Thursday, April 23, 2009

I think I might kinda love Paula Abdul.

If I happen to watch American Idol its mainly for the train wreck factor, like when that dread locked stoner kid forgot the words to Bob Dylan [I nearly threw a book through the TV] or when David Archuleta danced like a duck to a Chris Brown song [Thanks for sending me that Youtube video Karen! And hey, a year ago Chris Brown wasn't dead to the world!]. So yesterday I watched because it was disco night! DISCO. That has to be the worst idea for a theme ever, so I was hoping for a total bloodbath. But instead I got some decent performances - because no one sang a disco song like it was actually disco - and a Paula Abdul who was weirdly coherent enough to make some strangely poetic metaphors that involved women's underwear and bowling.
Wtf, American Idol, wtf.

Ah, but then I was gifted with this: Paula Abdul choreographing a dance number for non-dancing contestants! The behind the scenes package was of course just as giant product placement ad - as this entire show is - but it showcases Paula making weird facial expressions while she teaches the same dance steps my Polish dance group would do for "novelty numbers." [Those numbers were terrible btw, and one year we older kids revolted and flatly refused to do them anymore. I don't know why these contestants didn't do the same.] But the contestants execute shuffle-ball-changes and box steps and whatevs admirably, considering they are being humiliated by wearing aviator sunglasses and bell bottoms and every other 70s article of clothing just short of Afro wigs. But the real star is Paula, who giddily introduces the contestants wearing a dress that is just 1 inch south of causing her to pull a Britney. And then at the end she gets flowers and does the Miss USA wave! Hey Paula, how do you feel about gay marriage?!

Straight up, best song and dance routine ever on American Idol. Way better than when they sang Bailamos, and when I'm drunk Enrique is my song - so you know that's saying something:

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

This Week's Playlist.

1. Waking Up In Vegas - Katy Perry
2. I'm Good, I'm Gone - Lykke Li
3. Julia - The Beatles
4. September - Earth, Wind & Fire
5. Hysteric - Yeah Yeah Yeahs
6. Right Round - Flo Rida
7. He Can Only Hold Her - Amy Winehouse
8. Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow - The Shirelles
9. Beautiful Girls - Sean Kingston
10. Let Me See You - Girl Talk

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Gossip Girl: If I Were A Rich Man.

Okay, so, I am going to come clean and tell you that everything I know about the world I learned from either a musical or Wikipedia. So obviously, immediately after watching "Seder Anything" I broke out my Fiddler on the Roof soundtrack and got a hardcore craving for potato pancakes because all us Eastern Europeans, Jewish or not, love those things. [Fried potatoes with sour cream? What's not to love?!]

But since I can't make potato pancakes as well as my mother and/or any of the Polish restaurants back home - I can have some in like, a month! - I will have to settle for dissecting this entire Gossip Girl episode through Fiddler on the Roof lyrics. Because that wouldn't be lame at all.

Well, somebody has to arrange the matches/ Young people can't decide these things themselves.

Indeed it seems poor Blair can't continue her life without a college matchmaker, the latest in a long line being Cyrus who, thanks to a favor owed to him by an old friend he saved in Vietnam, offered to hook her up with an interview at NYU. Blair refused at first, crying that ''Just because I lost Yale does not mean I'm wasting my time at a non-Ivy reading Beloved six times and experimenting with lesbianism.'' Touche Ms. Waldorf, touche.
And Granddaddy Vanderbilt was terrified that Nate had actually dared to decide something for himself, choosing Columbia over the family approved Yale. Hey one of my roommates is going to Columbia next year Nate! Maybe you'll see her there! But Nate's grandfather sucked Blair into a deal to get her a better socialite standing if only she could convince Nate that Yale and Bulldog Blue were a perfect match for his skin tone. Matchmaker! Matchmaker! Find me a find, catch me a catch!

And who does Mama teach to mend and tend and fix/ Preparing me to marry whoever Papa picks? /The daughter, the daughter! Tradition!/The daughter, the daughter! Tradition!

Nate was his cousin Tripp's best man because it's what Grandfather ordered, and bride Maureen only had bridesmaids chosen from a preordained list. A list which of course, stretched to include Blair when she agreed to sway Nate to the Vanderbilt ways. And then Nate finally decided to up and grow a backbone [Where did that come from?! These characters have no consistencies whatsoever.] and berate his Grandfather for turning in his father to the authorities. Though of course, it turned out that a high society rehearsal dinner is not the best place to go against tradition, but Nate's awkward toast lead to a happy reconciliaton between him and his Grandfather when he learned everything was done in the interest of him and his mother. All together now: Awwwwwwww. Not so happy for Blair though, when everything blew up her face. That will teach you B to stay home and eat brisket with the fam like a good girl.

, l'chaim, to life,/ It takes a wedding to make us say, "Let's live another day," / Drink l'chaim, to life!

So the south of Spain is ca-ra-zay. I get that S. When I was in Barcelona I fell asleep on the beach on my stomach and woke up with the worst sunburn ever on my back right across where the main strap of my backpack went. Awesome! And The Powers That Be decided that there was something in the Mediterranean that would cause me to become knock out drop down sick and I spent about a day and half laying on my bunk bed in my hostel listening to a recurring screech from a neighboring apartment building that my friends and I could never determine if it came from a child or a cat. Like I said, crazy!
But enough about me. Let's talk about you, Serena, and how you pulled a Speidi and had a super top secret non wedding in a foreign Spanish speaking country! Wasn't that fun?!
But I also drank a lot in Barcelona S - thanks to my hostel, which sold a liter of Heineken for 3 Euros - so I can understand how you and Gabriel might have ended up doing something in drunken stupidity. Gabriel claims that you two actually aren't married, that he doubts he was sober enough to even pull in an actual priest to the church...but hey, wouldn't it be awesome if he actually wasn't sober enough to realize that he had pulled in a priest?! And when you two crazy kids discover that you actually are married, Dan The Cater Waiter can serve at the reception!

Because of our traditions we have kept our balance for many many years. /Here in Anatevka we have traditions for everything, how to sleep, how to eat, how to work, how to wear clothes.

Poor Cyrus - who is awesome btw, and should be in every episode - no one wanted to eat his bitter herbs at Seder. Everyone was too worried about who was fake married, fake dating, and faking cater-waitering to care about the delicate line up of traditions for Cyrus' Seder dinner. I think everyone would have been less crabby if Cyrus would have just let them eat and broken out the brisket sooner, or maybe the simple answer would have been to actually invite some Jewish folk. Next year Cyrus, next year. PS - where was Aaron Rose?! Has your greasy and skeezy son finally decided to stay in the RI? Because the only thing this dinner needed was one more of Serena's men.
This dinner scene was one of the best of the season - witty, quick, and it actually made me laugh out loud. The repartee between all the actors was surprisingly good, considering I had my doubts about Penn Badgley a few weeks ago. Though playing Flo Rida's Right Round in the background during this scene was an odd soundtrack choice, considering it was a Seder dinner and that song is clearly about blow jobs.

Dear Lord, you made many, many poor people./ I realize, of course, it's no shame to be poor./ But it's no great honor either!/ So, what would have been so terrible if I had a small fortune?

If anyone is the Tevye of Gossip Girl, its clearly Dan who had suffer the Upper East Side equivalent of pulling a milk cart this episode - being a Cater Waiter At A Seder! Poor guy! A high schooler with a shitty first job! You don't say?! And as Karen told me, the most uncomfortable moment for poor Dan was when it dawned on him that Serena thought it was more embarassing to be fake dating a waiter than it was to be fake married.
So to earn money to pay for Yale Poor [wordplay!] Dan served matzoh and glasses of what I can only assume is Manischiewitz like it wasn't his job, pretending to be simply helpful to Eleanor, and not actually hired help [My dad doesn't drink, except for Manischiewitz. I don't understand it, but there is always a bottle in our fridge.] Of course, as with all plans, it blew up in his face.
Dan did an admirable job maneuvering the Seder table with a wine bottle, but it would have been much more impressive if he had done this instead:

Mozel tov!

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Get Your Ass in Gear Gossip Girl and Come Back So I Have Something To Blog About Again. kthnx.

Using only song names from ONE ARTIST, cleverly answer these questions. Try not to repeat a song title. It's harder than you think.
[Also, it should be noted that I stole this survey from my little brother's Facebook page. My boredom has just sunk to heretofore unknown levels.]

Pick Your Artist: Bob Dylan, obviously.

Are you male or female: Just Like A Woman

Describe yourself: Girl From The North Country

How do you feel about yourself: Positively 4th Street

Describe where you currently live: Desolation Row

If you could go anywhere, where would you go: Talkin' New York

Your favorite form of transportation: It Takes A Lot To Laugh, It Takes A Train To Cry

Your best friend is: Mr. Tambourine Man

Your favorite color is: Tangled Up In Blue

What's the weather like: Hurricane

Favorite time of day: Meet Me In The Morning

If your life was a TV show, what would it be called: Stuck Inside Of Mobile With The Memphis Blues Again

What is life to you: Simple Twist Of Fate

What is the best advice you have to give: Most Likely You Go Your Way, And I'll Go Mine

If you could change your name, what would it be: Absolutely Sweet Marie

Your favorite food is: One More Cup of Coffee

Thought for the Day: The Times They Are A-Changin'

How I would like to die: Knockin' On Heaven's Door

My soul's present condition: Like A Rolling Stone

The faults I can bear: Don't Think Twice, It's All Right

That was way too easy with Bob. Clearly it's time for a challenge!

Pick Your Artist: It's BRITNEY, bitch!

Are you male or female: I'm Not A Girl, Not Yet A Woman.

Describe yourself: What U See [Is What U Get]

How do you feel about yourself: Oops...I Did It Again

Describe where you currently live: Don't Go Knockin' On My Door

If you could go anywhere, where would you go: Where Are You Now

Your favorite form of transportation: That's Where You Take Me

Your best friend is: Crazy

Your favorite color is: Kill The Lights

What's the weather like: Hot As Ice

Favorite time of day: Early Mornin'

If your life was a TV show, what would it be called: Piece of Me

What is life to you: Me Against The Music

What is the best advice you have to give: Don't Let Me Be The Last To Know

If you could change your name, what would it be: Lucky

Your favorite food is: Soda Pop

Thought for the Day: E-mail My Heart

How I would like to die: Heaven On Earth

My soul's present condition: Stronger

The faults I can bear: Sometimes

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Last post about a dog. I promise!

It looks like all the paparazzi have migrated to DC to photograph Bo the First Dog today and ask Michelle and Barack necessary questions like "Is he neutered?" and "Has he had an accident yet?" or the ever insightful "Where does he sleep?" Awesome, the entire world is as obsessed with this dog as I am [which probably confirms that our world is in a slow, but steady, state of decline].
But then again, what are Heidi and Spencer doing with themselves today since all the paparazzi abandoned them for the White House lawn? On second thought maybe this dog isn't as bad for the world as I thought:

I think what really needs to happen is that I need to just adopt a damn dog myself.

Sunday, April 12, 2009

Friday, April 10, 2009

This Week's Playlist.

1. Superstition - Stevie Wonder
2. 1901 - Phoenix
3. Love Sex Magic - Ciara Ft. Justin Timberlake
4. Mad World - Tears for Fears
5. Blinded By The Light - Manfred Mann
6. Spanish Harlem - Aretha Franklin
7. I Wanna Dance With Somebody - Whitney Houston
8. Come On Eileen - Dexy's Midnight Runners
9. Don't You Forget About Me -Simple Minds
10. Raspberry Beret - Prince

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

This is terrifying.

This is terrifying, but apparently Eminem and I share the same brain as he just made this video to promote Detroit during its NCAA hosting gig:

Monday, April 6, 2009

Oh Detroit, lift up your weary head! [Rebuild! Restore! Reconsider!]

To grow up in Michigan is a curious thing, if only because I have found that things that would repulse normal people make me homesick.
A broken window makes me think of the fading beauty of Michigan Central Station. A blustery day in April makes me fondly remember my freshman year of college, when it snowed on April 27th. My quiet neighborhood is nice, but sometimes I miss the Catholic church bells, Islamic calls to prayer, drone of cars on the freeway, train whistles and factory clangs and bangs that I heard daily during my formative years. I like dirt and grime and a certain ginger pop with fizz that can burn your nostrils and loud, obnoxious rock and roll.
But I also like the dulcet tones of a Motown record and the equally smooth taste of Sanders hot fudge on my ice cream. And I'm not sure if the most beautiful thing I have ever seen is a mural by Diego Riveria of an assembly line or the time I saw the northern lights and a meteor shower over Lake Huron on the same night.
"Do I contradict myself? Very well then, I contradict myself," wrote Walt Whitman in Song of Myself, and I love my home not in spite of its contradictions, but because of them. I have literally danced in the street during the Dally in the Alley, and have seen 8 Mile divide people like no street should have the power to. I have celebrated a Pistons victory with the same man who asked me for change. I have climbed up sand dunes, and fallen down on crumbling city sidewalks. I have worked in the marble halls of an art museum, and have marveled at abandoned houses and discarded shoes, vacuum cleaners and stuffed animals transformed into art. I don't have enough money to own a car, even though the car drives my city. The more Michigan collapses, the more I love it.
The more I want to shout in the face of everyone who laughs at our expense, who dismisses us as dying, irrelevant, and not worth saving. The more I want to shout "Really?! Well what would you do without us?!"
To the kids on American Idol, who spent a week singing Motown songs, do you know the debt you owe? The African-American woman, the Indian guy and the Latina teenager, would you be singing in front of 25 million Americans weekly if Barry Gordy hadn't decided to make not just good "black music" but just good music?
Move to the desert, build air-conditioned condominiums and complain that you have nothing to drink and not enough water to pump full of chlorine for your swimming pools! Leave us with our fresh water - the kind you can drink thirstily from your facet, leap into on an August afternoon and watch the sunset over.
Our factories hummed and buzzed to give you the Model T and everything that came after it and planes to win World War II - and now you're content to let the same plants lay quiet. The assembly lines churned and gave Polacks like my family a decent job when no one else would have them, and now you want to build a wall to keep other immigrants from having a similar chance. Our unions fought battles on freeway overpasses and now no one cares when they march in long tedious circles around silent factories for days and months.
We were the Arsenal of Democracy, and now our democracy wishes we didn't exist.
Detroiters have watched their city burn before their eyes both by accident and in riot, and now they have to witness it slowly dismantled building by abandoned building, windowpane by broken windowpane, house by burnt-out house and brick by crumbling brick.
Detroit began as a frontier outpost, and its that way again - that wild unforgiving place no one in their right mind would go. But in the wise words of Maria Von Trapp, let's start at the very beginning because its a very good place to start. We're back at the beginning Detroit, and we have nothing to do but make ourselves again.
And tomorrow if all that's left of Detroit is a single brick, I will still love it. I will still love it because it can be built again, just like it has been before. My home's biggest contradiction is also its biggest strength: no matter how many times it crumbles, burns, trips, stalls, freezes, self-implodes, riots, declines and disintegrates there is always something left. And damnitt, if this time all that's left is a single brick and me, I would find another brick to put on top of it and start from the beginning.
"Speramus Meliora; Resurget Cineribus" Gabriel Richard said the first time Detroit burned. We Hope For Better Things; It Shall Rise From the Ashes.
So joke if you must, because it doesn't really matter. People from Michigan know we are no joke.
Because jesusfuckingchrist, I can't believe I'm saying this - but to paraphrase Kwame Kilpatrick: You've done set us up for a comeback.

Sunday, April 5, 2009

This blog has degenerated into a Chuck Bass fan blog basically.

It looks like Gossip Girl is filming its prom episode, which is always the best episode of any teen drama [Also the best episode Grey's Anatomy ever had! Because its doctors act like teenagers!]. And as per usual, Chuck Bass does not disappoint. Note:

I know only 4 people watch the CW, but what, can they not afford a new umbrella for freakin' Chuck Bass?! [And is it safe to make Rihanna jokes again?]


I kinda feel like in this picture Chuck is going to offer Nate
a spoon full of sugar, dance with some animated penguins, have a carousel horse race and then disappear on the wind with his trusty umbrella while Dan and Jenny fly kites. Or is that just me?

Not prom, but worth gawking at:

Yesterday as I was walking to the bank I saw someone approaching who I thought was a friend, but he was wearing bright green pants so I refused to believe it was actually him. I didn't really want to talk to someone wearing green pants in public, but turns out it was him, and since he never wears green pants I talked to him anyway and gave him the benefit of the doubt and assumed it was laundry day. This is how Nate feels as well.

Mildly terrifying:

Brush your damn hair Ed Westwick. You look like a meth addict. Or Joaquin Pheonix. Nvm. That was redundant.

The big shocker in the season finale:

You know that shot in every disaster movie of random New Yorkers stopping in the middle of the street and staring up at the incoming alien spaceship/comet/asteroid/exploding sun/giant lizard? This is Chuck looking up at the approaching Dorota-saurus, who threatens to kill everyone on the UES by hurling giant pierogi at them.

Saturday, April 4, 2009

This Week's Playlist.

1. Beyond Here Lies Nothin' - Bob Dylan
2. I'm Yours - Jason Mraz
3. Caring Is Creepy - The Shins
4. Bailamos - Enrique Inglesias
5. Hollywood's Not America - Ferras
6. Gloria - Patti Smith
7. Have You Ever Been Experienced? - Jimi Hendrix
8. White Room - Cream
9. Best Days Of Your Life - Kellie Pickler
10. Bette Davis Eyes - Kim Carnes