So bad it actually physically hurts

So I tuned into the VMAs last night for several reasons – JT, Gaga, the Red Carpet fashion and because I thought there might be something worth seeing in their over-hyped fabulous new Brooklyn location.  

Verdict?  Quite possibly the worst “award” show I’ve watched in years.  And yes I’m quoting the hell out of “award” because I think they gave out all of about 10 and 3 of them were on the Red Carpet.  It was pretty much a mish-mosh of generally crappy performances with bad comedy and stars with little star power in between.  

What happened to the days when legit stars in the music industry attended the big show and performed at it?  Apparently the went the way of MTV actually playing videos.  It doesn't happen.

So here's the breakdown....

The good:

Justin.  Justin.  Justin.  Quick NSYNC reunion.  Justin.  Jimmy Fallon.  Justin.

The okay:

Gaga.  Now in all fairness this woman kicked ass from the start and set her own bar so high I’m not sure she’ll ever replicate the lightning in a bottle success that was The Fame Monster.  Or this incredible performance:

Last night wasn’t my most favorite, but she’s still a totally cool lady who is doing great things for music and art and creativity and always keeps it interesting.  I will always tune in for her.

The bad:

Where do I start?

For one, I don’t know who anyone is anymore which makes me feel old as dirt.  I remember Sway (or Shea or Shashay…you know the guy).  And I know Jared Leto from the Jordan Catalano days (still epic).  And I know who Selena Gomez because the rock I live under isn’t that big.  But it kind of ended there with one major cherry on top.

Proof that the phrase “it’s so bad, it’s good” doesn’t always hold true.  In the case of Miley’s big night out it was a case of “it’s so bad, it’s horrendously awful.”

Now I know…I know…who the hell am I to be snarky and mean and make bitchy comments about her “performance”?  I’m the girl who’s still rinsing the vomit out her mouth from that train wreck.  I’ve earned the right to mock it.

Now for a little flashback moment - I remember well how genuinely horrified my mother was when we sat side-by-side during Madonna’s “Like A Virgin” performance back in the day.  I’m pretty sure my mom uttered the word “pig” 57 times during Madonna’s four

minutes roll and thrust and hump across the stage but I would still say Miley’s was far worse. And not just because I was so young and stupid back then that I didn’t get how inappropriate Madonna was.  Madonna was definitely risqué and provocative and a lot bit dirty.  And she certainly made a name for herself that night and embarked on an epic pop genius ride of reinvention and even more provocative performances and some good music (along with some bad).  But her performances were always well thought out and executed and never looked like a dirty frat party acid trip.

Miley?  Well…I’m ripe with questions and WTFs: 

• What’s with the tongue just hanging out?  I get the Gene Simmons thing.  It was his shtick.  I don’t get your tongue hanging out to the left with one eye closed.  You don’t look badass.  You look moronic.
• For the sake of teddy bears everywhere (and children everywhere) please stop exploiting stuffed animals for the sake of raunchy entertainment. It’s bad enough I have to dodge adults in Elmo and Cookie costumes every day. Leave the bears alone.  Is nothing sacred?
• There’s nothing remotely sexy, shocking or innovative about bending over with your ass in the air in a barely-there leotard and sneakers.  While still sticking your tongue out.  Twerking?  Is that what the cool kids are calling it?  (God, I feel old.) 
• Foam fingers are for sports arenas.  Not to be thrust between your legs.  Good lord!
• Stripping out of the barely-there to next-to-nothing was also unnecessary.
• Not sure why you were half-singing “Blurred Lines”, but having to watch you grind up on Robin Thicke was more uncomfortable than having to watch a sex scene in Girls.  Again, not sexy.  And you came dangerously close to ruining that song for me. 
• I get it.  You want to shatter the Disney image.  But take a lesson from Brit-Brit. If you’re going to trade the Mickey Mouse Club for the Strip Club you put on a good song and lip-sync a la “Oops I Did It Again” from the 2000 VMA’s.  People were shocked.  Brittany nailed it.  She may not be the Pop Princess anymore, but that performance certainly catapulted her there for a while.   And didn’t leave people wanting to drill needles into their eyes.  Or take a shower to wipe the ick-factor off.
• If you want to prove how different and unique and interesting and your own woman that you are, then why would you do the same stereotypical strip down and sexed up performance as so many talentless others opt for? If you want to be different….well, then, BE different.  This wasn’t creative artistic expression. This was unmitigated disaster. 

Time to take a page from the book of JT who moved gracefully from Disney to Boy Band to well-respected singer-dancer-artist-actor-entertainer-extraordinaire.   You can be racy

(see: wardrobe malfunction) and dirty (see:  Dick in a Box) and a little bit sexed up (see:  Sexy Back…and the Like I Love You video to name a few) and innovative (see:  NSYNC’s “Bye Bye Bye” also at the 2000 VMA’s).  You can weather some controversy.  Get some people talking.  Not please all of the people all of the time (no one can).  And score yourself a Video Vanguard Award all by the age of 32. 

Yes, people are talking about Miley (hell, I’m writing about the girl) and maybe that was the simple goal all along.  But I’m going to go out a limb and say this is not good chatter.  This is Amanda Bynes/Beiber-going-crazy chatter.  I really wish I could un-see what I saw.

For now, will be trying to drown out the images with this:

  

Writers Write. The End. But Also the Beginning....

I’m still coming off the whirlwind high of this weekend’s Writers Digest Conference.  It was exhausting and exhilarating and inspiring and interesting and overwhelming and makes me want to write my ass off and also makes me feel like I’ve wasted so much time not writing and squandered away too many days watching reruns of Murder, She Wrote and Castle and convincing myself it’s all in the name of research.  Or I lose countless time trying to find a good celeb haircut picture to bring to my new hairdresser on Saturday so I don’t come out looking like crap because I can’t articulate how I want to look even at this stage in my life. 

So now my head is spinning with all the things I want to do….I need to do:

• Start voraciously editing “The Legacy”.
• And at the same time read the fabulous new book I bought, “Blueprint Your Bestseller” by Stuart Horowitz, to learn how to edit and revise my way to success. 
• Actually use my Twitter account that I’ve never posted one character to, never mind 140 characters. 
• It goes without saying that I need to start following people on Twitter to get them to follow me and build my platform (which was often looked at as a 4-letter word this weekend) so when the time comes, more than friends and family will be interested in buying my book (knock on wood!!!).
• Figure out a better way to use Facebook.
• And figure out how to promote this blog. 
• Which means create more blog content so my five followers have something to read.  (And if you’re one of those five, tell your friends…repost me…spread the good word….please!!!!!!!  I’m only half kidding btw.  By which I mean not even kidding at all.)
• Read my Donald Maass books.  (His session was amazing!!!)
• Diversify.  Word is that’s the key.  You need to do more than books.  Or just articles.  Or just. one. thing.
• So now I have to research websites and brainstorm and write some more.

And on and on it goes. I don’t even know where to begin, but I’m so anxious to start going, but here I am, kind of frozen with all my choices.  My head is literally spinning.

But what it all boils down to is this – writers write.  It’s that simple.  It’s like eating well and working out will help get you and keep you in shape.  Duh!  We get it.  We know it.  But it’s still one of the hardest things for us to do.  I somehow procrastinate from the things I do want to do deep down...that I like to do.  (Though some days I do really hate running.  Like a lot.)  

So that of course begs the question of why do I sometimes avoid the one thing I love.  That I say I love.  That I want to do.  To write.  It's what it's all about.  

But here's the thing.  Writers write.

And I’ll keep saying it over and over.  Writing it over and over.  Reminding myself over and over. 

WRITERS WRITE.

One of the last speakers I saw yesterday told us to take a week…let it all sink in…don’t try to get it all done in the next few hours or next few days, which is of course the natural instinct. I was all gangbusters that I would do Camp NaNoWriMo in April, which is another chance to knock out 50,000 words and reboot my writing…looks like I’ll be waiting for the July Camp, seeing as how it’s April 8^th and while I did actually get some ideas down over the course of the weekend, I’m definitely not in a 50,000 word state of mind.

So for now, I’m reading over my notes.  Being pretty amazed by it all.  Letting my mind run wild. 

And channeling the advice of all the amazing people I met and saw this weekend:

• Write to quota.  Commit to a certain number of words, not hours, a week.
• Embrace the weirdness.
• We resist the parts of our book that are weakest. Confront them and work on them.
• Embrace patience.
• Or its cousin, stubbornness.
• Write through the block.
• Write without fear.
• Go to the bookstore – the cathedral of books.  And pray.
• Become part of a writing community.
• Writers write.

I could go on and on. If I could transcribe Adriana Trigiani and Tayari Jones’s entire speeches I would.  But instead I’ll leave you with this…whether you’re a writer or not, I hope it resonates in some way:

“The energy you put out there is the energy you get back…Once you commit to lighting your passion, doors will open for you.” – T.J.

“You’re not defeated.  You just haven’t been found yet.  Persist.” – A.T.

Manic Monday - Vault Open? Vault Closed?

Every once in a while I have a bit of buyer’s remorse that I went all “hey, it’s me” with this blog because that means I can’t always say what I really, really want to say.  And yeah, I know, I can do whatever I want. It’s a free country.  Blah-di-di-blah-blah-blah.  But as soon as I let loose and let it all hang out…that’s when the buyer’s remorse might kick in. 

Like if I wrote here what I’d say in text rant about my craptastic day and the people who made it that way. What I’d verbally vomit between glasses of wine and asking our lovely waitress “can we get some more chips?”.  What I’d scream at the TV when I watch bad good reality TV or E! or Girls or whatever else I’m obsessing with these days.  What last brought me to tears. (It’s more embarrassing that you’d even think. But shockingly it wasn’t the Lifetime movie Restless Virgins that I DVR’d and then watched in it’s horrid entirety.  That actually made me laugh.  And filled me with a bit of rage that crap like that gets made into a movie and I’m still striving to find an agent for what I think is far better writing in my book.  But I’m obvi totally biased.)  And of course if I said some of the thing that crossed my mind on a daily basis…this might get upgrade to a “not suitable for children” rating. 

But don’t get me wrong.  I’m still a bucket full of honest here.  Swear.  But some days it’s more like the cautious honesty you have with people you work with or people you just don’t want to invite inside the vault.  Not yet at least.  They get the honesty…but they don’t get the full disclosure.  Lest they think you were selfish or immature or insensitive or crazy or that you have bad taste in TV or that you rage too much on the weekend or that you are nightmare in relationships or that you should spend more time (or maybe less time) with your family.  That you whine and bitch and complain and judge and are a pushover or not opinionated enough or have way, way, way too many opinions.

And sure at the ripe old age of now, maybe I shouldn’t care.  And trust me when I say it’s not that I care.  But if we’ve learned anything from celeb Twitter accounts….you can’t always unring the bell.  And you can’t always unsee things. (Ugh. I’m back to that damn Bieber-is-shirtless-in-the-hospital image again. Damn you J.B.  And the cherry on top? You have a freak-out at the paparazzi. You’re giving them what they want.  And I know you have all sorts of weird pressure and you’re still a freaking tween living in a fake reality.  But to paraphrase some random person who I came across while surfing the US Weekly site in a daze this weekend- Bieber is one shaved head and umbrella away from a Britney 2007.  Cautionary tale, J.B.  Trust.  I’m not all kinds of honest here, but this is lots of honest.

Here comes the Libra.  You can’t unring that Bieber bell.  But I’m also a girl who likes to ring her bell.  Do we need balance?  Or are we just uber-complicated chicks?  Both, of course.

So the vault is open.  A bit.  I’m just going to be careful about what I let out.  And maybe change the faces and places to protect the innocent.  (Or rather not-so-innocent because they always make for more interesting stories anyway.)

Unfortunately sometimes I’m a big old sieve.  (Goalie!  Sieve!  Goalie!  Sieve!)  And it’s not always drinking thinking, so I really really have no one to blame but myself.   Like the other day at work when I didn’t even feel a slight twinge of shame when I not only admitted that I know what The Lying Game is, but in an effort to explain how horrible of a show it is I actually revealed that I’ve seen every episode since it premiered…and PS – we’re in Season 3 now….and not even Cordelia being on it can justify this Buffy 4-Eva fan watching it.  But I just can’t stop talking about it.  Even though the people I’m talking to are looking at me with wide eyes and a look that absolutely says they are embarrassed for me.  And then I tell them why I think Ethan is better than Thayer (officially worst teen soap name ever by-the-by).  Sigh.  I know.  Shame. 

But I’m cool with it.  Some people get very little out of me….some people get just enough to know who I am….and the rest….well, sorry you get the whole Kukla Fran and Caboodle.  If you know me at all, this is not a shocker.  If you don’t so much know me then apologies in advance.  Because here’s my Catch-22.

In order to get everything that’s in my head - and blocking all that creativity that I need to pour into my novel writing - I need to write it all down and get it out.   Stat. (Especially since the Writer’s Digest Conference is 3 weeks away and I don’t think I’ll have a new manuscript to pitch. But still going to be worth it.  Inspiration.  Motivation.  The kick in the ass I need.)  So I need to purge all the voices in my head…but not “voices” in a Sybil way….just in a I-have-a-lot-on-my-mind-that’s-kind-of-totally-weighing-me-down way.  And this is one of the places it’s going to happen. 

Apologies again for that about to happen.  But not just yet.  Because it’s Monday night and my brain is fried. And not only am I voluntarily watching 90210 (which no shocker here…is ending after this season.  RIP.   How dare you rival a classic?) I also watched the latest RHOBH.  And oddly Camille and Brandi make a cameo on 90210.  This is turning into a very odd/full circle kind of a night. 

And in something related to nothing, watching them in Paris is making me so So SO excited to go back.  So every time the cray cray from work (and life) starts to bleed into my brain I think about the light at the end of the tunnel. PARIS!  And I think about the wine…and the cheese…and the adventure we’re going to have…and the chocolate…and the scenery….and the great escape….and summertime pictures to balance out my November pictures from my last trip….and hopefully, maybe, if I’m lucky baby gets a brand new bag! 

I’m also so overtired and delusional that I got all choked up when Mauricio was on the bridge with Kyle and locked their lock and threw away the key.  But that’s a lusty crush for another day.  And here’s my other full circle moment….I don’t know why the hell Kyle’s store has the tagline “by Alene Too”.  But since I’m an Alene then I’m guessing it can be Mauricio and Alene TOO? 

In the words of Lisa Vanderpump.  “BOOM!”

And this song is for no other reason than that it's amazing.  And why it's in my head is a story for another day!

Manic Monday: No Laundry But I'll Always Have Paris

It’s not just Manic Monday here.  It’s more like Manic Weekday.  And I’m really, truly starting to believe that it may not end.  Not anytime soon.  Maybe not ever.  Which I know is crazy.  Everything comes to an end eventually, right?  Or at least they say all good things do.  “They”.  (Who are the ladies?  We are the ladies.)  So if all good things…then all bad things must come to an end. It’s the what goes up must come down.

Luckily I found some calm this weekend.  Much needed.  Long overdue.  Inhale.  Exhale.  TV.  DVR. FreeShowtimeandpaysforitselfHBObecauseGirlsisamazing.  And fun.  A nap.  Read up on the Writers Digest Conference in April.  Have to pull the trigger on that one.  Spent the weekend checking some things off the list.

What I didn’t do is the laundry.  Which is currently taunting me.  Haunting me.  But I don’t have the energy to go downstairs and face the fact that the machines might be taken.  And then I have to roll it all back up.  (Yes.  I have a folding, rolling cart.  People envy it.  I see people bring their laundry down in trash bags.  I mean not for nothing.  Respect your stuff, even when it’s dirty. 

What I really wish is that I didn’t have to roll it downstairs because I magically will have a washer/dryer in my apartment.  It doesn’t sound like the biggest wish list item…or maybe it’s big, but not the most popular…but it’s mine.  I also realize the reality of the situation.  That as long as I continue to live in NYC it will never happen for me.

It will fall into the list of things that will never happen for me.  (Probably.  Most likely.  Never ever.)  Like walking the Red Carpet in Chanel.  Climbing some major mountain.  (Though in all fairness I have no interest in that.)  Being on Oprah’s Next Chapter (which I’m watching only because Drew Barrymore is on it and she’s is by far one of the most amazing ladies out there.  And I would love to hang with her for a day because I feel like she’d be so damn cool.  Though that happening…probably also not going to happen for me.)  And chances are I won’t get to make out with Bradley Cooper.  And b-t-w that’s Bradley Cooper the actor.  Not just some guy named Bradley Cooper.  Which I feel the need to clarify because I met Mariano Rivero today.  But not the-greatest-closer-in-baseball.  The security guard on Park Avenue.  Who I asked if he got great dinner reservations over the phone.  He found zero humor in me. 

 

Moving on….I’m in procrastination mode.  I need to face the 20-page refinance document that’s awaiting me.  Which means a credit check. Which means I should pay my bills first so my secret shopping shame isn’t as blatant.

Manic Monday…beginning of Manic Weekday.  And so it begins…..

Work is hard.  Non-work life is hard.  But sometimes in that good way.  And where the reward for the hard work is in my hands.  Case in point.  Booked the tickets to Paris.  I don’t even have words for how excited I am for this trip.  Had a delicious first trip and have been ready to go back ever since.  And I’m going to obsess about it for months to come.  Consider yourselves warned!

Less-than-manic this Monday!

So Monday’s are far less manic when it’s a free Monday. Which is what today is. I haven’t had MLK as a holiday in like ever.  So today feels like a free pass. Almost like I’m playing hooky but my work email isn’t pinging every five minutes so I don’t have to feel guilty about not looking at it. (Even though I brought home a pile of work to do which is taunting me from my dining room table.)

So earlier today, I was group texting with the ladies like we’re wont to do, relaying the plays for the day.  My “to do” list was quite long and according to one of my friends, rather ambitious.  And it’s not like I ever quite get it all done – ever – but I’m back to the “if I build it he will come” of things in that “if I say I’m going to do it, I’ll do it.  Eventually.  One day.  Maybe today.  Maybe not so much today, but tomorrow or next weekend.”  And I say that since most weeknights I make all sorts of deals with myself and all the things I’ll get done over the weekend or all the things I could get done during the week if I could just magically be financially independent and quit my job and suddenly have 24 hours a day that were mine MINE!!!!

But then I wake up from that fantasy and do my damndest to knock a few things off the life list.  Today wasn’t all bad – finished my book, did yoga, made some actually food for lunch that will totally have a second coming tomorrow as leftovers for lunch which means I don’t have to buy it or make something new. Win. Win.

But what I really need to do, that I’ve been half-assing for months is put some clothes back on eBay.  I’ve dipped a toe in that pool and made some decent money. But it takes time.  (Yes.  I know I technically just had three whole days.)  And it takes some commitment.  (You have to follow it at least daily in case there are questions or people actually pick the “Buy It Now” option.).  And I have to photograph my clothes and try to come up with some quippy little descriptions that will garner some attention and get people to buy my things.  Truth is, since I’m in the self-imposed spend freeze (minus those winter boots from Zappos last night, but that’s necessity because it’s winter and the lining of my boots decided to kick the bucket in January….asshole boots.  Can boots be assholes?).

Moving on….I saw a dress that I wanted.  Desperately. It was on What Not To Wear and like most anything that I want…the obsession develops…and want turn into must have.  In this case, the dress was of course sold out everywhere, because the show was taped months ago.  But then I found it….on eBay.  Now the new me…the spend-freeze me….sleeps on things. Tries not to be impulsive.  Tries to weigh the pros and cons and not have the instant gratification trigger finger.  Mind you this is much easier when I do not have a glass of wine in my hand. Or three already coursing through my veins. 

I am very proud to say I slept on this dress, so to speak, for almost a week.  And then I decided it was worth it.  Let’s hope I’m right and that it looks as good on me as I’m hoping it will. (And that it's a little longer than it appears to be on this girl.)  But that’s what led me back down this path of eBay.  Sell more. Buy more.  And of course there’s this JCrew dress circa 2010 that’s popped up….on auction.  And a JCrew collection skirt from 2008.  Same deal.  And good prices.  And like any good junkie I want them!  NOW!  I feel like this is fate…destiny…karma…every star aligned for me.  Good pricing.  My sizing.  The fashion gods are sending me a sign. 

That should be motivation enough.  But then I popped in my Netflix movie so I can drop it in the mail tomorrow.  (Anyone for Pitch Perfect?)  Nothing saps my energy like a movie…. especially when I opt to paint my toenails, which means I’m locked to the couch for fear of screwing them up. One might say I do that on purpose. One would be right.

And now it’s starting to get dark out and the reality that tomorrow exists is starting to set in. And Sunday blues come a day late.  Big sigh.  But trying to turn the ‘tude around and keep snatching great lines from tumblr and looking at them over and over until it penetrates.  Here’s hoping!

And one little gripe before I go.  So PP was entertaining for what it was.  Love to sing along.  And while I love me a “Preview” feature before a movie, I’m equally excited about the “Special Features” that come along with the DVD.  So….I have to say if they are an option…and you click on them…and get this big-ass error message that says “this DVD is for rental purposes only and buy the real DVD if you want to actually see these special features we are teasing you with”.

Damn you, Netflix. It’s like you know I’m breaking up with you at the end of the month because your DVD program doesn’t do it for me anymore.  And because I’m getting two movie channels now (Showtime for free and HBO for Girls. And $15.) and while they are mostly filled with crap I will never watch, I don’t need DVD rentals collecting dust next to my To Do list.  Just saying.

Time to get back to it.  Or maybe take a manic-free-day nap.  That sounds so much better to me…..

And if you didn't see this video coming, then you really need to go back and read this blog from the beginning...this is what I live for.