If you follow me on any sort of social media, or like, ya know, read this blog, you know I’ve been struggling with getting into the holiday spirit. That’s a hot and cold relationship I’d prefer not to have. So to prove to you, my loyal and concerned readership (and not myself at all), that I AM TRYING, here’s the playlist I’ve disciplined myself to play from here on out – through the remainder of the holiday season. Halls WILL be decked and bells WILL be jingled, dammit!
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, *NSync
The Christmas Song, Nat King Cole
Because It’s Christmas album in entirety, Barry Manilow (shut up)
Little Drummer Boy/Peace on Earth, Bing Crosby & David Bowie
Merry Christmas Darling, The Carpenters
Last Christmas, Wham! (shut up again)
Happy XMas (War is Over), John Lennon
Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town, Bruce Springsteen
My Only Wish, Britney Spears
All I Want for Christmas is You, Mariah Carey
Well, that was embarrassing. Two weeks left for this Grinch/Scrooge Combo to get on Buddy the Elf’s level. Can it be done??
Happy first “Me, Me, Me Monday”! I hope your week is off to a wonderful start. I was recently presented with an opportunity show off my musical chops at a very desolate karaoke bar, but I inevitably declined. As a daughter of the community theatre and a past-life show choir brat, company dancer and all-star schmactor, it may surprise you that I do not partake in the act of singing by myself in front of others. But, alas.
Although there’s no greater feeling than performing in front of a packed house, “performing” for me could include anything from telling stories to kicking my face in a chorus line and I would be delighted. BUT I’d rather be thrown into a game of rugby with 250 pound men than sing “Happy Birthday” in front of one other human being. If my terrible taste in/lackluster knowledge of music aren’t compelling enough of reasons to not put others through misery that would ensue if I picked up a microphone, the sound that projects from my mouth is on par with what I would imagine swinging a bag of cats against a running washing machine sounds like. Did I pain that picture accurately enough?
Because I love beating dead horse, here are my top contenders for karaoke songs that you will never have the pleasure of hearing me utterly berate in public. You are welcome.
“Just Like Jesse James” by Cher
“Oh Sherrie” by Steve Perry
“Not for the Life of Me” from Thoroughly Modern Millie [soundtrack]
It’s been a minute, I know. As they say, time flies when you work consistent 12 hour days, attempt to regularly work out, read, write, lay out, are enrolled in a challenging class and try very hard and usually fail at maintaining some degree of a social life. Oh, they don’t say that? Good. Because if you aren’t Kelly Ripa or super-human, I’m pretty sure it’s impossible to do all of the above, get 7-8 hours of sleep every night and not solely exist on caffeine/crack.
As you can see, my life’s been a ball full of rainbows and butterflies lately. Here’s the top 5 reasons why I never want to get out of bed ever again:
5) New York is hotter than hell in the summer time and it smells like piss everywhere.
4) I’ve been reading more: novels, the news, my twitter feed. Everything is so sad and it makes me angry and miserable to think about it all the time. Rainbows and butterflies forever.
3) I’ve gone vegetarian, against my own will. My sidebar announces my love for bacon and today at Subway I ordered a veggie patty for the second time in two weeks. Can I blame my terrible attitude toward life on a meat deficiency?
2) I recently enrolled in a sketch comedy class in which I hoped to immediately kick ass and shortly thereafter get swept up into the world of Hollywood dubbed as “Judd’s new ‘it’ girl.” Basically, that’s still happening; it’s just taking a little longer than I anticipated. A few excerpts by my girl Amy from the Del Close press conference on Friday are helping me power through: “If you’re uncomfortable it means you’re growing,” “People can be too hard on themselves. They have a bad show or a bad class and get discouraged. It takes a while,” and my personal favorite, “Whatever you do, commit.”
1) I downloaded the new Miley Cyrus song and I like it. Beyond that, I watched her Good Morning America interview and defended her as being “cool” in a conversation with co-workers (????). I’ve obviously lost my mind, but part of me just wants to do some molly, twerk it out and get turnt up. Is that so bad? As Miley would surely tell me, “forget the haters, cause somebody loves ya.”
I hope everyone else is having a better Saturday night than me. Just kidding I hope it sucks.
I remember the first time I watched the movie Elf: I was at my friend Laura’s house and complained throughout the entire length of the movie about how stupid it was and how much I hated my friend for making me watch it (she made me do a lot of things, actually–we no longer speak). Later that night, immediately upon arriving home I logged onto my MySpace account and sneakily added the word “Elf” into the middle of my “Favorite Movies” section. I didn’t do it to be a sly little brat (I was and am a sly little brat, though), but it was one of those things in life that I just hated to admit that I loved. This day and age, I proudly flaunt Elf as one of my favorite movies, but there are plenty of other things I am still quite embarrassed about liking.
I hate myself for loving you, …
Glee. Raised as a daughter of the community theatre, I know bad acting. When I watch Glee and think that I could do a better job convincing an audience how deeply distressed I am that my baby daddy just left me for our high school teacher/the adopted mother of our child, we have a serious problem. Some of the dialogue is witty, but the show’s story lines are confusing, incomplete and usually just end up being tossed aside. But every time that damn “Loser like Me” song comes on at work, I can’t help but sing along. Damn you, Ryan Murphy.
Will Ferrell’s comedy. His dead-on, admittedly-hilarious impersonations aside, Will has made a name for himself in recent years by doing stupid comedy (Think: Austin Powers, Talladega Nights, Bewitched). I missed the part where running around acting like a jackass constitutes as comedy, or even acting, but Will has made a lot of money doing it. However, when I watch him in these shenanigans, I can’t not be entertained. Hearing that they are creating a sequel to Anchorman has probably been the highlight of my year so far. Embarrassed that I enjoy Will, maybe. But ashamed to say the I love Anchorman as much as the next guy, never.
The fact that I know every word to D4L’s song “Laffy Taffy.” Everyone has that one completely random and nonsensical rap song that they know each and every word to for no apparent reason, right? For many people, it’s The Prince of Bel-Air theme song. To other’s it’s a 1990’s classic such as “U Can’t Touch This” or “Ice Ice Baby.” For me, it just so happens to that chart-topping D4L’ song from early 2006? Whatshappeninwhatsupwhatsupletsgoletsgoletsgoletsgooo
Watching people eat. This is a weird one, I know, but for some reason I get uneasy if I’m eating with someone and there is something obstructing my view of their food. Be it a drink special menu, a large bag, an animal–I just like having a clear view of what my friends and family are eating! Is that really so strange?! (It is, I know. I’m sorry.)
The smell of Axe body spray. I could easily be one of those girls in the commercials. I’m well aware that normal humans smell the familiar, potent scent of Axe body spray and immediately run the other way, as Axe body-spray-wearing boys are tools who think they are too macho to invest in some real cologne and/or deodorant. But any and every time I smell that sexual, manly fragrance–I tell you it’s like a moth to a flame. A child to an ice-cream truck. A college student to a St. Patty’s day bar crawl. All I know is I soon hope to outgrow this fixation with the scent, as well as the fratty, douchelord personalities that accompany it.
I hope I’m not the only one that has these random, quirky fallacies. Anyone else care to own up to anything you hate to say you love?
Hey guys! It’s the first ever Sexual Sunday post! Are you as excited as I am?! I decided that there is nothing sexier this past weekend than two of my favorite divas tearing up the news headlines–both in very big, yet very different ways.
First off, Beyonce and Jay-Z had their baby! Welcome to the world Blue Ivy Carter! According to my reliable sources of Perez Hilton and the Huffington Post, her wing of New York’s own Lenox Hospital was basically on lockdown throughout the time she was in labor. All phones and cameras were reportedly confiscated and each security camera was taped off. That little baby is going to be guarded like a hawk until B is ready to show the little princess to the media. And if B is anything like Tina (which, I mean duh…), she’ll most likely donning some House of Dereon in her grand reveal.
Secondly, TV Guide announced that my girl Kathy Griffin will be hosting a weekly talk show for Bravo! As the article states, she has done 13 stand up specials for the network as well as six successful seasons of My Life on the D-List which ended in the summer of 2010. I’m super excited to see Kathy getting back on TV, as 2011 was a long, sad, Kathy-less year in my book. And as if I get any input in the matter, I think NYC is a great place to tape a talk show ;) Your L.A. home has been remodeled for almost two years now Kath, time to buy some NY real estate!