“Hatet och kärleken, de är lika starka. Hatet fick mej att fortsätta. När man hatas så intensivt, då lever man. Hatet blev min näring.” (Yoko Ono)

*

Med vilken rätt förbjuder man två människor att bli kära i varann? Och är det verkligen bara jag som märker hur deras kärlek får dem att växa? Ett plus ett blir ju lika med tre! Kärleken befruktar konsten. Och konsten befruktar konsten. Deras konst befruktar varann, så att bägges konst börjar knoppas, slå ut och blomma!

LP-omslagets baksida till “Two Virgins”.

Det här var 1967-68. Jag minns att jag blev så arg, för att inte säga rasande.

Julen 1968 kom en LP som, kort sagt, förändrade mitt liv. Ändå är det ingen av mina favoritskivor. Hur många gånger kan jag ha spelat LP-n? Inte fler än tio, kanske bara fem.

Men detta – om skivan är bra eller dålig – är oväsentligt. Det viktiga var det budskap som skivan förmedlade till mej 1968: så här kan också musik låta, så här kan också en LP-skiva användas.

Musiken är ett kollage av röster, ljud, korta melodier. Omslaget visar två nakna människor: en man och en kvinna. Skivtiteln var och är ”Unfinished Music No 1: Two Virgins”.

LP-omslagets framsida.

De två nakna oskulderna ledsagade mej – också jag kände mej naken och oskyldig, rosigt nyfödd – in i en okänd, ny värld, där musik var oändligt mycket mer än trallvänliga poplåtar på två, max tre minuter.

I den här okända världen var musiken = kultur – släkt med böcker (poesi och prosa), tavlor, film osv. Musik var inte konsumtion utan kommunikation: en förmedlare av tankar, känslor, erfarenheter; en spegel av livet; ett samtal mellan två medmänniskor (konstnären och lyssnaren).

John Lennon och Yoko Ono – för detta handlar förstås om John och Yoko – fick mej att upptäcka “kulturens värld”. Jag blev överväldigad och, som sagt, rasande.

1968 började jag också samla på pressklipp om, för att citera Bonniers rocklexikon, “en av de mest utskällda personerna i rockens historia”. Klippen är otäck läsning. Med några citat skulle jag kunna få en rad namn ur den svenska rockkritikerkåren att framstå som kvinnohatare, rasister, kulturreaktionära och dumma i största allmänhet. Ingen nämnd, knappast någon glömd.

Psykologiskt går det väl att förklara. (Yoko Ono var ju “äktenskapsförbryterskan” som “splittrade” The Beatles världens bästa popband och ett lyckligt kollektiv som blivit symbolen för 60-talets dröm om ett annat sätt att leva och en ny bättre värld; “All You Need Is Love”, du vet, som Beatles sjöng.) Men mitt hjärta har aldrig kunnat förlåta de förenade rockskribenternas häxprocess mot kvinnan som inspirerade John Lennon att komponera sin bästa låt någonsin, nämligen “Imagine”.

Onoboxen.

Ursäkta, nu lovar jag att försöka tygla ilskan. Men allt detta poppar upp i mitt huvud igen när jag återhör de album som John Lennon och Yoko Ono gjorde tillsammans och, inte minst, Yokos soloalbum, som alla nu blir remastrade och återutgivna på CD (samtliga Ryko/MNW ILR).

30 år senare är det ännu svårare att förstå hur Yokos instrumentala sång kunde avfärdas som inget annat än “ylningar”. Hon skriker, ja. Rösten är inte vacker, nej. Men att ingen hörde desperationen och gråten – all hennes förtvivlan – när mamma Yoko i ”Don’t Worry, Kyoko” på albumen ”Live Peace In Toronto” (1969) och ”Sometime In New York City” (1972) ropar, gallskriker och kvider efter den “kidnappade” dottern.

I sina första inspelningar försökte Yoko använda rösten i stil med en musiker som spelar avantgardejazz på saxofon.

Och hör! Yoko Ono låter som en musikalisk mamma till den musik som skulle födas på 70-talet – alla tjejerna som började spela punk (som Patti Smith i USA, Slits och X-Ray Spex med Poly Styrene i England, Pink Champagne och Tant Strul i Sverige). Många av 90-talets amerikanska/kanadensiska/engelska rocksångerskor – från Courtney Love (gruppen Hole) till Alanis Morissette och där emellan Skin (Skunk Anansie) – är sladdungar till Yoko.

Onoboxens ena sida.

Också tidigare hade Yoko Ono arbetat med musik. Hon studerade klassisk musik och uppträdde som s k “performance”-artist (musik, teater, konst). Men när Yoko mötte John, mötte hon också rock- och popmusiken. Hon tog till sej rockens och popens mer direkta och fasta musikaliska form.

Yoko Ono både blev och blev inte en rock- och popsångerska. Den musikaliska formens utstakade gränser lyckades aldrig stänga inne och fängsla Yokos personlighet. Yoko bryter sej loss från formen så att poplåtarna rämnar och resultatet blir – ja, mer än rock och pop!

På Yoko Onos 70- och 80-talsskivor finns några av populärmusikhistoriens mest personliga och spännande rock- och poplåtar. Framför allt albumen ”Feeling The Space” (1973), som är en “kvinnoskiva”, och ”A Story”, som spelades in 1974 men blev tillgänglig först 1992 som en “extra”, sjätte CD i den stora Onoboxen (också Ryko), innehåller underbar rock och pop – av alla de sorter!

En annan sida av Onoboxen.

Det som gör Yoko Onos popmusik så spännande är just detta möte mellan bestämd form – säg lättillgänglighet, om du vill – och fritt flygande personlighet; kraschen mellan populärkultur och avantgarde.

Yokos sånger är inte brev från sångerskan till lyssnaren. Sångerna är mer personliga än så: nakna, helt blottade, intima; lika avskalade in till den nakna kroppen och hjärtat som omslaget till albumet ”Two Virgins”. De är dagsbokblad, skrivna med hjärteblodet av en av de starkaste, mest egensinniga kvinnor jag mött.

Genom grammofonskivan alltså. Ögon mot ögon, andedräkt mot andedräkt, har jag aldrig träffat henne.

(Diverse olika versioner i Svenska Dagbladet, Fönstret, Ny Tid och Kvällsposten 1992 -97)

Lady and the Lost Boys Nov 28,  The Old Fire Station, Windsor

Playing music from the Berkshire school of damp labradors, green wellies, moist Edinburgh woollens and  ‘Mummy Knows Best ’ attitudes, this band played a short but sweet set at the Firestation Arts Centre, Windsor on Sat 28t November.

The smallish crowd sat in patient lines, cross-legged on the wooden floor, humble like children in the school end-of-term concert.

Lady and the Lost Boys are a female lead five-piece band with chunky bass guitar, tantalizing percussion, emotive keyboards and a multi-talented muso who bounces between guitar, keys and even supplemental percussion, providing layers of texture as each song unfolds.

The introspective topics of the songs are based upon personal experiences and transparent memories – coming largely from a female perspective. Sipping a coffee in the breaks, petite dark haired vocalist Annabel Jones sings the Legoland, Camberwick Green, Technicolor songs from the Lady and the Lost Boys song-book.  Her delivery reminds me of ‘Alanis Morissette’ and to a lesser extent,  ‘Elizabeth Fraser’ (not so ethereal) and her voice is airy, high register and distinct enough to cut above the harmonic texture of music. Some of the songs ended with melodramatic yet creative ‘shoe-gaze’ blended sounds – others ended on a hand-clap or a jingle.

A few pared down guitar riffs are well hidden and tend to illuminate rather than detract from the amorphous sounds and add drama and insistence when required. The experience is fascinating and calming reminding me a lot of ‘Alison’s Halo’.

One of my favourites was the bass heavy (bass by Robin Pearson) song ‘That’s OK’. This is a song rippling with action, combining integrated piano tinkling and rat-a-tat percussion with honey sweet lyrical content delivered in a breathy, whisper-in-your ear style. The clappy and trilling chorus was nod-headingly joyful and the extraordinarily well-behaved and obviously well educated audience showed their appreciation with understated murmuring claps. Gently unfolding lyrics such as  “How many gold coins should I put aside before I’m out of debt in your eyes . . . “ demonstrate the band’s ambitions as poetic quality shoegazers.

This is a band for a damp autumn evening by the open-fire, or to listen to on your Ipod as you take your golden retriever for a walk down the leaf-fall winter lanes.  Thoroughly recommended.

© Neil_Mach

Link:

www.myspace.com/ladyandthelostboys

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#156 – Alanis Morissette – “Ironic” – (1995)

Jagged Little Pill was one of the best albums of the 90s. It spawned 6 massive singles and “Ironic” (the third single from the album) was probably the biggest, although “You Oughta Know” (the first single) may be the best remembered because the lyrics may or may not be about Uncle Joey from Full House (which could cause quite a disturbing image – you’ve been warned). Alanis’ lyrics are always fun and raged-filled. “Ironic” taught me never to fly on an airplane immediately after winning the lottery… wait a few days. The final single from Pill was “All I Really Want” and the lyrics (“slap me with the splintered ruler”) coupled with her crazy-unique voice really make it awesome. And yes, I can call Alanis awesome. Why? Because J.D. made it okay – here is proof.

Stuart Pettican

Grammy-winning singer and actress Alanis Morissette struggled with eating disorders in her teens and 20s. But then she discovered how good it felt to treat her body right—and this fall she ran a marathon to prove it. Here, Morissette, 35, opens up about her long, winding road to becoming healthy.

Crossing the finish line of my first major road race, the Bizz Johnson Marathon in Susanville, California, was incredibly empowering. It really drove home that my body is an instrument, not an ornament, and that food really can be delicious fuel. I was running to raise awareness for the National Eating Disorders Association (NEDA), a cause that couldn’t be closer to my heart.

As a teen, I was both anorexic and bulimic. I was a young woman in the public eye, on the receiving end of a lot of attention, and I was trying to protect myself from men who were using their power in ways I was too young to know how to handle.

Disappointment, sadness, and pain hit me hard, and I tried to numb those feelings through my relationship with food. For four to six months at a time, I would barely eat. I lived on a diet of Melba toast, carrots, and black coffee.

I began recovering at 18, when a sweet friend confronted me. A very wise and experienced therapist really helped, too. And as I started getting into women’s issues, suddenly I didn’t feel alone in these quandaries about food and my body. Still, eating issues dogged me through my 20s. I wasn’t as focused on the number on the scale, but I was a workaholic, pulling 24 hour days, so I ate breads and salty processed foods. Despite my career success, I wasn’t my healthiest me. Yet.

Next: My “aha moment”

Stuart Pettican

My “aha moment”
Then, a few years ago, I discovered a book called Eat to Live by nutrition expert Joel Fuhrman, MD. It’s become my bible, pushing me to completely reorient my thinking about what to put into my body. It’s like I’ve become a scientist. I never would’ve been able to complete a marathon without this newfound awareness.

Now I concentrate on eating high-nutrient foods like fruit, nuts, collards, kale, and spinach. I’m obsessed with them. I even put spinach in my smoothies!—and arugula, too. For lunch, say, I’ll put it in a whole-grain wrap with cucumbers, green peppers, hummus, tomatoes, and some lemon juice, cayenne, and hot sauce. I eat a lot of flaxseed oil to keep my omega-3s up, and I put cruciferous veggies like broccoli in soups—they’re so good for you. I rarely eat dairy. I’ll never forget my friend Woody Harrelson telling me I needed to get rid of the dairy in my fridge to clear up my skin. He was right. My skin looks great now.

Don’t get me wrong. I still indulge in a glass of wine or chocolate—treats are mandatory. Without deviating from the day-to-day healthy diet once in awhile, it wouldn’t be sustainable for me, and that’s what I wanted: an approach to eating to last my entire life. So it’s not about never eating pizza. It’s about replacing things. Maybe you make your own pizza with soy cheese and organic tomatoes.

And these changes are not that hard after a few weeks, because your taste buds really do change over time. I don’t want the things I used to crave. I love snacking on popcorn with balsamic vinegar, vegan butter, and all kinds of spices.

The new me
Now when I think about weight loss, it definitely conjures up bad memories. But I’m older now, and I won’t starve myself. Eating the right way has become a sort of spiritual practice for me. And sticking to a healthy diet definitely gave me the strength I needed to do the rigorous training required for a marathon—as well as the excruciating final stretch.

Even though I had a few cramps and it got really tough around mile 20, I pushed through the profound pain in my hip flexors and quadriceps and hit my time goal of 4 hours and 15 minutes. (Listening to “Survivor” by Destiny’s Child about 150 times helped a lot!)

I hope my effort shows any woman battling an eating disorder or poor body image that she’s not alone—support is out there—and inspires her to discover her inner athlete. It doesn’t matter what your fitness-skill level is. It’s all about finding the activity you enjoy most and sticking with it.

I’m really clear about what my life mission is now. There’s no more depression or lethargy, and I feel like I’ve returned to the athlete I once was. Growing up, I was a real jock, but that all drifted away once I took the artist route. It was like, “Rock ‘n’ roll chicks don’t play badminton!” Now I’m integrating all the parts of me—jock, musician, writer, poet, philosopher—and becoming stronger as a result.

I wish I had time in my life to devote fully to music.  I’m not sure how fruitful it would be for me considering I don’t play any instruments, but I feel that I was born with an innate gift for being able to decently write songs without any instrumentation to guide me.  Both producers I have worked with in the studio have for some reason been impressed by this.  Apparently it is definitely not the status quo to write in that way. 

I just get so caught up in the everyday trials, toils, tribulations, and trivialties (yea, I might have just made that one up???) that writing a song just can’t be squeezed into my day-to-day right now.  Though I want nothing more than to expand my personal catalogue, I don’t want to force anything either.  That wouldn’t be authentic or honest to myself.  That would actually be a product of quantity over quality – though I’m not sure how much quality I deliver.  I’ll probably always consider myself a novice for one reason or another. 

One of those reasons is because I feel like I write for the radio, and that is not intentional – it’s just how I write.  I’m afraid that writing ”like that” makes it difficult to establish legitimacy in the business, at least by fellow artists.  I don’t want to be seen as shallow and naive because of the way I write.  Because it is “radio ready” does not mean that every line in the song is not accented with a hint of my own experience and heart – and I think that is really important.  Still, I so envy Alanis Morissette and her beautiful prose that she sets to music.  I don’t think I could ever write like that. Doesn’t everything have to rhyme? Haha…no seriously.   

I’ll tell ya, I have this weird ability to write hooks like crazy. I mean, I’m a hook writin’ fool.  I was at home just the other day and a couple lines popped in my head and I bolted to my bedroom to grab my phone and record the little gems before I lost them forever in the abyss above my neck.  That’s when I get really excited.  Something fresh and new to work on… Only these days I rarely get farther than that little hook.  I’m just not devoted.  Part of it is my laziness and lack of time management, but part of it is becoming inspired in bits and pieces rather than being inspired to write a complete piece… I need to learn to be okay with that.  Time will come for me to be able to devote more of my heart to the process, but I’m not getting any younger.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JNsxEm6MwCQ

I was House

I was hoping

hoping

for the heart of the house : you saw me run from the house
in the snow melodramatically
oh mother who’s your sister?
oh mother who’s your friend?
the heart of the house

heartofthehouse

a bad&madley: you know how us catholic girls can be, no fun with no guilt feelings, I see you next sunday, isn’t it ironic, show me the backdoor, sisterblister we fight against the brothers, it’s like rain on your wedding day BUT

who?who am I2beblue?this could be messy,you washed your hands clean,I’m young and I’m underpaid, I’m tired bit I’m working, no pressure over capuccino

Tsé… y’a des matins, tu te lèves, t’as pas le goût d’aller travailler, mais t’es de bonne foi, t’essaies de garder le sourire malgré tout. Tu te dis ”Non, aujourd’hui ce sera une belle journée”.

Je prends mon autobus: Bang! le chauffeur me ferme la porte dessus. Mon bras me fait mal depuis. Il s’est excusé, je l’ai pardonné, il  a pas fait exprès(voyez, je suis de bonne foi).

Descend de l’autobus, manque de me faire happer par un camion, le conducteur ne regardait pas devant lui, c’est le passager qui lui a dit de s’arrêter, j’avais priorité…encore là, je souris au passager, lui mimant un merci soulagé (toujours de bonne foi, y’a rien qui gâchera ma journée bon ).

J’ai un peu d’avance, j’me dis ”ah ! tiens! pourquoi pas me chercher un Gingerbread Latte au Starbucks” . Petit détour rue St-Denis, arrive au Starbucks ”Désolé nous sommes fermés suite à un incendie” que s’est écrit sur la porte.

Refait un détour jusqu’au Second Cup, on me fait un Gingerbread Latte qui ne goûte en rien le Starbucks auquel j’ai rêvé, mais bon, on fait avec.

Décide de prendre un taxi jusque sur St-Laurent/Prince-Arthur parce que le temps avance et que tous ces détours risquent de me mettre en retard. Embouteillage monstre sur St-Laurent/Ontario à cause d’un camion de Coors Light qui bloque la rue.

J’arrive au bureau. Café à la main. Tout sourire. Ma boss me regarde et me dit ”T’aurais pas perdu du poids toi ?”. Enfin, la v’là la phrase qui fait ma journée.

Autor de uma das mais executadas músicas do país no ano passado
– o sucesso “I´m Yours”, da trilha sonora da novela “A Favorita”,
o cantor e compositor norteamericano Jason Mraz traz seu som pop
para o Rio. O show acontece no dia 26 de novembro às 21h30
no Vivo Rio (Avenida Infante Dom Henrique, 85, Parque do Flamengo).
Os ingressos custam de R$ 180,00 a R$ 380,00.

LEIA MAIS NOS SITES
:: SORTIMENTOS :: http://www.sortimentos.net/?p=4600
:: GEBBEG VARIEDADES :: http://gebbeg.com.br/?p=7221

.

Ironias como regra sempre

Alanis Morissette – Head Over Feet

“Eu não tive escolha a não ser ouvir você,
Você explicou seu caso várias vezes,
Eu refleti sobre isso…

Você me trata como se eu fosse uma princesa,
Não estou acostumada a gostar disso.
Você pergunta como foi meu dia…

Refrão:
Você já me conquistou apesar de mim,
E não fique alarmado se eu cair de cabeça para baixo,
E não fique surpreso se eu te amar por tudo que você é.
Eu não poderia evitar,
É tudo culpa sua…

Seu amor é abundante e me absorveu inteira,
Você é muito mais valente do que eu te dava crédito,
Isso não é falso elogio…

Repete Refrão

Você é o portador de coisas incondicionais,
Você segurava sua respiração e a porta para mim.
Obrigada pela sua paciência…

Você é o melhor ouvinte que eu já encontrei.
Você é o meu melhor amigo,
Melhor amigo com vantagens.
O que me segurou por tanto tempo?

Eu nunca senti tão saudável assim antes,
Eu nunca quis algo racional.
Estou ciente agora,
Estou ciente agora…”

Amo essa musica muito antes de saber o que era ser gente. Alanis tem um potencial ironico que faz você pedir mais.

Por: Amanda Rodrigues

I generally feel younger than I am, but sometimes it hits me that I’ve been around for almost three decades already and I feel bad for all the things I didn’t achieve yet, even though mostly I’m not sure what things in particular they are. Maybe you can relate.

At any rate, one of the things that just made me realize that I’m not getting any younger is finding out that the wonderful Alanis Morissette album Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie was released 11 (!) years ago, in November 1998. I remember when I first got it, I was a bit suspicious about it, after having become so acquainted with the songs on Jagged Little Pill (I agree with this reviewer on how good that album was). Nevertheless, Junkie grew on me pretty quickly. My favorite songs on it are the very plugged-in ones (like So Pure and Would Not Come), and most of all I like those that also have a haunting quality to them and narrative lyrics (The Couch and I Was Hoping). The lyrics on the album are deep and Alanis doesn’t usually bother to make them rhyme, which I find rather refreshing.

The Couch and I Was Hoping belong together in my personal interpretation of the album, and I believe the first-person narrator in The Couch and the second-person character in I Was Hoping are very similar, if not the same person. For some reason, I imagine The Couch to be fictitious and I Was Hoping to be taken from Alanis Morissette’s life, but I have no other basis for this assumption than my rampant imagination.

Also in my imagination, the guy she meets up with is older than her. He’s in a troubled marriage (or claims to be) and she likes him, even though it’s also obvious that they are very different people with vastly different beliefs. So she was hoping that they’d be good for each other, maybe get together, but now she realizes it’s pretty hopeless.

The part I remember and like most of the song is this:

“It’s a cycle, really. You think I’m withdrawing and guilt tripping you, I think you’re insensitive and I don’t feel heard. And I said, ‘Do you believe we are fundamentally judgmental? Fundamentally evil?’ And you said ‘Yes.’ I said, ‘I don’t believe in revenge, in right or wrong, good or bad.’ You said: ‘Well, what about that man that I saw handcuffed in the emergency room, bleeding after beating his kid, and she threw a shoe at his head. I think what he did was wrong and I would’ve had a hard time feeling compassion for him.’ I had to watch my tone for fear of having you feel judged.”

Personally, I also believe we are fundamentally judgemental, but I don’t think we’re fundamentally evil. I don’t believe in revenge either, although I sometimes fantasize about it on the spur of the moment. Interesting in this particular song, however, is not only the subject matter, but also that their positions clash the way they do.

Well, I still love the album and the song 11 years after it was released, and so I will let this little article stand as a tribute to one of my favorite albums, and also as a tribute to my advancing age.

Even if I’m from Sweden, I have always loved Canada.

And we have had some great moments, Canada and me. I loved Monty Python’s “The Lumberjack Song”, I was glued to the television watching Wayne Gretzky play hockey and I was happy getting Alanis Morissette’s Jagged Little Pill when I signed up for a gym membership back in 1995, even if I’d never heard of her or knew that she originated from Canada.

You really have produced some great people Canada. So when I discovered that it was a Canadian that had produced our first video response ever on YouTube, I wasn’t surprised. Because you are there for me Canada. You are always there.

In case you haven’t seen it, here’s a link to The Elk Day. The video response is located right under it. Go Canada!

I blame homesickness. Homesickness is the reason why JG and I recently subscribed to having TFC to watch on TV. For those who don’t know TFC (The Filipino Channel) is basically channels so we can be able to enjoy TV programs from back home.

TFC subscribers na kami

Most Filipinos moving to another country will make sure to get TFC as one of their top priorities, third to acquiring a TV, which is second to finding a place to live in. In the Philippines, television, as well as our local pop culture is a big part of everyone’s daily life. I can’t really recall anyone I know who doesn’t watch TV. Even the ones who don’t actually own one are still updated, courtesy of the one neighbor who has a wide living room window. We have shows for every part of the day; early morning magazine shows, morning cartoons and talk shows, noontime shows, afternoon soaps, the evening news, and the primetime specials. This is why even though we may move to another continent, it is vital to take the local channels with us.

JG and I however are unlike most Filipinos, yes we watch local TV back home but we are not its greatest fans. Sometimes I like to think that we are among its biggest critics. It is mostly due to our attitudes, JG and his often intellectual taste, and my too idealistic not to mention hopeless romantic thirst for a bit of witty poetry in Philippine shows. If you knew us well, you would often hear us making fun of celebrities and programs (from their concept to the smallest scene or segment).

A friend of mine, tired of hearing me go on and on about what I don’t like about our local shows, said to me, “If you don’t like it so much, why keep watching?” That friend of mine was absolutely right, but we probably won’t admit out loud, but, I particularly, enjoy it too. Every nonsensical dialogue, every cheesy scene, every intrigue (that by the way does not affect nor benefit my life in any way), every shallow and vain personality. In some subconscious level, I eat all up like the true Pinoy that I am. And it’s simply because it is a big part of my culture and who I am. Like an annoying uncle, that although you dislike is still family. It is my own and as they say – love your own.

And so, despite being the critical Filipinos that we are, JG and I opted to put having TFC in the bottom of our priorities. Like most Filipinos, the next thing we did after finding a house to live in here in Tripoli, was to make sure we had a badass flat screen to watch with. But we made do with the free channels the satellite on our roof can get signal from.

The satellite is another factor that led us to our decision. In the Philippines owning a satellite is sort of status symbol, you have one means that you are a big shot because you can afford to have 4000 channels to choose from. When we came here in Tripoli, every roof big or small had one. Imagine my excitement when the house that we moved into came with its own dish – 4000 channels at my fingertips. But as always in my life, there is always a catch. I had 4000 channels with only about ten that caters to the English speaking only… Whenever I think about this, Alanis Morissette starts to sing Ironic in my head.

And of course there is also the internet with the streaming and downloading techniques one can use.

But mostly, we decided not to subscribe to the Filipino channels, because of the notion that we can probably live without it anyway. Again, being that we “don’t admittedly” enjoy it as much anyway. And for the first three months I, particularly, was okay with the ten channels that I have. If nothing, it broadened my perspective of the world as I found myself now more aware of international issues and current events; plus it gave me a glimpse of different kinds of TV culture.

International Perspective

However, circumstances really have a way of forcing you to do things. Typhoon Ketsana (or Ondoy in the Philippines) hit Metro Manila. And in our worry to learn about home, news from the internet and snippets from CNN and BBC weren’t enough. JG’s mom, my MIL was also set to arrive here in Tripoli, and she isn’t much of an international viewer and preferred the local stations from back home. And the clincher of it all, JG is a huge fan of Philippine Basketball.  He could no longer take waiting for the streaming to buffer, causing him to watch his favorite players shoot the ball one slow frame at a time. And since he pays for everything, it was decided that the time for TFC has come.

PBA: the tipping factor

And honestly it isn’t so bad. I now find myself getting hooked in the overly dramatic primetime soaps, and JG gets his twice a week dose of basketball. Hottest thing these days is Manny Pacquiao’s mother, Mommy Dionisia and her quest to be the next big star.

Dionisia Pacquiao is the hottest thing in Philippine TV today

It’s still the same old shows, the same old Pinoy brand of entertainment, but it definitely makes us feel closer to home.

Remember when this song came out?  And it was like, the awesomest girl power song of all time?  Even guys I know were all about the rock of “You Oughta Know”.  And it’s still a great song today…except for this:

So did Dave Coulier singled-handedly ruin “You Oughta Know”?  Discuss!  And what’s your song of the day?

because

and

“You’re just to good to be true!”

Nu pot sa iti spun decat

Today I saw a brunette girl in the elevator at Target wearing a pink t-shirt with the phrase “Blondes Have More Fun” written across her chest in fuchsia bubble letters.  It seemed like a mean joke on her played by the universe for obvious reasons, and because I’d bet money the poor thing wasn’t wearing it ironically.

Today someone told me that I reminded him of his friend, Alanis Morissette, when I was dressed like Elvis on Halloween.  This seemed like a cruel joke played on me by the universe because I look nothing my brunette wig-wearing Halloween outfit during the rest of the year, and because for a brief time during my ‘tween years I believed I was both Alanis Morissette and Elvis.

Ironically, when I Googled Alanis to double check the spelling of her name, this blonde picture of the normally brunette singer came up.  Maybe Blondes really do have more fun, even when dressed as brunettes.

You know in the song Ironic by Alanis Morissette, is any of iit ironic?

It’s like rain on your wedding day
It’s a free ride when you’ve already paid
It’s the good advice that you just didn’t take
Who would’ve thought… it figures

Mr. Play It Safe was afraid to fly
He packed his suitcase and kissed his kids goodbye
He waited his whole damn life to take that flight
And as the plane crashed down he thought
"Well isn’t this nice…"
And isn’t it ironic… don’t you think

It’s like rain on your wedding day
It’s a free ride when you’ve already paid
It’s the good advice that you just didn’t take
Who would’ve thought… it figures

Well life has a funny way of sneaking up on you
When you think everything’s okay and everything’s going right
And life has a funny way of helping you out when
You think everything’s gone wrong and everything blows up
In your face

A traffic jam when you’re already late
A no-smoking sign on your cigarette break
It’s like ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife
It’s meeting the man of my dreams
And then meeting his beautiful wife
And isn’t it ironic…don’t you think
A little too ironic…and, yeah, I really do think…

It’s like rain on your wedding day
It’s a free ride when you’ve already paid
It’s the good advice that you just didn’t take
Who would’ve thought… it figures

Life has a funny way of sneaking up on you
Life has a funny, funny way of helping you out
Helping you out

**Some is irony, others just happenstance of a situation where you wouldn’t want the outcome, or bad luck, ie, rain on wedding day, etc.
Dave Zacharandai | Nov 01, 2009

Alanis Morissette&s Time: NYC Marathon Results 2009 : In Entertainment
together as one
john mayer battle studies
wpial football playoffs
droid accessories
when is daylight savings
chipotle
what time does daylight savings time change
Club Dread
glenn bias
world series game 4 time

Here’s the video of Alanis Morissette singing the National Anthem at the 2009 World Series (Game 5). This performance took place on November 2, 2009.

To the tune of Alanis Morissette’s Ironic:

A zoologist sees a new animal
She eye-fucks him and realizes he’s a sophomore
It’s a big stain on your new white shirt
It’s his voicemail call ten times in a row
And isn’t it ironic… don’t you think

It’s like hickies all over your neck
It’s an Irish accent every night at ten
It’s a bad condom that you just shouldn’t use
Who would’ve thought… it figures

Miss Studious had a major quiz
She packed her bookbag and went to the library
She stayed up the whole damn night just to memorize
Then she realized the quiz was on Monday and thought
“Well isn’t this nice…”
And isn’t it ironic… don’t you think

It’s like hickies all over your neck
It’s an Irish accent every night at ten
It’s a bad condom that you just shouldn’t use
Who would’ve thought… it figures

A toilet paperless stall when you’ve already peed
A tarot sesh with a football star
It’s like ten thousand boys when all you need is a man
It’s meeting your soccer husband
And then finding out he likes guys
And isn’t it ironic…don’t you think
A little too ironic…and, yeah, I really do think…

It’s like hickies all over your neck
It’s an Irish accent every night at ten
It’s a bad condom that you just shouldn’t use
Who would’ve thought… it figures

Life has a funny way of sneaking up on you
Life has a funny, funny way of helping you out
Helping you out

LOVE,

Bee

Relationships and dating often come up as a topic of conversation for my close girlfriends and myself–give us a break, we’re single, twenty-somethings who can’t seem to figure out why we’re still single. On one hand I’m OK with being single, in fact, I don’t even want to date– but this doesn’t mean I’m completely OK with it. And to manage with this sentiment, I often joke about it because it’s not fun to deal with if there is no humor. Example:

No humor: “I’m single and sometimes it sucks. A lot.”

Humor: “What the heck? Why aren’t there guys lined up around the block waiting for me? I mean look at me: I’m not afraid to be silly, I like cool shit. Come on! I freakin’ tap dance for crying out loud!”

Or maybe that “humorous” one is just me and my pretend overt confidence? Whatevs. It works. We all tell ourselves silly things at one point or another to make ourselves feel better. Right? Anyway. When we start talking about this stuff–the games that are played, the men in our lives (or lack there of), the crushes, etc. my mind wanders to past relationships and the major lessons I’ve learned–the real reasons I’m not so down to date anymore. I’ve narrowed it down to two reasons:

1. I don’t want to lose myself in a relationship. I don’t want to give myself up for someone else. I’m selfish;  it took me a long to figure this out and I’m not ready to compromise. And I’m afraid of what will happen if I do.

2. I refuse to play games–especially with matters of the heart. Give me honesty, or get the hell out of my way. The end.

And that’s it, really. I’d say those are pretty valid reasons. I’d just rather be single. And until I meet someone that just completely blows me away and takes me for who I am and gives me that feeling–you know, that nervous-excited, butterflies in the stomach, tingly feeling– this is just the way it’s going to be.

And with that, I leave you with the words of Alanis Morissette, whose song I believe conveys my sentiments on this matter exactly. Enjoy!

“Well, you know what it’s like at the start, when they’re all fiery-eyed, and eager, and they haven’t seen you naked yet. And it’s like he’s smashing at your door with his mighty battering ram. And he’s promising to ravish you forever. So you brace yourself for man overload, and throw open the doors, and what do you find standing there? An oversized toddler who wants his dinner. And before you can say, ‘There’s been a terrible mistake,’ he’s snoring on your sofa, the fridge is full of empty bottles and the whole place smells of feet.” – Coupling

Earlier this autumn I had something of a retro kick and “dug out all of my old CDs” (read: looked up on iTunes) from junior high; after thinking, “I had some fucking good taste!” I started to listen to the albums as an adult rather than a 12-year-old pleading with her mother that the Parental Advisory sticker really wasn’t that big of a deal. And as I’m sure countless other women have, when I listened to Alanis Morissette’s “Not the Doctor” I thought: “Hey, this is the anthem for all of my broken, battered, and bruised romantic relationships!”

My past relationships all contain a certain guy: charismatic, funny, knowledgeable; but unfortunately also: immature, needy, careless. The Man Child. And these weren’t just personality faults, but actual life faults. While in college I made repeated excuses for guys that, honestly, were failing at life: living at home, parents’ supporting them, not doing their own laundry. In a Mid-Western academic environment it was a little chic, bohemish even. And through all of the romantic bull shit I realized (thank you Captain Obvious) that not only do I have to be a Whole Person to function well in a relationship, but he has to be a Whole Person too.

The problem with dating the Man Child is that it’s in every way exhausting. I waste time, energy, and effort on them and suddenly my social life has evaporated, I’ve gained 10-lbs, and I accept that a nice-night-in is the only kind of night I’m going to get. The Man Child is an investment that never pays back.

It started as a joke, but now I use this as a quality tool: Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs for Dating. Remember old Maslow from Intro to Psych?

Always critically inquire of yourself how your potential boyfriend meets his own needs. Be honest. I like to place The Man Child at the Physiological/Safety level: his basic meeds are met (though most likely he’s not fulfilling his own needs – he’s got someone there holding his hand). This is no longer an option, and I expect my future dates to be solidly in the Love/Esteem stage. I don’t need the Self-Actualized Man yet, but I’m no longer messing around with someone that needs a nurse, a mother, that wants to put me on top of pedestal….

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