Maybe I have gotten older or just not as hip or cool as I used to be (not sure if I ever was, but go with me). I know that I can be very critical when it comes to musicians and celebrities but I tried, I really, really tried but just couldn’t do it. What am I complaining about today you ask…well it’s the Grammy Awards from last night.
I hadn’t watched them in a few years but I really wanted to give it a go this year. So I did my due diligence and looked up all the list of nominees and categories. I was pleasantly surprised that I knew most of the bands and/or people that were nominated this year (So much for not being cool anymore, eh). I was all set for the show.
Right away I felt like I was having flashbacks from the 80’s. Beyoncé doing an awesome Flashdance interpretation, Taylor Swift with her Tawny Kitaen hair tossing (insert piano instead of car), Paul and Ringo doing their best imitation of the amazing band The Beatles and Madonna donning one sparkly glove.
Speaking of Madge…Queen Latifah officiated a touching ceremony to a dozen couples while Macklemore and Lewis sang One Love. But then Madge appeared wearing Steven Tyler’s white suit and MJ’s glove. I was touched because nothing says romantic wedding ceremony like an old woman walking with a pimp cane whilst sporting a gold tooth.
There were parts of the show that I really enjoyed: the Daft Punk, Pharrell and Stevie Wonder performance, Pink’s acrobatics and Beyonce’s awkward gyration to Willie Nelson, Kris Kristofferson, Merle Haggard and Blake Shelton’s (WTF) rendition of Mama Don’t Let Your Babies. All and all though I would say that my first thought is correct, I am just not hip or cool enough for the Grammy’s.
This Christmas season has seriously snuck up on me. I didn’t start buying gifts until the week of and I have totally paid a ton in 2-day shipping. This is not my norm. Now don’t get me wrong, I am not the kind to start shopping for gifts in April but I definitely have realized Christmas is a-coming by Thanksgiving. Something about this year had me all confused.
My roommate had to remind me to start Christmas shopping because I had no presents. We didn’t even set up the tree till 3 days before Christmas. And even then it was because my roommate asked me to help him set it up. Its not that I was all bah humbug and anti-Christmas, I wasn’t. I just wasn’t really on top of it this year.
Even though I was a complete and total flake until the week before I managed to pull it together and have all gifts bought, delivered and wrapped by Christmas Eve. I call that a success. Okay, I didn’t put as much thought into the gifts as I normally do but I got say I didn’t do too bad: Elvis snuggie for Mom, moonshine for Dad and adult toys for brother. Get your mind out of the gutter not “adult” toys but like collectible toys for the shelves. Geez, you’re dirty minded!
New Years hasn’t much better. I worked that night till 9pm and by 11pm I was asleep. My roommate woke me up to say happy new year and I was out again. I am not a huge partier for New Years. I don’t spend a fortune on an extravagant night but I do like to at least be up till midnight. I am turning into an old woman! But at least I got the dog in the Christmas Spirit!
When I was younger I would start my morning with a nice Diet Pepsi and only in a plastic bottle. I would drive to work every day and sip on the syrupy brown goodness all the way into town. I wouldn’t think of drinking the normal morning beverage that good ol’ cup of joe. The thought of that bitter drink made my stomach turn.
Now 5 years later, I might officially call myself a coffee addict. My friends are surprised if I don’t have a cup in my hand, I take one everywhere. I am the girl that gets a hot coffee before roller derby and leaves it in the car (can’t dehydrate before skating) just so I can have it after when we all meet at the bar. It took me awhile to figure out which coffee was my favorite. I am a no frills kinda girl. My drink of choice is Americano with a splash of soy. No sugar, no whipped cream, or syrupy bullshit.
I really think that I got hooked because of coffee cups. I am such a huge fan of funky and fun cups and I never found the usefulness of them if I didn’t actually drink coffee. I think they sucked me in. I know this sounds ridiculous but I love the handle. Yes, I blame it on these wonderful beauties.
I am not picky when out and about and needing coffee. Well… let me make the distinction, I am not picky about coffee as long as it’s from a coffee shop. I am not talking 7-Eleven or Circle K because I will gladly pass on coffee before I drink theirs. But when it comes to a coffee shop, I am really not all that picky. I have my favorite but really any coffee shop will do. Its pretty hard to mess up an Americano and if it happens they can remake it.
I just felt that it was time to let the world know that I no longer drink that syrup goodness I have traded it for the robust, aromatic cup of joe. Coffee, I love you!
I am a total hobby-er (I think that is a made up word) I love hobbies and I transition from hobby to hobby fairly quickly. So my newest hobby this time is: photography.
I by no means want to go out and become the next Ansel Adams or Annie Leibovitz, (although damn I would totally be her because her career has been amazing but I will save that for another writing). Back to my hobby…I bought a Holga kit like 2 years ago complete with film and all. I read the directions on the back on how to load the film and then ran around and took pictures of things. I had no idea what the hell I was doing and I even sent the film out somewhere to get it developed only to get back a bunch of big black mess. Apparently, I didn’t do something right and I was immediately defeated.
I have to admit that I feel like a complete moron even now. I have been looking up how to use Holga and she literally must be the easiest camera to figure out and somehow I messed it up so bad that my pictures were unrecognizable. Now I am a little intimidated to go back and revisit her. I will and I have decided I need to chronicle this for future preservation. But because my big beautiful Holga intimidated me I bought a new one to not only use but also put together.
I know!!! I have again bitten off more than I can chew. I can’t even shoot Holga correctly but I can put together Susan (that’s her name)? I don’t know what’s wrong with me but I am devoted to my new hobby at least for the next 30 days. There are so many beautiful places where I am walking and hanging out that I really would like to capture them on these fun cameras. So yes, for the next month I am devoted and I will share!
I can no longer hold it in…I cannot stand Record Store Day, any and all of them, at any of the fine establishments. It isn’t that I don’t love to shop for vinyl, I soooo do. It’s literally one of my favorite things but there are some things I really don’t love about record store day.
- I scour the list meticulously every year and write everything down and then I promptly forget where I put the list and then just look it up on my phone in a frazzled hurry.
- Nothing is ever there. I realize that I sleep in till 9 and early bird gets the worm bullshit but damn. Its like they never had it to begin with. I don’t even see the spot that it use to occupy.
- I cannot ever find anything. The 7 inches are stuffed in this corner behind the old crate that we found this morning, the 45′s are to the left in a box onto of the old dusty record player box; some are strewn about the floor and some are just filed in with the every days. Its like someone’s basement ever time and in every store which normally I love but come on remember that whole early bird thing?
- Over paying or losing out on something. By the time I think I found everything I wanted I am so frazzled that I just want to leave the store as quickly as possible. And I undoubtly do two things every time: I find what I am looking for and I am just a complete nervous mess after spending 4 hours in this shop or the latter which is just start grabbing shit and pay double just to get out of there.
- The staff. The people behind the counters never want to help look for anything. “Everything we have should be out there” has become pretty standard for record store employees. And actually it’s a damn shame that it’s like that because I would love to talk about music with someone who really enjoys it and they actually work at a really cool place. I would love to be surrounded by music all day.
- May my expectations are too high. I picture High-Fidelity and instead I just get a mess of randomness and clutter. Maybe I just haven’t found my store, my people or my real niche for this day. I will keep coming back though waiting for my Rob, Dick and Barry to appear.
My Record Store Day 2013 finds.
Tonight I did something that I vowed I would never ever do again. I baked! And I didn’t bake just anything, oh no. I baked a Vegan Pumpkin Pie. I was so completely beside myself when the damn thing didn’t come out looking like a hunk of orange hair color that I promptly went and made another.
Okay so what’s the deal with me and baking? Let me tell you the long tale and yeah its long. Last year I decided that for my second mother’s birthday I would make her favorite cake: white cake, white frosting and I would make it vegan. So I marched confidently down to Whole Foods and got the most expensive cake mixes and frosting. I am one classy bitch and I wanted this to be pretty damn epic. SoI get home and start measuring everything and really just doing a job on this. I meant business. Cake in oven, now timefor the frosting.
The more I tried with the frosting the worst it got, the worse it got the closer to a serious mental breakdown I became. Finally I let it sit there while I checked on the most beautiful white cake ever, right?? When the timer went off and I took the cake out of the oven the entire middle collapsed in a big gooey mess. I had failed!
So I did like any respectable girl would. I went to take a shower. Now this is where the entire thing turns a little sad and pitiful on my part. I was so distraught that I begin sobbing uncontrollably to the point that my roommate comes into the bathroom to see what has shattered my heart. Yeah, it was that bad, kids. I was wailing like a 5 year old boy punched by girl.
When he finally got my wrinkled and tear stained body to come out of the shower he tried to have US fix the cake together. No, there was no way in hell I was getting anywhere need that cake. It was my cruelest enemy, it was every failure in my life combined into one object. I refused to even look at it.
Needless to say I refused to bake ANYTHING for an entire year now. But since we moved and I vowed to have experience (and my kitchen is pretty rad). I decided to give it a whirl. Well here we are kids!
Not to shabby! I don’t think I will be doing cakes any time soon but Vegan Pumpkin Pie I think I just made you my bitch!
You know that moment when you know that you meet the crew, posse and clique that you were meant to be in? Like they are actual long lost relatives that you can actually be around. They knew the inner workings of your mind the moment you spoke. They look at you from across the room and know what you need or are feeling. Shit, you could even tell a joke from across the room without saying a word and actual laugh about it. My posse, my crew is filled with boys, my boys and I am heartbroken.
They are my best friends, my brothers and my rocks. And I am in deep grieving because some of my boys have moved away. At first it wasn’t a big deal, I thought its time for them to move out of the nest and live a full and wonderful lives. Get steady girlfriends and buying homes and painting decks…you know start doing they’re thing. But lets be honest, I hang out with dudes so I am a big mamma bear and I will shank you straight up if you mess with one the wrong way. But back to the love. The longer they have been gone the bigger the hole in my heart feels it.
I try not to take it Facebook and tell them constantly how I am lying in the fetal position drooling and crying like a baby since they have been gone. I have self-control, I just obsessively look at every Twitter, Instagram, Facebook and any other damn social media out there to make sure shit is copacetic. It’s not a jealous thing or an abandonment issue it’s the want to know that my boys are good. Are they eating enough? Are they bathing (weird thought)? Are they living in their own filth? Dumb things like that I didn’t even care about or deal with when they lived here. We were friends we would drink, laugh and smoke. I could give two shits if they bathed. But now I care?
And I feel worse for the two boys left behind. They seem lost. Like everyone is walking around in a big fog and all we need is to get back together and that will make the universe grand. But that isn’t going to happen anytime soon so in the meantime you will find me wrapped in my robe gripping a bag of El Scorcho (we had a thing about salsa packets) while sobbing. At least until December 20 when they all come home. :)