in the early stages of Rock and Roll. Meanwhile, Country is Rock mixed with the European American traditions of Bluegrass and Celtic Reeling. The majority of American pop artists today basically fall into one of those two categories when stripped to the essentials. And finally, we must give thanks to Ricky Martin for introducing America to the sounds of Latin America (honestly, his music is a very toned-down, Americanized version of Latin Pop, but he gets the lion’s share of the credit for the Latin Explosion, probably because he’s such a fine-looking piece of man).If you follow American music closely, all the different genres are constantly being shared and referenced, sometimes so much so that the music sounds schizo, but the point is… American music is some of the most diverse in the world, and you can totally hear it. Of course, I’ve over-simplified dramatically, but that doesn’t change the fact that America is damn lucky to have an almost never-ending supply of inspiration to keep the music going.

The U.K. isn’t as lucky as the U.S., but that doesn’t mean they aren’t innovative. Ever since the Beatles landed on American soil, the two countries have enjoyed an open and exploratory relationship, one that encourages the exchanging of musical ideas, and the opportunity for an artist to be famous on two continents. They gave us Punk, but we gave them Disco. They gave us the Beatles, but we gave them Nirvana. We can argue whether those are both fair tradeoff’s, but let’s not and say we did. Anyway, for the past 40 years or so, the U.S. and the U.K. have been influencing each other, adding depth to the pop music on both sides of the Atlantic. Many artists enjoy acclaim and prestige in both countries, regardless of their place of birth - Madonna, Annie Lennox, Radiohead, and Elton John are just a few examples – but a true crossover has become a rare, much coveted accomplishment. Instead, one will usually see a corresponding American act for every major craze sweeping across the U.K., and vice versa. Pop is all about relativity – the right place, right time factor – and it is amazing that two cultures could come up with so much great music, all from the same pool of influences.

If I ever had to argue everything I’ve just said in a court of law, Mika would be Exhibits A-Z. Life in Cartoon Motion is almost a buffet for pop fans. It seems like every genre and sub-genre of pop is covered, from the raucous dance-floor anthem (Love Today), to the syrupy ballad (Any Other World); to high camp (Lollipop)and low silliness (Big Girl), to the sublimely ridiculous (Grace Kelly) - they're all there, with a little bit of cabaret thrown in just for kicks. Every song can be traced to pop trends from both sides of the pond, but he does it without sounding out-dated or overly imitative. All of this together explains why he has found success all over the world – everyone will like something on this album.

The really good news is that the U.K. is always churning out excellent pop singers like Mika, we just don’t hear about them until many months later, and even if we do hear about them, they have to be super-awesome just to make a dent in our Top 40. But thanks to my exposure to Mika, I have since discovered acts like Roisin Murphy, Siobhan Donaghy, Sophie Ellis-Bextor, Sia, I mean, the list goes on an on. If you aren’t following the U.K. pop scene, you’re missing some incredible music. I’ve only just started to get into it, but I feel like I haven’t even scratched the surface.

Key Tracks: All those songs I listed a paragraph ago...

#4

Bjork / Volta

I feel like a lot of people I know run away screaming whenever I mention Bjork. Why does she frighten them so? Granted, she's a bit wacky, Ok... at times she seems certifiable. But really, she’s like a really big dog that barks (crazily) a lot – intimidating and scary at first, but with a little time and attention, she becomes your best friend.

I’ve said a hundred times, I’m not a lyrics person. I was recently chattin’ it up with a co-worker of mine who happens to have her doctorate in literature, and she was saying that all she hears when she listens to a new CD are words and stories. She is so tuned in to the lyrical content of the music that if she had to talk about it later, she would only be able to recall song titles and words. I, on the other hand, focus on sounds. I’m more likely to recall great beats, or an interesting orchestration, or a great melody. Since my co-worker’s experience of music is about the story, she feels that the music serves the words. Since I’m fixated on the sounds, I usually tend to believe the words serve the music. One isn’t better than the other, I should say, but I’m very interested in how our backgrounds effect how we experience music.

All of this leads me to believe that one of the reasons why so many people fear Bjork is that her music is so much more about sound than story. A person like my co-worker would have nothing to attach to upon first hearing Bjork – her voice isn’t pretty (well… at least to most people, it isn’t), her lyrics can be difficult to decipher, and she is constantly experimenting with rhythm and timbre. I suppose the tribal drumming, the electronic hisses and scratches, and all the wailing and warbling she does with that voice of hers… I suppose all of that could be a turn-off.

If you’re like my co-worker, I can’t really help you, but if you’re like me – and new sounds are the wind beneath your wings – than you will love, love, LOVE, this album, and Bjork in general. My first experience with Bjork was her album, Homogenic, and I’m not exaggerating when I say that it changed my life a little bit. Songs like Hunter and Bachelorette are so freakishly awesome that they manage to make it on to every single playlist I ever make, no matter what kind of list it might be. I may play them at my wedding. It’s hard to say what makes them so great, but suffice it to say that Bjork doesn’t just create an atmosphere, she creates a whole universe. My life changed again when I saw the movie, Dancer in the Dark and followed that up with the purchazzie of the movie’s soundtrack, SelmaSongs, in which Bjork proves that she is a true-blue composer, capable of writing music that communicates with sound, instead of relying solely on the words.

Volta contains several of the most evocative, moving songs Bjork has ever created. And honestly, she may have succeeding in doing so despite of herself. Bjork has the reputation of being forward, experimental, innovative, but I think there’s a thin line between those things and insanely off-the-wall. Pop music has to exist in time and space; the only way it gets heard at all is if it breaks through the wall of indifference and over-stimulation in which our culture thrives. Therefore, it is imperative that the music be relevant and understandable. I think Bjork knows this, and that’s why she asked Timbaland, a producer who literally can do no wrong nowadays, to assist with three tracks. I don’t know if Timbaland’s main responsibility was to rein her in or not, but his work certainly helps the music sound current. Some critics expressed disappointment in what they perceived as Bjork’s selling-out, and some went so far as to call the new album pandering, but I completely disagree. An artist shouldn’t have any qualms about working towards a more universally digestible sound, as long as they aren’t compromising what they actually want to create, and I think Bjork has been around long enough not to fall into that black hole.

What I love most about this album is the consistently sharp songs. On previous albums, I’ve felt like the music and the words have been a little vague, like someone wandering in a desert; moving, yes… but probably in a giant circle. I’m a big of fan of songs that have beginnings, middles, and ends, and I especially love it when songs follow that route in an open and clear fashion. Unlike some of her previous work, the songs on this album are compact, concise, efficient – like a really good short story, and that, to me, is a sign of real brilliance.

My favorite song on the album, and one that I feel I need to spotlight, is The Dull Flame of Desire. The lyrics aren’t Bjork’s (rather, a translation of a poem by Fyodor Tyutchev), but here are the lyrics:

I love your eyes, my dear;
their splendid, sparkling fire;
when suddenly you raise them so
to cast a swift embracing glance,

like lightning flashing in the sky;
but there's a charm that is greater still:
when my love's eyes are lowered,
when all is fired by passion’s kiss,

and through the downcast lashes
I see the dull flame of desire.

Ooooohh, I get chills. First of all, what a great poem. To set it, Bjork enlists Antony Hegarty, lead singer of Antony and the Johnsons. Antony owns a voice that is both unconventional and ethereally beautiful, one that takes some time for my ears to get used to, but paired with Bjork’s often raspy, emotionally charged gutterings, the duet is unexpected and moving. The song starts quietly – a brass choir intones the melodic core of the entire piece, and then Bjork begins the first stanza of the poem. She takes turns singing the lines with Antony, until they are eventually singing in counterpoint. Meanwhile, the brass choir is echoing and embellishing the thematic elements of the piece, creating a thick layering that gets more and more complex, and a tribal, pulsing drum beat starts to push through everything, getting more and more frenetic and desperate as the piece progresses. After several iterations of the poem, everything comes together in a literal and figurative climax of brass, drums, and chorus, and well… you might need a cigarette afterwards.

Hear me, now – this song can stand up to anything being composed by doctoral candidates in Music Composition at any Conservatory in the World. Bjork is a frikkin’ genius.

Key Tracks: Earth Intruders, The Dull Flame of Desire, Innocence, Declare Independence

#3

Rufus Wainwright / Release the Stars

I can’t remember my life before Rufus Wainwright, and frankly, I don’t want to. When Release the Stars first came out, I wrote a short blog post about what is arguably the best song on the album, Going to a Town, and my enthusiasm for Release the Stars hasn’t waned at all.

The great thing about this album is that it revitalized my adoration for Rufus. I’ll be honest, Want One and Want Two (Rufus’s third and fourth albums) aren’t my favorites. They don’t have the same magic as his eponymous first album or Poses. The Want albums seem to be searching for something, like there’s some lack of direction. That’s not to say the albums aren’t totally brill, but I don’t connect to them like I want to. Release the Stars was a revelation for me, because upon my first listen, I was completely caught up in it, listening to it over and over, memorizing the lyrics, getting misty at my favorite parts; I LOVE it when I have that kind of response to something.

Rufus is always talking about his affinity for opera and Broadway musicals, and for the first time, you can actually hear that affinity. He hinted at it on previous albums, but this time, it’s emphatic and intentional. These aren’t so much songs as they are production numbers, and I’m tempted to say he might have had the stage in mind when he was composing them. Songs like Going to a Town, Between My Legs, Do I Disappoint You, and Release the Stars are so bombastic, so energetic, so dense – that only one word comes to mind: SHOWSTOPPER! And then, just for balance, he throws in these quiet, intimate ballads like Tiergarten and Not Ready to Love, that are so bittersweet and sad that you can’t help but surrender to them. In my mind, all of these songs are moments in some bigger production, and God…I would do anything to see it.

Key Tracks: Are you kidding? They’re all key tracks!! I will NOT choose…

#2

Amy Winehouse / Back to Black

I believe that 2007 will go down as the Year of Amy Winehouse. Every year has a small parade of breakout artists, but Amy Winehouse might just be the breakout artist of the decade.

The important thing to understand about Back to Black is that it’s a throw-back AND a throw-forward. The music is completely entrenched in the sounds and styles of 60s and 70s blues, soul, and rock (hence the beehive hairdo), and yet it fits in perfectly with everything going on in music today. Helping her is Mark Ronson, a producer/composer/arranger/DJ that has spearheaded the neo-soul movement in the UK (incidentally, he released an album of collaborations this year as well, which is really good). Amy, who has more soul than any white girl should, uses her voice and her lyrics to update and modernize the old-school sounds, and somehow does so without coming across like a tribute artist. The lyrics are the standard stuff you’d expect: heartbreak, unrequited love, infidelity, etc., but Amy peppers everything with very modern allusions to drugs, sex, and self-destruction. The girl groups of the 60s and 70s weren’t addressing those issues, and if they were, it wasn’t obvious. The best example would have to be Rehab, probably the biggest hit on the album. Keep in mind, this album was out in the U.K. before Paris, Lindsay, and Britney went through their respective dramas. Somehow, Amy wrote their theme song before they even needed it.

Basically, Amy Winehouse reinvented the sounds of yesterday. I think she’s a shoe-in for the Best New Artist Grammy, that is if she can keep her act together long enough to claim it. Based on the tabloids, it seems her life is very much imitating her art – and you know, it’s none of my business. I just want her to be alive and reasonably healthy so she can keep making records.

Key Tracks: Rehab, Back to Black, Tears Dry On Their Own, You Know I’m No Good

#1

Rihanna / Good Girl Gone Bad

I think Rihanna gets a bad rap. Everyone knows and loves Umbrella, and that makes sense because it’s one of the best pop songs ever written, in my opinion, but no one ever talks about the album. Even when the follow-up singles performed well, people still didn’t go out and buy the whole thing. To this day, Good Girl Gone Bad hasn’t sold nearly as well as her other albums. What is going on!? I think it speaks volumes about the state of the music industry, because 10 years ago, this album would have sold millions. If you only bought the Umbrella single, I’m telling you to your face that you’re missing out on the best pop album to come out in years. I'm vindicated just a tiny bit by her six Grammy nominations - at least someone somewhere noticed how awesome she is.

For some reason, Rihanna has entered the national psyche as some sort of guilty pleasure; she’s treated like a fad that won’t last. That’s a shame, seriously, because there’s nothing trendy or time-sensitive about this album. It is fantastic pop, well performed, well produced, and well everything. The reason I put it at No. 1 is because it didn’t leave my car stereo for 5 months. You hear me? I listened to it over and over for five months, and it never got old. Did it change the world? No. Is Rihanna the next Madonna? Perhaps not. But did it entertain me non-stop for almost half the year? A thousand times yes, and that’s why I’ve named it my best album of the year.

There have only been a few albums that I would put up with Good Girl Gone Bad in my pantheon of pop greatness. My criteria is simple: zero skippable tracks, I never get tired of it, and it makes me feel happy. They are, and in no particular order:

1. Destiny’s Child – Survivor
2. Kelly Clarkson – Breakaway
3. Kylie Minogue – Fever
4. Ace of Base – The Sign
5. Britney Spears – In the Zone
6. Christina Aguilera – Stripped
7-10. Madonna – Ray of Light, Music, American Life, Confessions on a Dancefloor

I proudly stick Rihanna’s Good Girl Gone Bad at No. 11. Welcome to the club, girlfriend!!

Key Tracks: They’re all great. Not a skipper in the bunch. My favs, though, are… dammit, they’re all my favorites.

I am exhausted! Honorable Mentions are behind the last cut...

Arcade Fire – Neon Bible

I’m not a huge proponent of indie-rock, but this group is fast becoming one of my favs. I’ve listened to this album at least a dozen times, but I always come away with new insights. I especially love the lush arrangements – this band is quite large, with what? 10 people, so they experiment with all sorts of different timbres. It adds a lot to their clever lyrics.

Maroon 5 – It Won’t Be Soon Before Long

I’m loyal to this otherwise mediocre band mostly because I think Adam Levine is smokin’ hot. But this album is very decent – great hooks. Basic Pop, but fun enough.

Annie Lennox – Songs of Mass Destruction

At first I was disappointed with this album. It doesn’t stand up to any of her previous work – a lot of it sounds tired and uninspired. But it’s still Annie Lennox, so it’s good stuff no matter what. The only awful thing I could say about it concerns the song, Sing. We’re lead to believe that over 20 famous singers came in to record the song, but you only hear Madonna and Joss Stone clearly. Talk about false advertising. Also, while I appreciate that the song is about encouraging repressed women all over the world, this song couldn’t be any cheesier. Apparently there’s a very thin line between inspirational and pandering.

Backstreet Boys – Unbreakable

Before you laugh, this album is really quite good. The Backstreet Boys always had the better power ballads in my opinion, and this album is nothing but. Something seems off, what with the missing 5th member, but it’s still a good album for just singing along like a crazy person in the car.

Brandi Carlile – The Story

Wow, I’m so glad I discovered this girl. She’s a mix of country and southern rock, with just a little bit of alternative thrown in. Her voice is really rough… like, it sounds like it hurts when she sings, but it has a heck of a lot of character, too. The highlight on this album is the title track, which featured heavily on Grey’s Anatomy. It’s an amazing song that moved me to tears the first time I heard it. The rest of the album is very good, just a tad bit too country for my tastes.

A Fine Frenzy – One Cell in the Sea

A Fine Frenzy is actually Alison Sudol, and this turned out to be an amazing debut album. She’s a chanteuse that sings about love, mostly, but there’s always a hint of pathos, even in her most optimistic songs. Her true strength, though, is desolation and despair, as evidenced by her hit single, Almost Lover. Either way, the songs are catchy and memorable, and her breathy mezzo-soprano is one of the prettiest I’ve heard in a while.

Alicia Keys – As I Am

I haven’t listened to this album as much as I would like - it only came out a month ago - but I’m fine adding it as an honorable mention based on one song – No One. I frikkin’ love that song.

Timbaland - Shock Value

It most certainly has been Timbaland's big year, or... years. First of all, Justin Timberlake and Nelly Furtado are both all over the radio, even though both of their albums (which Timbaland produced) are almost two years old. Then, OneRepublic, a struggling Coldplay/The Fray-eque band hired him to remix one of their songs, which ultimately skyrocketed to huge hit status. On top of everything, Timbaland released a solo album which yielded an impressive three huge singles. Well, I love the singles... the rest of the album is standard rap stuff, lots of "I'm the greatest"+"I have more money than you"+"Women like to have sex with me"+"Haters don't bug me, but I will still write ten songs about the fact that they hate me"="Love me or I'll hurt you" kind of stuff.


And just because I'm a complete masochist, the rest of the albums I enjoyed this year...