Turkey for me and Turkey for you

The most precious time of the year is upon us and I for one couldn't be more excited! Before the sweet baby jesus graces our shitty world with his luminous presence we eat turkey every which way, shop right up to the limit on our credit cards and sing to Wam's "last christmas" (I will argue until I die, this is the best the x-mas song of all time. Yup Nat King Cole can suck it!!) That's right I am talking about the most american tradition of all: Thanksgiving. The day where we stand up and say..."I am tired of you commenting on my lumpy potatoes. Next year make them yourself!!!" Oh wait you don't say that.... perhaps you say..."No I don't have a sudden disease...I am just chubbs but thanks for bring THAT up again...." Am I getting closer...? This day was designed to remind us how lucky we are (chubbs or not) and I would like to share the 5 things I am most thankful for this year with you!!!

5) Butter
Paula Dean my idol, and her no-holds-barred-add-a-little-more-butter...nope-a-little-more-delicious-salty-and-holy-shit-why-is-it-so-delish? butter mentality. I am not a kitchen connoisseur of any kind; sometimes I find things in my cupboards I didn't even know I had (that should tell you something) but I've mastered a few dishes in mah time. I can tell you with absolute certainty that everything tastes better with a little extra butter. And by extra I don't mean a pinch. In true MC style, extra means put in what you normal humanoids think it's extra and just when you think "wow's that's a lot of butter.." that's when you know it is time to add a little more. E-X-T-R-A!!! Like the perfect accessory to an outfit, butter can bring average dishes to a new yummylicous culinary level. But at turkey time I find myself reaching for that delicious Kerry's Gold Irish salted butter (Probably one of the only good things to come out of that place...okay fine.... <*MER>...and U2!! ) again and again. I don't see the reason to EVEN have grits other than to eat a huge slop of butter to go along with it. I love all kinds of butter, salted, unsalted, whipped, churned, you name it and I am happily spreading it. So what if it's bad for my health? I am sure the brazilian blow out hair treatment, the hair dye, the gel nail polish, the hair spray, the tanning can't be good for my health either but honestly I won't live my life deprived of butter or smooth shiny straight hair. Just thinking about it makes me start to hyperventilate... When you are down and life isn't treating you so great or if in doubt...do as Paula and I and add a little more butter....

*** MER = Major Eye Roll

Really KIM K?!? THAT DOUCHE?!?!

4) Lamar Odem 

So what that I had no clue who this dude was until he married the best Kard bitch of all! Well maybe only second to Bruce. (Have you guys seen his ear accessories!? Bru please you are embarrassing yourself! Remember when you were an olympic athlete?! Nope me either! Take those studs off and get your manhood back boo.) Like most of you, the Kardashians raped my eyes and ears with their ridiculous and frivolous arguments, endless product endorsements, photo shoots, wrestling matches, ass shots, and mounds and mounds of beautifully adorned Louboutins (so jelly!). I don't know how it happened but I don't remember life before the preppiest dressed baby on television was crying about something: Scott Dissek. Ha! You thought I was gonna say Mason. Silly wabbit!! I never actually know when the show airs, but I do know every time I turn on E! they are taking Miami (I'm in Miami Trick!!!) or New York or my dignity...whatevs. The other day I was watching it and realized Lamar is my CANDY MAN!! (apparently this is his nickname on the court) I am so thankful he is around because he seems to be the only normal one and the one Kard tard who actually earns his living as a versatile basketball player. Sorry Kimmie marrying the first peen in track pants (is that all he ever wears? There isn't even an NBA season right now!) to have a lower IQ than you is NOT earning a living! Us regular bitches marry for free! Next life I am going to do it right and marry some rich old fuck. Robert Deniro was right...the working man is a sucka. So Lamar I am thankful that you make the inevitable more bearable. You got a piece of me and honestly...My life would suck without you.

 3) Bruno Mars
I have very conflicting feelings when it comes to my marsi poo. When I see your face there's a few things not a thing that I would change...Let's call a spade a spade peeps....the kid is fugly. But man oh man THAT voice. I always forget how unattractive he is until I see him in person because his voice is so powerful and soulful. Like Adele, when you hear a BM song you feels that shiz. For most women the need for strong markings in the hotness department diminishes the more involved we get. I mean this dude is gonna catch a grenade for ya! I am not exactly sure what circumstances would warrant for the below scenarios to occur.... ie: why are people throwing a grenade at me that you have to catch it?! Have the zombies taken over and food supplies are low causing #22 Shane the man to try and kill us....hmmm...Shane (if you are not watching The Walking Dead...you SHOULD be!).....Why would you throw your hand on a blade?! Don't you remember machinery safety from Tech Class Bruno?!! Jump in front of a train?! NO dude! That shit is happening errrday on the LIRR...I need that to STOP happening! If you want to kill yourself can't you find a more sensible way and hour to do it in? Perhaps the comfort of your own bathtub in the middle of the night?! I am not saying...I am just saying...take a bullet straight thru my brain....If my body was on fire....again, I ask why to both of these....but look Bru the truth is even though I am actually taller than you, I adore you. Cause you're amazing just the way you are. Your debut album has been on constant replay this entire year and if it wasn't for you telling me: today I don't feel like doing anything...is it the dancing juice? Who cares baby! I think I want to marry you! I am not sure I would make it thru some of those excel spreadsheets I stare at alllllllllll day. For this I am thankful to have you on my ipod. Of course your best song to date is your current hit "It will rain" No religion that can save me from being obsessed with that song. Well done my shortie. That song is utter perfection. Looks will fade but your beautiful voice won't. Stay away from those fuckin grenades will you?!

Please SBJ tell me the third thing before these peeps figure out I am a total fuck tard!!

2) Rick Perry (but really all Republican presidential candidates)
I was struggling for a long while to get into the 2012 election hoopla. Not just because you know it is an entire year away, but I just had not found anything specially on the GOP side, to hold my interest. Most people will remember an important day for years and years right down to the tiniest detail. The day they graduated college, the first day at their first real job, the day their child was born. For me it was a particularly difficult day: coffee had spilled on my shirt almost immediately after I left for work causing me to rearrange my fashion scheme for the day, a couple of hours later I got a stupid paper cut right on my knuckle. But then the day completely turned when I read on CNN.com that Sarah Palin could see Russia from her house. Fo realsies?! I remember this moment like it was yesterday. I was looking for a Sexy Sarah in the haystack...and there just wasn't one to be found. But then Rick Perry came and swooped in with his texas-if-you-don't-like-me-tough-shit attitude (so hot!), his gun (hotter!) and an equally distinguishable "I'm sexy and I know it mofos" grin (Yosemite Sam super hot hotness!!). If you haven't seen the youtube video when he calls some reporter a mofo and of course the now infamous "three things...but I can only remember two..." you just don't know what you are missing. Between Herman the pizza guy groping some bitches (if he had just admitted that from the get-go it wouldn't have mattered to anyone) and taking the longest pause of all time to answer a single question about Libya, Michelle Bachman's crazy eyes, I got plenty to keep me entertained at least until Iowa...then I am hoping all hell will break loose!! After all everything is bigger in Texas Iowa. So thank you sexy slick Rick for making your way into my life and for the laughs. I think of you every night and day. You took my heart and you took my pride away. I hate myself for loving you. Can't break free from the things that you do.

 

1) my dearest and dedicated reader - DUH YOU!!

I just know you bitches lovesss to read this blog! I want to tell you how much I love having a creative way to express myself and write it for you. I am thankful that each and everyone of you take the time to read about the crazy and ridic things I have to say and share it with your friends on facebook. To know me is to know I am a maniac, but to love me is to accept me as a maniac and let it entertain you using my favorite thing in the world...MUSIC!
I hope to continue to bring you interesting, creative and fun blogs for your reading pleasure. Have a great thanksgiving!!!! I love you all bitches!!

JAM OF THE WEEK: Joan Jett - I hate myself for loving you

As always keep it ferocious and fabulous!

Vienna waits for you...

There I was in the harsh light of my bathroom...is that...? Nooooo it can't be. OMG (GASP!) there's another one! Aughhhhh how could this be happening to me?! I am too young! I haven't even turned 30 yet! WTF fo reals....Should I do it?! I thought about it for a moment...could what people say really be true? Ahhh fuck it, I am just gonna do it. Phew! That was painless. And I held it up against the cruel reality of the light, just to be sure it wasn't one of my blonde highlights. Nope. It was a gray. Hair. Sweet baby J it hurts to even type it... I've had enough this is my prayer that I'll die living just as free as my hair. This is my prayer, I swear I am as free as my hair. I am my hair. I stayed in there like a psycho and after counting 7 more I almost shed a tear. Okay they were croc tears but still...I won't ever look as good as Anderson. Ever. My beloved gray fox!

 Go Go Go Go Go Go Go Shawty...It's your birfday...we gonna partay like it's your birfday...and you know we don't give a fuck cause that's your birfday! As most of you know a certain someone just celebrated a birfday. Ewww it's me. Yup the big 28. Some of you who read this blog (thank you friends for sharing on facebook! Keep it up!) and don't know me personally would've sworn based on my acronym preferred language and endless "whatevs" that I was 12. Nope. A full blown adult. Suck it conformity and full sentences. I want to die before I get old. Talkin 'bout my generation Preach Roger. Who wants to be senile and fugly?! Not me. No diggity no doubt. Aging to me is a slow road to being alone and useless. That sounds harsh but it is MC talk. Do You Realize - that everyone you know someday will die... Clearly The Flaming Lips agree with MC talk. I hate the idea of sitting in a nursing home trying to remember the best moments of my life. Or how once upon a time I wouldn't randomly drool while speaking. Okay wait...that's not a great example...since that sometimes happens. Don't judge me. You feels me though right? I will midnight it on a train to Georgia before I let that shiz happen. Going back to a simpler place and time.

I think I am going to need more cream

Wouldn't it be nice if we were older then we wouldn't have to wait so long... I distinctly remember being younger and bored in my room dreaming of the days I'd be older and super cool. In my day dreams I was always filthy rich and disgustingly skinny (oh maria you really should eat something...I know I just can't it is soooo hard), and I assure you there were no gray hairs. What I should have been doing was saving for all the anti-aging products I would be using... I wish that I knew what I know now when I was younger.  Even though Rod warned me I didn't listen. What is it about youth that makes us feel as if we are on top of the world? Invincible? Our society is not kind to high human numbers so in turn we want to remain young for as long as we can. This is a touchy subject between my hair dresser and I. Tony Bolony pulls my hair a little harder every time he hears me bitch about how old I am. To a man nearing 60 this sounds like someone needs a beat down with the blow dryer.  (Other than the self-inflicted blow dryer abuse he is an amazing hair god!! Salone De Belleze, East Islip 631-581-9247) Forever young...I wanna be forever young... But it is not my fault! Music has been obsessed with songs about aging since way back in the dark days when Tony lived. I was only able to highlight a few here, but the sheer volume of songs about aging is quite surprising. I have been conditioned to think this way.

When I am not complaining about my back hurting after I bring the groceries in, or my lack of desire to drive at night...I do think about the benefits of getting older. Jigga man says it best "I don't got the bright watch I got the RIGHT watch. I use to let my pants sag, not givin' a fuck now I got black cards, good credit and such...bae boy, cause I'm all grown up" I don't have to scheme up ways to work alcohol into my social life, I qualify for the "commuter special" at the bagel store, I get to watch R-rated movies whenever I want, and I give salty dirty looks to those annoying kids who are always playing in front of my driveway when I come home from work. Why do they have to run in front of the car as I creep up...WHY!?!?  All pluses fo shizzle. Obviously maturity is the biggest benefit coupled with realizing the things that actually matter in life: facebook newsfeed, reading my US weekly, manicures making the most of this random, ridoncolous life.

 

I AM NOT DONE WITH THE FIRST COURSE BITCH!

This point in my life resembles a certain restaurant experience that I believe we are all familiar with. There you are, you look great in your new heels and your make-up is MAJ. I die for it. You get seated at a great table and have just been informed they are serving a 5 course dinner for the price of regular dining. Ahhhhmazeballs. The first course is so delicious you can hardly believe it. The flavors explode in your mouth and you wish you could just eat this all night. There is so much food and just as you are reaching for one more glorious mouthful, the cute waiter comes over and takes it from you as the second course is coming any second now. That's what aging feels like to me. I am trying to get as much of course 1 as I can before course 2 comes and I've wasted such good food (aka life). Of course I know course 2 is gonna be epic and course 1 will pale in comparison. But I am one of those people who craves total and utter control. I want to go into the kitchen make the courses and then sample them in the order and quantity that I see fit. Nice try says life. Get back to your table!!

Slow down you crazy child...you're so ambitious for a juvenile. Where's the fire?! What's the hurry about? Billy Joel always influenced my school of thought but no song spoke to me the way Vienna seemed to then...and still does today. (You may have also seen it in the forgettable but fun Jennifer Gardner movie 13 going 30...talk about lame montage...who am I kidding I fuckin love it!) As a young adult wondering why I couldn't be in the 15 clubs I wanted to be in, his words of not growing up so fast went unappreciated by my over ambitious sassy ears. I look back and shake my head every time I see that picture of me in the Robotics club. I mean really?! What kind of shiz is that?!?! In typical Billy Joel form, his intimate and relatable lyrics accompanied by a disgustingly perfect melody make this song an anthem for weirdos like me who want to complete as much of the race upfront just in case I can't make up my time later. In 8th grade Mr. Wolgalter (holla my oregon middle school peeps!) my chorus teacher, taught me the song for my NYSSMA audition, you know, in my spare time between tennis, mock trial and drama. NERD ALERT!! From Billy's 1977 phenom album The Stranger, Vienna is a song about chillaxing and taking the time to enjoy life, while accepting that aging is not only normal but necessary. (Mr. W was trying to tell me something!) Billy found the inspiration as a surprise while on a stroll with his father in Austria were he saw an elderly woman sweeping the street. What a terrible way to spend your golden years!!! Talk about senior citizen abuse! Not so much said Mr. Billy Joel Senior; the city of Vienna allows its elder population to be productive members of society. Listen peepos gonna keep it reals with you: I can't fathom the thought of sweeping the street now as a partial PYT, let alone when I am all diapered up and cursing under my breath to nobody in particular. But you see that sneaky snickerson Billy uses Vienna as a metaphor for life. When will you realize...Vienna waits for you... Our "vienna" is waiting for us and when we are ready our landing will be flawless and seamless.

It was bittersweet to wake up on that beautiful sunny saturday and find those grays, the slight formation of wrinkles around my eyes and the realization that my body woke up feeling as though an 18 wheeler had ran over it. It was after all my day of birth..shouldn't it feel more exciting and riveting? The truth is that as difficult as it is to witness the physical changes of aging...I was excited and riveted. (But only after I exfoliated and put on more eye cream - I am a woman after all!) I thought about it and technically I started aging when I was born. We have been aging this entire time, but as the effects become more pronounced (I don't give the finger or stick out my tongue when I see bitches fall...AS MUCH as I used to..) we tend to look back more in nostalgia than forward. The stages and the time to complete them will vary for each of us. But you know that when the truth is told that you can get what you want or you can just get old. Let's get what we want AND get old!! Buckle up bitches and see ya in Vienna!!

JAM OF THE WEEK: Vienna - Billy Joel

As always keep it ferocious and fabulous!

Here's to the crazy ones

 It's gonna be the longest winter without you. I won't know where to turn to. See somehow I can't forget you, after all we've been through.... I had another blog almost completely finished for this week, but I couldn't NOT write about the man who single-handedly helped me personally develop and foster my love for music. This week we will briefly (because no post could ever do my admiration for Mr. Jobs justice) discuss the impact that his genius had on my life and the rest of the world.

Yea, this post is dedicated to all the teachers who told Steve Jobs he would never amount to nothing. And all the techies in the struggle. You know what I am saying. It's all good baby baby. It was all dream... Oh but what a great one it was. A teenager who decided his life path in the back of a garage. The only thing I ever did in a garage was...well let's not go there. After traveling through the path exactly as he wanted to, he excelled in his 56 years on earth in ways others could only imagine. Nope, not true. He was so sickeningly amazing people couldn't actually imagine it. But he did.The music library that currently resides in my pocket reminds me of the dark days of Cd's and how much I treasure the ability to retrieve any song within a few seconds. It also connects me to the man behind it all, and I feel sad at the thought of not getting to live through another one of his babies that would be the hottest gift for future Christmases. Standing in line for an apple product in the bitter cold morning hours of a black Friday will never be the same.

I have mentioned more than once how much my ipod means to me. I am currently on my 3rd one and even though it is on its last leg I can't seem to bring myself to get a new one. Actually Beatles songs sound so much better when they are skipping. No they don't. Steve just let a big "oh for the love of itunes, get a new one!" somewhere in software heaven. But like a perfectly worn in college t-shirt, or your favorite pair of socks, it has become a fiber of my personal fabric as a human being. My first ipod was the disarmingly cute pink metallic mini - first generation in 2002. Duh of course it was pink. Remember those bright neon commercials with the insane dancing?...Wow! Apple is talking to me!! This shit is Bananas B-A-N-A-N-A-S! Thanks Gwen now I always remember how to spell it. This campaign demonstrated marketing & advertising that was so purely delicious it made Don Draper and the crew shutter a bit. Suck it Ogilvy. As result of their success, the commercials put JET and The Ting Tings on the map. In my early days at the Gap we'd recreate the commercial in the store when the song came on...specially that cough at the beginning...Big black boots, long brown hair, she's so sweet with the get back stare... my old manager Brianna just shook her head in disapproval! I still stand behind the fact that the customers loved it. Interestingly enough, I was rewarded for my booty shaking as I won a store contest and got a gray mini. I was naive in those days and gave it to my boo. He still has it, but if this happened today I would just have 2 ipods, which to me, makes perfect sense.

My beauteous Pinkie and I lived through many adventures and heard amazing music together for the first time. I discovered The Doors, Dylan, Muddy Waters, and countless other legends as this god-like device helped me access music in a way I never could before. Me & Pinks tolerated Compact Discs as a means to build up our library but really we couldn't wait to be one with our songs and dump their pathetic asses. Eventually I outgrew the memory and upgraded to a classic in black. I held onto Pink for a year before I finally found a new home for it. 

I was too young to experience the Macintosh revolution of the 1980's, but I remember an entire lecture in my advertising class structured around Apple and it's infinite power to innovate. Correction: Steve Jobs' infinite power to innovate by making people do whatever it took to fulfill his vision, often exceeding even their own expectations. Prof. Lev, gave me the greatest gift in that 3 hour lecture any educator has ever given me: Foresight and inspiration. She told us any one of us could be titans in any industry we wanted. At first, I almost spit out my latte, because a quick glance around the room told me otherwise. First of all, it was a Saturday class at FIT, which meant you were either a first class nerd and the chance of missing a learning opportunity just because it was the weekend was unfathomable; or you were the bartender, waitress or stripper who was desperately trying to continue their education and this was the only time they could go (even though they slept through most of it)...and there was me: The miserable full time student who was never told the class was needed until the last semester and was already taking 5 evening classes after work....thanks FIT...you rule!!! It was highly unlikely that the 8 students in this pitiful class could be titans of anything other than mediocrity or perhaps stripping. (I swear that one girl was a stripper. I don't see justification otherwise to wear what she wore to a 1PM Saturday class, unless she was pulling a pussy double. Which hey...it is not for me to judge.) Prof. Lev saw the skepticism or actually lack of any relevant sign of life (except maybe my smirk at her comment) and she showed us the infamous 2005 SJ commencement speech. I think I held my breath during a few parts. I loved her enthusiasm in seeing our response and even Candy (I called her that in my mind because that seemed like an appropriate stripper name) perked up. Holy shit! I could be a titan!!! This is one of reasons I love that you, my dear reader, give me the chance to do this blog: I get to relive moments in my life that at first glance seem trivial or just fillers of time, but some, like this one, in fact have shaped my future and I didn't even know it! Prof. Lev told us that Steve didn't have to over pay for a fancy education because he had keen instincts. He knew his most effective weapon in the Jobs arsenal was his recognition of power in the unforeseen, beauty in the uninvented, need in the non-existent, and relentless affinity for absolute perfection no matter what it took. He also had that killer smirk, he knew he was onto something while the rest of us imbeciles where struggling to take in oxygen and walk at the same time.

Steve Jobs it turns out was a master at the same thing Missy Elliot mastered: Working it. He didn't invent actual products. He invented reinvention itself. He put his thing down flipped it and reversed it. The mac was a better PC, the ipod was a superior walkman, pixar was walt disney but on crack, and the iphone well, it left the rest of the phones looking like the ones that come with candy... including my beloved crackberry. Work it. I need a glass of water. Boy oh boy it's good to know ya. Steve Jobs said yes we can before Barack was a household name. He wasn't known for his people skills...My baby he don't talk sweet, he ain't got much to say. And maybe he don't dress fine, but I don't really mind... But his bed side manner and his choice of wardrobe were completely irrelevant when you witnessed the awe of his genius. He has inspired me and countless others to never apologize for the psychos we are and to dream ambitiously as if tomorrow might not come. He is right, it might not. He eloquently reminded us through his own struggle that our mortality can be a catalyst for achievement and accomplishment. As I would say no reason not to go balls out all the time. He will be remembered, in my opinion, above everything for changing the way we use technology in our lives, and for the tenacity it took to make us see just that. He was a dreamer of epic proportions who dreamt for all of us. Thank you Steve Jobs, you will be missed. Let's hear it for the boy.

JAM OF THE WEEK: Work it - Missy Elliot

As always keep it ferocious and fabulous!

Clarity

"One secret of success in life is for a man to be ready for his opportunity when it comes"

Opportunity sometimes stares us down begging to be taken advantage of and other times it simply passes us by in the blink of an eye. The hardest part about seizing opportunities is recognizing when the right time to step out of our comfort zone is, and then embracing it 100%. Recently I asked myself how am I supposed to know if this is what I am meant to go after? Is this the right time? Can someone give me a sign?! The truth is we don't really know.

 

The word opportunity inherently implies an advantage of some sort and it can happen on a first date (is this my chance to kiss her?), on the road while we drive (I better speed up now to get past this old lady) at the supermarket (well if it is cheaper to buy five I might as well grab it now while it is on sale) and the most important place: (at least to me) at work. Unlike the former examples where you can eventually kiss the girl (and liked it), pass miss daisy a couple of miles later, and go back to the super market for more tooth brushes if you run out, opportunity at the workplace may seem hard to come by and with finality in our mind we act cray. What if I don't get an opportunity like this again? What if this is it?!

Let's go back about two months ago. There I was...going about my life (shots shots shots shots....e'rday I am shuffling... Oh sorry I enjoyed the summer wayyy too much) when a work opportunity seemed to materialize out of nothing right before my eyes. My first reaction, as I believe it is for most people, was fear. I worry, I weigh three times my body I worry, I throw my fear around....I don't know....if I am ready to go down that road, do I really want to rock the boat right now? The first thing I did was make a list of why I shouldn't go after this opportunity. Assessing all of the things I would lose. Do I sail through? Or drop my anchor down? Then I went thru what I call the counseling period. I went to those I trust and asked for advice and opinions. Of course I had no intention of listening to any of it, because deep in my gut I already knew what to do...it just hadn't made its way up to my brain yet. I wrestled with my thoughts for about 3 days and in a split second a moment of clarity came to me. There's a calm I can't explain...by the time I recognize this moment...this moment will be gone...Why NOT do it?
 


Phew! At least I don't sweat as much as that grease monkey Maria

Before I knew it that moment of clarity set a whole chain of events in motion. Difficult and awkward conversations had to be had "it's not you it is me"...I know I have what it takes to do this....and within a week, I was sitting in front of opportunity in the form of a beautiful, powerful and fashionable female. This is it I thought. Again always with that feeling of finality that plagues me constantly. It's always 'enjoy today because you don't know what tomorrow will bring'. Well how can I do that if we are constantly told there might not be a tomorrow. I felt like a whore in church, sweating uncontrollably...down my spine under my spanx one drop at a time. Awesomeness. I was praying to the sweet baby Jesus for my t-zone to stay oil free. Remember don't use your hands too much. Is that her real hair color or are those artfully deceiving well placed highlights? FOCUS. And so it began...my chance to square off with opportunity. Turns out in that hour I learned one of the biggest lessons of my entire life and I want to share it with you.

In school we got progress reports sent to our parents. I don't know about you but mine always went a little something like this: Talks to much in class. My stupid mouth has gotten me in trouble Yup, that about sums it up. At work we have reviews. For some of us, those reviews impact our bonus which we tend to virtually spend before we EVEN know how much we are getting. My favorite time of the year only slightly behind black friday. Momma needs a new pair of TB flats! In life we just get thrown in without any periodic guidance. Cause I wonder sometimes about the outcome of a still verdict less life....Am I living it right?! Should I marry this person?! Give it a try see how it goes! Should I do drugs? Eh why not! Should I join the military? Sure what's the worst that can happen? How come we don't get life touch bases? Life reviews? Progress Reports? How are we supposed to know if we are on right track or the wrong one? How can we be absolutely sure that the decisions we make are the right ones?! After all living the most fruitful life with the least strife is our bonus in life right? The answer may surprise you: John Mayer songs Opportunity.

Yes peeps, opportunity is our compass when navigating through the yes, hell no's and maybe's of life. Unfortunately we are conditioned to think that an opportunity always leads to a positive (mostly tangible) outcome. Case in point I thought this was a good opportunity because it would lead to a new and better job. Reality check: 5 minutes into hearing about the position I knew with definitive certainty that while I was a perfect fit for the job, it wasn't a perfect fit for me. This opportunity showed me and reinforced that I am on the right yellow brick road. EUREKA! Opportunities come along not only to help us transition into new chapters but also to help us steer through the ones we are on, giving us a green light when it is time for the next one, or a red light when our work is not quite complete. Losing a job is an opportunity. Getting a divorce is an opportunity. Ending friendships with people who aren't who we thought they were; and mid-life crisis are all markers that we weren't with the people we should be with or doing what we are meant to be doing. Opportunity gets so frustrated with our relentless fear of change, eventually takes matters into its own hands and literally throws us off the path. We have a tough time seeing those events as opportunities because our connotation has always been positive.


 It is a skill to see the potential learning experience when things don't go our way. We get so hung up on the outcome that we don't realize the actual process is what keeps us moving forward. How are you supposed to know where you belong? My answer: When you have been to places, as I have, where you clearly do NOT belong. This technique may not be the fastest, or most efficient but it is opportunity that makes it easier to identify when you have arrived to your true destination.
   

JAM OF THE WEEK: Clarity - John Mayer

As always keep it ferocious and fabulous!

UEEEEEEEEEPAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Hola Amigos!!! So it is Hispanic Heritage Month. Oh you didn't know?! I guess I am not THAT surprised...Black History Month always overshadows us. Whatevs MLK we had a dream too! (Oh no she didn't!) Perhaps you didn't know it because unlike other heritage months it starts September 15 and ends October 15. Now I know what you gonna say...why do the Latinos always gots to stand out? They are so loud and passionate about even the tiniest things...to you I say...we are beautiful no matter what they say. Words won't bring us down. Preach x-tina my half Ecuadorian sister. Well for once, it wasn't the Lats. In fact it was two gringos by the name of Lyndon Johnson and Ronald Reagan. Oh yes I know this dude!! He invented some kind of economics or something right?! CRINGE! That is an actual excerpt from one of my classes, welcome to CUNY! They chose September 15th because it was the ID4 of 5 Latin American countries. Guanacos HOLLAAAA!!! (thank you Ingrid I took that right from your fb page!!) A couple other countries follow celebrating their independence in the subsequent days.  I heard about this on the radio and thought we could talk about some Hispanic music that doesn't involve J.Lo or Pitbull! Say what?! Oye now we really going rogue. DALE!!!

There have been many contributions to music by Hispanics, whether in the domestic or international markets. Some undoubtedly have made more of a dent than others who simply happened to be at the right place and in the wrong sexuality. Yea Ricky Martin I am talking to you!! I debated with myself for about 5 minutes on whether to include Ricky or not. I harbor deep deep dislike for his music and the debacle that was (upside inside out living) the vida loca which we came to find out it was a big ball of shitters. I was too young for Menudo and never found him to be attractive. To add insult to injury to the second worst song (we will talk about #1) ever recorded by a Hispanic, Ricky came out with the gem Maria Maria. Ah but of course he did... It gave the blanquitos a chance to freshen up on their Spanish counting... un... dos... tres... and falsely gave Maria's everywhere hope of one day bagging the biggest Latin pop star at the time. Rickylicious would plead: Maria I want to make you mine. Sorry boo ain't gonna happen...I am onto your game! (And I was 9 years old - creeeepy) In 1995 this song helped him move away from the stuffy ballads that had become his trademark and he instead transitioned into over gyrating of his hips and god knows how many shoulder shimmies. Maria Maria went to #1 in most of Europe and even made a very brief appearance on the billboard top 100. It was so brief you probably missed it. Sweet Enrique was responsible for radio stations playing la vida loca every 5 minutes and for the most embarrassing Asian expat America has ever seen: William Hung SHE BANGS SHE BANGS... Augh I can't do it!! Can't talk about it, I might just hurl. As we look back on Ricky's career after it is all said and done he managed to salsa and UEPA his way into the hearts of fans who would end up buying 60 million of his records. Don't get me wrong he seems like a nice guy, and if I was recruiting for a cool gay friend and NPH wasn't available I'd go with RM. But music wise, I am not deleting any songs on my ipod to make room for his. We all know he opened the doors for J.Lo, Enrique Iglesias and Shakira. I guess what I am really trying to say is that he essentially owes his fame to Maria. Asi es Maria, tan caliente y fria. Que si te la bebes de seguro te va a matar. True story peeps.

I never forgot what I heard a fellow paisan say when I was younger...the rhythym is gonna get you. Ahhh yes Gloria. It sure will. Unlike Ricky, Gloria wanted to help the Hispanics with their counting... one two three four common baby say you love me...five six seven times, eight nine ten eleven...I am just gonna keep on counting till another Hispanic gets here....till you are mine. For at least a decade no wedding was safe from the Conga. Don't you fight it, you gotta do the conga beat. I played that song about 10 times just to write the 3 sentences before this one. Research is mad rough. (You know I was in my underpants dancing like a lunatic in my kitchen. Don't be jelly.) I was a big fan of Gloria and the Miami Sound Machine. Mostly because you could clearly tell she was speaking from experience when she asked Doc doc doc doctor beat for help. I too have a fever I can't control and music makes me move my soul. Won't you help me Dr. Beat? LOVESSS. Her 80's hit, Bad Boy was reinvented by Puffy and Mase in 1997 proving that after a decade Gloria's music was still relevant. Before there was Ricky or Pit...Gloria was showing 'em how to do it in the 305.

There is a throwback joint from a one hit wonder that I absolutely love. The singer is kind of cute (in a non-threatening MS-13 kind of way), and when his song makes it into my hodgepodge of a shuffle I perk up. I sometimes randomly think about it when I am walking and hum it to myself.  I don't know what to do...I think I am in love...baby...Amor no es amor... that's right I am talking about Frankie J. Wait WHO?!?! Every true Spanish music lover's worst night mare. Ha, I remember one of my babe's friends saying "that crap isn't real Spanish music!" You are right friend it is not. I can't say that I really like listening to full blown Spanish music. Sorry Vicki, but the mega is not in my omega, and I don't know who India is. It is difficult for me to enjoy salsa, bachata and merengue because they seem too refined for my jersey turnpike. I like songs that are closer to dance pop because my ass is at its happiest when it is shaking uncontrollably. Intricate feet movements aren't as alluring to me as a grind or a booty pop and lock. Keeping it 100. Enter C&C music factory. Churning out hit after hit in dance, hip hop and latin music, they became the soundtrack to my sick running man moves in middle school and high school. Their masterfully mixed dance tunes could hardly be classified as a single genre. The song Latino Remix is the best representation of this concept. It starts more as a dance tune with a salsa vibe then transitions with the classic percussion instrument sounds. You can do a fancy salsa step or an insane booty pop. I enjoy a little creative freedom in my dance allowances within a song. Fuego fuego llame a los bomberos.

We can't talk about Spanish music without talking about Bidi Bidi Bom Bom Selena. We've all seen J.Lo bring to life one of the most charismatic and lovable women in music. I actually did not know who Selena was when she died (or her music for that matter), but I remember what a big deal it was. The video footage of the tejano singer around her family that the news kept on a constant repeat cycle, made me love her. The actual music made me love her more. The fact that she died so young and tragically was sad. Even sadder what a great success her cross album would have been...would Ricky and J.Lo still exist? Brace yourself we are about to get deep up in this piece...Dreaming of you, was a beautiful song that I loved to listen to before I fell asleep when I was younger. But of course I could only enjoy it up until 2 minutes and 45 seconds, because after that her love tells her he loves her too. I had no such love to speak of unless you count Mr. Lecci my INSANELY hot social studies teacher in 8th grade. (Ryan knows the deelio) Wait did he teach social studies? Who can actually remember?! When I met my better half I instantly understood the song. And I still can't believe that you came up to me and said... I love you. I realized what a masterful story teller Selena was with her voice and her lyrics. Okay if you haven't killed yourself we will move onto the disastrous hispanic contributions. Sorry but...you knew they were coming.

Where there is black there is white. Where there is oil there is vinegar and where there is arroz there is pollo...?!? oh wait...what's that?!.. they don't say that?! Unfortunately not all music is good music. They can't all be like Santana!!! Sometimes the bad and ugly seep in and as gluttons for punishment, we make those songs into dance crazes!! The lambada had nothing to do with spanish peeps. Next time someone asks you about the lambada (and you know it could be any day now!) you can drop some knowledge on 'em and point out that in fact that is a Brazilian song. We can't blame Giselle for the macarena. At this point in the post I would normally define the word macarena for you but since nobody REALLY seems to know its meaning (in the context of this song) we will skip that part. Then I would break down the song and tell you the interesting and meaningful parts, but since there are none we will skip that too. For the love of Daisy Fuentes what else is there?!? Oh yea, the video starring the RuPaul/Dennis Rodman look alike and the two old pervs. I vaguely remembered this video, but for you my reader I revisited it. The stench of utter disturbia still lingers in my nostrils. I am above all confused that such an offensively simple video has had a bajillion hits. First of all, what are those two dinosaurs doing in it other than waiting to die?!? Second, why is their dancing so atrocious? I understand you are from Spain but Dios mio what are those epileptic moves you are trying to pass off as dancing? Third, you aren't fooling anyone with your "look at us we love all ethnicities, there is an asian chick, a black chick, a white chick and an indian chick." Bitch please I saw the same hoes in the R. Kelly video. Why don't you settle down on ethnic diversity and maybe hmmm... I don't know add some diversity to the 16 bars you keep singing over and over. It was an embarrassing moment not just for Hispanics but for all global citizens who actually took part in this clusterfuck of ridicness. Phew! I've been waiting so long to get that off my chest! Let's hope history never repeats itself!

There have been, are and will be many Hispanics who create amazeballs music that will always be near and dear to our hearts. I have barely scratched the surface with the examples above, but these are the most memorable as they pertain to my life. Some play the race card forcefully, while others don't even mention it AHEM! Sammy Davis Jr. (Yup look it up!) Of course they should all be proud of their heritage, but I wish that we would let the music speak for itself and enjoy it for what it is instead of incessantly categorizing artists. Christina Aguilera is an incredible vocalist. Sure she's a little skanky poo but I don't let that OR the fact that she is half Ecuadorian influence my opinion of her music. Us Ecuadorians have to stick together right Brianna?! Well maybe be so in real life, but in the world of notes, bars, keys, and stories the only thing that matters is how I feel after I listen and absorb it all. That's what a girl wants....right x-tina? So in celebration of Hispanic Heritage month, I encourage all of you to visit your neighborhood bodega, eat some paella, hug a latino, listen to Gloria or make an outrageous comment about someone's heritage (WAIT YOU ARE DOMINICAN?!? HOW CAN THAT BE WHEN YOU ARE SOOOOO WHITE!??! Some where Caroline just chuckled!) trust me: they are used to it and secretly enjoy it. Excuse me while I go UEPA for no reason!!! Good to be back PEEPSSSSSSSSSS!

JAM OF THE WEEK: Dr. Beat - Miami Sound Machine

As always keep it ferocious and fabulous!