Willennium

2009, RIGHT? Holy jeez, what did you do with your year? That's nice. I'm sure that you would love to go on, but I'm not going to let you cause this is my blog and I wear the adult diaper around here. Besides, I did TONS this year and there isn't enough time for us BOTH to tell our stories. The one thing I probably didn't do is write enough, so this will all be edge-of-your-seat new information for you. For example, did you know that I spent three months in New York, bought a really pretty cardigan, and had SEVERAL lunch dates with AJ McLean from the legendary Hollywood music group the Backstreet Boys?



I bet you didn't.

Needless to say, this was a pretty crazy year full of ups and downs for all of us. Barack Obama became president which was pretty cool, I guess? I'm not sure if it's still cool, but I hope it is. Lady Gaga didn't wear pants sometimes and had crazy wigs and music videos. We also became blood sisters, but she doesn't know it yet, since we haven't OFFICIALLY met. Actually, I'm pretty sure that that is all that happened in 2009 so maybe it wasn't as crazy as we thought. Sorry.

Don't worry. MY year had way more ups and downs than our collective year, so this blog can still be kinda interesting. Maybe. For example, this year, I said a sad goodbye to a very special family friend (not a joke) and watched my dog slowly decline into being an old man (also not a joke). Those were the downs. There were also the times that I couldn't find jeans that fit me, which, we can all agree, was kind of a bummer. But the ups! There were way more ups! Like how much I loooooooooved living in Brooklyn and working in New York City. And how much I loved the place that I was working at, but can't talk about unless I want to be sued for one kajillion dollars! Or how I ran into celebrities like Snoop Dogg or that guy who might have been on Mad About You one time? I don't know, I was negative 30-years old when that show was on. There was also that thing where I figured out what I wanted to do with my life and stopped feeling like an angsty baby all the time and made a bunch of super cool friends. Like I said, ups and downs. But a heck of a lot more ups.

A lot of people do "Best of 2009" lists, which I guess I can try, too. If I didn't, you'd probably leave and go find another blog that did. I don't want that. I want you to stay with me. Forever.

Best Movie of 2009

Did I see any movies in 2009? I must have, but I don't really remember them. OH! An Education was pretty good. It did inspire me to cut some wack bangs, so down points for that. But it also had beautiful dresses and Carrie Mulligan was talented and pretty in it. New Moon was totally terrible soooooo good and ZOMG LAUTNER ABS EDWARD BRAIN FACE! I didn't see it, but I heard that Precious was a good uplifting comedy, I think. Or maybe that was The Hangover. Anyways, Mo'Nique is in it and she's the best. I'll probably save that movie until after my dog dies and I need something to make me feel better.

Best TV Show of 2009

Parks and Recreation, duh. Why is that show so good this season? Better question. How could a show with Amy Poehler, that drunk guy from Deadwood, and Aziz Ansari ever have not been good?

Best Song of 2009

Or how about Song that I sang too much in 2009? Because that would probably be Bad Romance by Lady Gaga or Empire State of Mind by whatstheirfaces.

Best Book of 2009

Fun fact: I don't know how to read or write.

Best Most Cutest Blogger in 2009

This Guy:




HAPPY NEW YEAR, EVERYBODY! YOU'RE THE BEST.

Looking Forward to... Sunshine Cleaning

So, I've decided that I'm excited for this new movie Sunshine Cleaning. For those who don't know, it's a movie about two sisters who start a crime scene clean-up business. Crime scene clean-up is a job that's fascinated me since a middle school friend (I was in middle school, too, so nothing creepy here) was reading a book on the world's weirdest jobs. One of the people they talked to was a man who loved cleaning up crime scenes so much that his marriage broke-up over it and he didn't even care (lots of creepy there). Believe me, this is a job that I'd never want to pursue (I can barely look at roadkill), but it seems, just like with Six Feet Under, a great backdrop for family drama and humor to ensue.

Here's the preview:



Other reasons I'm excited to see this movie:

1. I love Any Adams for inexplicable reasons. I saw her in Central Park once while I was visiting New York. She was there filming Enchanted and I obnoxiously bring up the encounter whenever I see anything related to the movie. I also think that she has perfect skin and hair. This isn't exactly a deep basis to love some one, but, then again, I'm a remarkably shallow person.

2. Begrudgingly, I have gotten over the fact that John Krasinski is dating Emily Blunt instead of dating me. I've even gotten to the point where, after seeing Emily Blunt in interviews, I think that she is funny, smart, and charming. I kinda want to go out for drinks with her and Mandy Moore (my other celebrity best friend). I'm pretty sure that the three of us could have a pretty good time and they'd probably be up for ordering wings or something.

3. They use a Decemberists song (The Crane Wife 3) in the preview. As much as people call The Decemberists too precious or nerdy, I continue to love them more than almost any other band. Their concert was probably one of the most fun that I've ever attended. If you aren't familiar, check them out here and be prepared to think, "wow, they ARE nerdy."

See ya at the flickers!

The Neighbors Might Think

My favorite holiday song has got to be "Baby, It's Cold Outside." I feel a little mixed about this. The song is basically a man pressuring his date to stay at his apartment against her better judgement because it's too cold to go home. He uses mystery drinks and guilt ("what's the sense of hurting my pride?") as his tactics of persuasion. As a self-professed feminist, the feeling of anticipation that this song gives me comes with a guilt of its own. I think that what I love about it IS its retro political incorrectness. If this song came out now, I'd be horrified, but imagining it in the 40's with a couple who wear fedoras and cloches and go dancing is somehow... charming. It's like watching the movie Sixteen Candles. Jake Ryan pretty much offers up his girlfriend's poon to the geek, saying that she's too drunk to know the difference between the two of them. We can only enjoy this because it's in retrospect (although that movie does make me a little squirmy). Maybe the lady-half of "Baby, It's Cold Outside" is using a couple persuasion tactics of her own, like a feigned naivete. I mean she is a smoker and drinker, so I think seducer is the natural next step. In that sense, our little snow vixen is quite empowering (yeah, I'm grasping at straws).



I've been on a holiday roll lately. I watched Elf the other day, last night was my family's holiday dinner, and tonight I'm going to my work's holiday party. I work with some awesome people, so I'm very excited and am gonna throw on a fancy dress. Wisconsin is not ignoring the winter spirit either. It's already snowed about 35 inches and, remarkably, I'm not about to stick my head in an oven. We'll see how long that lasts. Cue weather complaints in 3, 2, 1...

Magic frame, pipe wrench guy

Did the title of my last post make sense? I've stared at it for too long and can no longer tell.

Anyhoo, I'm coming out of my finals cave (it's littered with empty emergence-C packages and pieces of my brain from a self-performed lobotomy) to clue you into something amazing that you've all probably heard about months before me. Well, guess what? You're gonna hear about it again.

Ever watch the A-ha video for "Take on Me?" Ever wish they just sang exactly what was happening on screen? Wish granted.

Probably on the rag

Lately, it seems like a handful of my favorite bloggers have pulled on their feminist pants for a post or two. For example, Blythe over at Five by Five wrote a great post about a double standard for women in the comedy industry and she was totally singing my song. I won't rehash what she wrote because I don't think that I could put it any better than she did.

Next, the ladies over at Jezebel knocked out a pretty awesome article called "You Can't Figure Out 'Women,' You Can Just Try To Figure Out One At a Time" about recent trends toward sexism in dating. I'll even do a little copy and paste for you:

In this month's City Journal Kay Hymowitz writes about the backlash she received from an earlier column about how "too many single young males (SYMs) were lingering in a hormonal limbo between adolescence and adulthood, shunning marriage and children." Predictably, those dudes didn't want to hear about it. Did you know its all the fault of us women today, having "options" and changing our minds? Of course it is. It always is.

Hymowitz actually quotes me from once upon a time, when I said:

"I've gone through phases in my life where I bounce between serial monogramy, Very Serious Relationships and extremely casual sex. I've slept next to guys on the first date, had sex on the first date, allowed no more than a cheek kiss, dispensed with the date-concept all together after kissing the guy on the way to his car, fucked a couple of close friends and, more rarely, slept with a guy I didn't care if I ever saw again."

She responds, rhetorically:

"Okay, wonders the ordinary guy with only middling psychic powers [who walked into a bar and met me], which is it tonight?
In fact, young men face a bewildering multiplicity of female expectations and desire. Some women are comfortable asking, “What’s your name again?” when they look across the pillow in the morning."

Well, my response is: does it matter tonight? Should a guy treat me differently based on the multiplicity of expectations I might or might not have... or is he treating me based on the expectations that he has about me and about (maybe) what he wants? Maybe — and I know this might be terribly shocking to men — if you respectfully walk up to me and try talking to me without staring at my tits and trying to get me into bed, you'll find out without having to try that hard what kind of woman I am, and what I am looking for. And maybe what I'm looking for in a guy is based on the guy. Whoa, weird concept, I know, but maybe wanting to get into a relationship, or not, or to have sex with, or not, has to do with the person and not the penis — and maybe I'm looking for someone, regardless, that wants to be with me and not just another vagina-owner.

This thing is, all these guys that Hymowitz quotes are really, really angry (and shallow) at some girl or group of girls who hurt them.

Here’s Jeff from Middleburg, Florida: “I am not going to hitch my wagon to a woman . . . who is more into her abs, thighs, triceps, and plastic surgery. A woman who seems to have forgotten that she did graduate high school and that it’s time to act accordingly.” Jeff, meet another of my respondents, Alex: “Maybe we turn to video games not because we are trying to run away from the responsibilities of a ‘grown-up life’ but because they are a better companion than some disease-ridden bar tramp who is only after money and a free ride.” Care for one more? This is from Dean in California: “Men are finally waking up to the ever-present fact that traditional marriage, or a committed relationship, with its accompanying socially imposed requirements of being wallets with legs for women, is an empty and meaningless drudgery.”
So, you went out with a shallow girl who only wanted a husband to pay her bills? Great. I went out with, this year alone: a guy who tried dating me to get me to vote for Obama; one who asked me out so that we could "get to know one another better" and took me to a loud dance club; a guy that called me up on the day of our second date to tell me that he knew I was going to fall for him and thus he didn't want to go after all; a guy who asked me to pay for everything when he asked me out; a guy who got annoyed at me for picking up the check when I asked him out; and on and on and on. You know what I have learned from that? That men are all different. Sort of like — gasp! — women.

Oh, and let's not get started on the whole bullshit "nice guys don't get the girl" that all these guys re-hash. Well, yeah, sure, if The Girl is the head cheerleader (and she always is) — but were they ever asking out the girl who was President of Students Against Drunk Driving and the German club (i.e., dorky, awkward me)? Some of them were, sure, but I'll be damned if most of them aren't happily married to truly pleasant women who they adore. My photo albums from high school to this day are a virtual pantheon of sweet, dorky guys who asked me out or who I asked out, most of whom were actually as nice as they look and none of whom were bad boys.

I dated two legitimately bad dudes in my life — the first one, in high school, I dumped rather ungraciously on our second date for grabbing my ass, and the second one more recently who I dumped, equally ungraciously, after about a month of jealous fits. One of the supposedly nice ones tells Hymowitz:

According to a “Recovering Nice Guy” writing on Craigslist, the female preference for jerks and “assholes,” as they’re also widely known, lies behind women’s age-old lament, “What happened to all the nice guys?” His answer: “You did. You ignored the nice guy. You used him for emotional intimacy without reciprocating, in kind, with physical intimacy.”
Oh, so, the only reason you were ever nice to a girl, the only reason you ever got close to a girl, was to fuck her? Don't worry, dude, you were never a nice guy. You probably didn't get fucked more because when you were holding a girl crying she caught you feeling up her boob. By comparison, at least a bad boy doesn't lie about his intentions or caring about your feelings.

So, look, the problem is that there are no rules, and there is no one end game any more. Great. I'm glad there's not. I don't mind paying for dinner, or going to see a hockey movie on Valentine's Day, or calling first or opening my own fucking doors — and I don't mind being paid for, or getting roses or being called or having a door opened for me — and I am damn glad that I don't have to hang up my dating spurs at 31 and call myself a spinster and start knitting booties for my younger sister's eventual children. And, yes, it's more difficult because in the absence of rules and regulations, in the dearth of universal social expectations and proscribed life paths, no one knows what anyone else is really looking for in a two minute interaction. But this is solved by actually not expecting things from people you don't know, and by treating women as individuals worth more than the sexual pleasure they might or might not eventually afford you. And it doesn't help to bitch about how all women are shallow, money-hungry harpies who you're just going to game the way they've gamed you. Maybe you've been gamed because as a shallow, money- and pussy-obsessed prick who isn't interested in getting to know a person, you missed out on more than just being played.

Courtesy of Jezebel


Speaking of feminism (?), I can't stop watching this video:



I'm really not a big Beyonce fan. Really, But I just gotta say that the girl has an ass that won't quit.

Black Forest (Tra La La)

Listen up, non-Madisonian readers (that means you, Seattle)!

My friends and favorite local band Pale Young Gentlemen are kicking off a nationwide tour to promote their new album Black Forest (Tra La La). They've received a lot of really great press, both locally and nationally, and are on their way up up up.

You need something more descriptive than me just saying that they're great? Well, there's a reason that I haven't attempted to be a music critic, but I'll do my best despite any of my skills to apply adjectives now flying out the window.

Their genre has been dubbed chamber pop by someone who is a lot better at this than me. To break that down a bit more, it’s a mix of orchestral elements (like the cello), driving pop beats, and literary-inspired lyrics (think Beruit + Brahms + The Decemberists + Andrew Bird). Mixing all of these elements together makes their sophisticated work seem equally at home at a pre-war cabaret, your local hipster dance party, or your tweedy lit professors house where he sips sherry and debates Ford Maddox Ford.

If you are totally lost (how can I blame you), you can check out their myspace page and have a listen for yourself.

And another thing! Tour dates are listed on their website, but they have also started a tour blog!

Hopefully my poor music reviewing skills haven’t turned you off. I would hate to be the ruin of their whole tour (yes, I have that much influence over you).

Go see cool people play cool music and be cool.

PQK OUT.

P.S. Guess who finally figured out how to add a blog roll! Holla at your girl!