Giving in to sisteer pressure

Caroline, my older sister, sent me a simple one-line email a while back *encouraging* me to update my blog. After reading her message, I promptly opened a new window, checked out the latest in celebrity gossip, and decided what snack I would next make. A week or so later, I am here, heeding her request.

 But here's the inevitable conundrum: how does one "update" when there is little to which one has been "up to"? This is not to say the rest of the world has not been turning, and I send my insignificant albeit sincere condolences to the fans and loved ones of Farrah Fawcett, Michael Jackson, and Billy Mays.

 The biggest change at home has been the departure of Lydianne, my now francaise souer. Triste. Additionally, as you (my one reader, Caroline) might already know, I am supposed to be taking 2 classes this summer at BU in order to receive the ever-elusive college diploma I have dreamed about these past few months. Unfortunately, one of these classes (Acting: Comedy) might be cancelled because its roster currently consists of two students, me and a boy (or so I've assumed) named Youseff. One more student and we're good to go. However, if no one new signs up, the class shall self destruct. I will remain one credit short and still not know anyone named Youseff. I'm trying to find the "comedy" in that scenario. But I'll keep my fingers crossed.

 Also, Mo is engaged!!! Crazy, yes? Crazier still is that it is not to me. But yes yes my darling Mo is going to be married and even more importantly, I am going to be a bridesmaid! One of my biggest honors to date, and I can't wait to cry and make an innappropriate toast. Just kidding. Or am I? We'll just have to wait till April to find out. Also, dear sisters, as the first bridesmaid I promise to put my gown in the basement dress-up box when the ceremony is over. I'm a sucker for family traditions.

 Finally, as this post is pretty obviously directed to one person, I hope she knows I love her and can't wait to see her next weekend.

...when he's 64 (months)

This is a video of one of the happiest, most well-tempered babies I have ever forced to play with me. His name is Max and he hails from Australia. He loves tearing pieces of paper, putting things in his mouth, and taking naps at around 2:30 in the afternoon. He is prone to drooling. 


He and his family visited our neighborhood for two weeks (during which time my sister, Lydia, babysat him and his two brothers.) Sadly, he has returned to his homeland down under but I have this video to remind me of him.

The music (not added for effect, but rather because he liked to watch the iTunes visualizer) is "Used to Be" by Beach House. Kind of appropriate because who knows how old Max will be next time we see him. (Alas, most likely old enough to say, "please don't hold me, you affection-hungry hag.")

My Guantanamo Bay Playlist

Apparently, one of the ways that interrogators at Guantanamo Bay "didn't torture"detainees was by blasting (un)popular tunes into their cells.

Ever since I heard about this on the radio (I believe Wait Wait only mentioned Celine Dion,) I wondered what my personal playlist'o'torture would be. I've kept this list tucked in my mind's back pocket for at least two years and I think it's high time I make it more official.


I don't mean to offend those who do like any of these songs. I'm not implying that fans of these songs have poor taste, all I'm saying is that these are songs that, for whatever reason, are capable of driving me crazy.

GitMo Go Crazy:

The First Cut Is The Deepest - Sheryl Crowe

Love Shack - The B-52s

Who Can It Be Now? - Men at Work

Cotton Eye Joe - Rednex

The Hustle - Van McCoy

I'll Be There For You - The Rembrandts

Manic Monday - The Bangles

Good Riddance (Time of Your Life) - Greenday

Our Lips Are Sealed - The Go-Go's (Duff Sisters if you're nasty)

Graduation Song - Vitamin C

My Heart Will Go On - Celine Dion

Lose Yourself - Eminem

Soak Up the Sun - Sheryl Crowe

Big Girls Don't Cry - Fergie

Smokin' In The Boys Room - Brownsville Station

Listen to Your Heart - Cascada

White Houses - Vanessa Carleton

This Kiss - Faith Hill

Rollin' - Limp Bizkit

Tattoo - Jordin Sparks

Things Tainted by TV and Movies

1. Topiary. Perhaps you've seen a certain commercial for the schick quattro trimstyle bikini "trimmer" specially made for women's netherlands. In this ad, scantily clad women walk by unkempt pieces of topiary and magically the shrubs morph into well-manicured lawn pieces. 

I used to associate topiary with Annie James' London home. I refer, of course, to one of the twins from the 1998 version of The Parent Trap starring the once-promising Lindsay Lohan (speaking of things tainted by Hollywood.) But such days of innocence are gone. 

Now, shaped shrubberry = pubic art. 

(Additionally, Lindsay Lohan = lukewarm mess.) 

With some tweaking, this shift could be the title of cheesey porno, say, "From Disney to Vagina." Or perhaps it could have a love letter spin like, "From: Disney. To: Vagina." 

This leap from one Lohan-associative topic to another really bushed my puttons. [groan here] Bad pun aside, it weirds me out everytime I see the ad/stare at my roommate's schick quattro trimstyle while I pee in our shared bathroom. 

2. Strawberry Milk. When my older sister and I watched the Macaulay Culkin masterpiece, Home Alone, I was scarred by a scene in which one of the robbers, Marv, gets hit on the side of his head with a shovel. In response to the blow, his face turns bright pink as his blood gathers just below his cheeks' rough flesh. Post shovel scene, every time I'd look into my nightly cup of strawberry skim dairy deliciousness, I'd see Marv's face. It took me a week (equivalent to 6 child months) to recuperate and get back on the pink stuff.

3. Good songs. Music is extremely sentimental for both creator and consumer. I often use music as a chronological tool (She's All That came out when I was in 6th grade because I was obsessed with Kiss Me), or to remind me of a certain time (5th grade = Natalie Imbrulia's Torn + ChumbaWumba's Tubthumping + Spice Girls.) However, several songs that were once oh-hot-darn-this-is-my-jarn potentials or held special connotations in my mind have been sold out to commercials, and the most dismally fated finds end up on The Hills soundtrack. Nothing like hearing a once beloved tune used to feign a deeper meaning behind Audrina's lifeless staring at Justin Bobby. (I confess. I watch the Hills.)