I'm a massive fan of "So You Think You Can Dance." And because I didn't say that I'm a massive fan of "Dancing with the (loosely defined) Stars", it's safe to say this is Michelle and not Dawn writing. (Regarding "Dancing w/ the Stars", I admit: everyone likes a good "Comeback Kid" story. But no one wants to see Denise Richards come back from anywhere she's been.)
My affection for SYTYCD (which is what "So You Think You Can Dance" will go by from here on out because evrythng needs 2 b abbrviatd now, rght?) is due to a few things. 1) I. LOVE. DANCE. And all things dance-related. (With the exclusion of any form of dance done in the style of "country", the style of swing [if you're 72 or older, bless your heart and keep it up. If you do swing strictly because it exploded back on the scene in about 1996 as a trend and you haven't let go of it since, we probably aren't friends.], and ballroom dancing, unless it's salsa or cha-cha or some other ridiculously fast, sultry style of dance that involves spangly costumes and t-strap shoes.)
I have always adored dancing and have missed it like crazy (it's been a long time since high school dance class, folks), and finally took it up again about 10 months ago. Ahhhh, the relief! (The brief bouts of hyperactive dancing and Elaine Benes ["Seinfeld." Look it up.] impersonations at wedding receptions were all I'd had to go on, and that simply wasn't cutting it.) So, all that to say, when I watch someone dance, I remember how it felt to perform, the adrenaline rush and the constant, exhausting but thrilling feel of repeating the choreography over and over, sweating so excessively that you're flinging it on to other people's faces, and yet knowing the moment you hear the music begin again, you'll be out there dancing. Plus, it's just the most enjoyable thing to see someone dance with so much stunning grace. Or, if we're talking about hip-hop, with so much power and such a bad a$$ expression on their face. That's just filthy fun right there.
The other reason for my fan status is because the contestants on SYTYCD are all REAL people who adore dance more than life and are caught up in the fun and passion of it all. There's no motive for career revival going on. The things these people are asked to do in the amount of time they have to do it in, is unreal. They're usually starry-eyed "kids" who respect things like ballet or classic Bob Fosse style musical choreography. And the choreographers! They're also real, behind-the-scenes people; they just happen to be crazy, crazy-good at what they do. I mean, certain performances from the show have won Emmys. Someone just let me know if I missed the Emmy nomination Pam Anderson's choreographers got when she was on "Dancing w/ Fame Junkies like Kate Gosselin." Now, I can't say I've seen a single episode of the other dance show, but I think I can safely assume there's drama involved...and enough of it to land most of the "stars" on US magazine. More than once.
Here's the thing, though. My only complaint about SYTYCD (besides the stupid and not all that helpful abbreviation) is the fact that they let America choose the winner. Based on tonight's episode alone, I'm guessing the only people voting are girls between the ages of 12 and 16 whose requirements for "a skilled dancer" consist of how cute and nice-to-look-at the boy dancers are, and how much they burn with seething, angst-ridden jealousy over the girl dancers. CLEARLY, that was the only answer for tonight's decision. So, my advice to the producers? Let the judges on the show decide who should win. Judges, since they make judgements, are typically known to
be the people deciding things in the end.
But until that happens, SYTYCD, I remain faithfully yours.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
It's a Celebration! Bring your Party Hat & your Bag of Bodily Waste!
Happy anniversary of the lunar landing, everyone!
What did you do to celebrate? I'll tell you what I did. I constructed a model of the moon out of old newspapers and a combination of water and glue, and put layer upon layer of the soggy newspaper on a HUGE cylindrical piece of foam. I then put on my space suit that I have on hand for special occasions (such as, celebrating the anniversary of the lunar landing, or when I eat freeze dried ice cream and it just feels wrong to eat it in anything but a space suit.), and then I invited friends over to commemorate the occasion with me - but only the friends who also own space suits and who bring their own urine bags. You know, for when we simulate our flight to the moon.
Then, we all firmly planted a little American flag into our moon model, stood in reverant silence with our hands over our hearts for a few minutes....and then we tracked down all the crazy conspiracy theorists who want to sabotage American history by claiming our government created the whole thing, and we teach them by any means necessary how very, very wrong they are. All in the name of patriotism.
That's not really what I did at all. I actually let people celebrate my birthday, which they did rather nicely, I might add. Yes, I, Michelle, was born on the anniversary of the lunar landing. (And sadly, I think my birthday usually gets more attention than the rememberance of the lunar landing does. Let's get our priorities straight, America.) But! -and this is exciting - my sister reminded me of yet another occasion that falls on my birthday: I get to share my special day with Lindsay Lohan's special day! That being, her big move into her new neighborhood (prison) for a 90 day stay (not long enough).
But enough about memorable moments....Because of my known love for all things astrological*, Dawn was nice enough to bring in my horoscope so that I could see what I had to look forward to today, the day I was birthed. I rubbed my hands together in wide-eyed anticipation, and sat down to read my future! I'm a Cancer, in case you're wondering. This is what it said:
You are sympathetic and understanding of other people's problems (so far, so good), which makes you a sucker. (Waaaaiiiit a minute....) You always keep putting things off. This is why you'll always be on welfare and won't be worth a $%#t. Everybody in prison is a Cancer.
Why, thank you, Dawn. Once I realized it was just a joke, we just laughed and laughed. (PHEW! I mean, these things are pretty accurate so you can understand why I would've been worried. For example, one time my horoscope told me to buy myself a dreamcatcher if I wanted the stars to align for me, and that thing's been bringing me nothing but steadfast peace and good feelings every time I glance at it hanging from my rearview mirror. And that's really all we can ask of the universe, isn't it?) I'd love to include what Dawn's horoscope said, but I'm not sure how appropriate that would be. Let me just say, the words "venereal disease" were used.
So, there you go. A birthday, a moon landing, and a brand new neighbor in the Los Angeles correctional facility. What a day!!
Huh. I wonder if Lindsay is a Cancer.
*False.
What did you do to celebrate? I'll tell you what I did. I constructed a model of the moon out of old newspapers and a combination of water and glue, and put layer upon layer of the soggy newspaper on a HUGE cylindrical piece of foam. I then put on my space suit that I have on hand for special occasions (such as, celebrating the anniversary of the lunar landing, or when I eat freeze dried ice cream and it just feels wrong to eat it in anything but a space suit.), and then I invited friends over to commemorate the occasion with me - but only the friends who also own space suits and who bring their own urine bags. You know, for when we simulate our flight to the moon.
Then, we all firmly planted a little American flag into our moon model, stood in reverant silence with our hands over our hearts for a few minutes....and then we tracked down all the crazy conspiracy theorists who want to sabotage American history by claiming our government created the whole thing, and we teach them by any means necessary how very, very wrong they are. All in the name of patriotism.
That's not really what I did at all. I actually let people celebrate my birthday, which they did rather nicely, I might add. Yes, I, Michelle, was born on the anniversary of the lunar landing. (And sadly, I think my birthday usually gets more attention than the rememberance of the lunar landing does. Let's get our priorities straight, America.) But! -and this is exciting - my sister reminded me of yet another occasion that falls on my birthday: I get to share my special day with Lindsay Lohan's special day! That being, her big move into her new neighborhood (prison) for a 90 day stay (not long enough).
But enough about memorable moments....Because of my known love for all things astrological*, Dawn was nice enough to bring in my horoscope so that I could see what I had to look forward to today, the day I was birthed. I rubbed my hands together in wide-eyed anticipation, and sat down to read my future! I'm a Cancer, in case you're wondering. This is what it said:
You are sympathetic and understanding of other people's problems (so far, so good), which makes you a sucker. (Waaaaiiiit a minute....) You always keep putting things off. This is why you'll always be on welfare and won't be worth a $%#t. Everybody in prison is a Cancer.
Why, thank you, Dawn. Once I realized it was just a joke, we just laughed and laughed. (PHEW! I mean, these things are pretty accurate so you can understand why I would've been worried. For example, one time my horoscope told me to buy myself a dreamcatcher if I wanted the stars to align for me, and that thing's been bringing me nothing but steadfast peace and good feelings every time I glance at it hanging from my rearview mirror. And that's really all we can ask of the universe, isn't it?) I'd love to include what Dawn's horoscope said, but I'm not sure how appropriate that would be. Let me just say, the words "venereal disease" were used.
So, there you go. A birthday, a moon landing, and a brand new neighbor in the Los Angeles correctional facility. What a day!!
Huh. I wonder if Lindsay is a Cancer.
*False.
Saturday, July 17, 2010
What's in a name?
I have quite a few much younger friends who are in the whole family-starting mode right now. There is lots of discussion of naming the little cherubs. I thought I'd offer some guidelines for parents-to-be:
Make sure the child's initals do not spell out anything terrible. ex: My lovely friend Heather. Her initials pre-marriage were H.A.G. NOT good. (Her mom totally should have thought that through.) On the flip side, there are cool initial combos. My stepson Jeff: initials J.A.M. (musician hubby obviously thought that through.)
Make sure, please people, that you do not name your male child something that will ensure that he gets beat up every day. Children are cruel. Ex: Beau, Angel, Jaylen, Emery, Sailor. (If you must name him something girly, please enroll him in JeetKunDo.)
No "Cowboy" names. Please eschew Cheyenne, Dakota, Taos, and Kali. It's just dumb.
Use caution with ethnic names. Unless the name is completely cool, ex: Shaquille O'Neal, please ask trusted friends if your baby's name will ensure that she will never be hired in a law firm when her resume competes with Stephanies and Lauries. Ex: Shaniqua, Younique. (Don't be mad at me folks, there are studies that prove this.)
Please make sure your child's name will not automatically lead her into the sex industry. For example, when I was pregnant and considering girl names, I loved the name Savannah. My last name then was Sanders, and a good friend pointed out that "Savannah Sanders" from Las Vegas, no less, was a shoo-in for "featured dancer" status.
Please watch out for old family names. I'm sure you adore your Aunt Edna and your Grandpa Harold, but no. Not even as a middle name. (There is a reason that Declan McManus changed his name to Elvis Costello.) Cool "old" names: Harrison, Olivia, June, Molly
Last but definitely not least, do not name your child after a celebrity, famous or infamous, unless they have a normal name. In 25 years it will just be stupid. Ok: Brittney, Lindsay, Brad, Angie. NOT ok: Madonna, Beyonce, Hannah or Montana, Kobe, or Adolph.
I hope I have not offended anyone with my suggestions on how to select a name. You can dismiss all my stupid opinions just by saying, "What does she know? She named her kid John."
just Dawn
Make sure the child's initals do not spell out anything terrible. ex: My lovely friend Heather. Her initials pre-marriage were H.A.G. NOT good. (Her mom totally should have thought that through.) On the flip side, there are cool initial combos. My stepson Jeff: initials J.A.M. (musician hubby obviously thought that through.)
Make sure, please people, that you do not name your male child something that will ensure that he gets beat up every day. Children are cruel. Ex: Beau, Angel, Jaylen, Emery, Sailor. (If you must name him something girly, please enroll him in JeetKunDo.)
No "Cowboy" names. Please eschew Cheyenne, Dakota, Taos, and Kali. It's just dumb.
Use caution with ethnic names. Unless the name is completely cool, ex: Shaquille O'Neal, please ask trusted friends if your baby's name will ensure that she will never be hired in a law firm when her resume competes with Stephanies and Lauries. Ex: Shaniqua, Younique. (Don't be mad at me folks, there are studies that prove this.)
Please make sure your child's name will not automatically lead her into the sex industry. For example, when I was pregnant and considering girl names, I loved the name Savannah. My last name then was Sanders, and a good friend pointed out that "Savannah Sanders" from Las Vegas, no less, was a shoo-in for "featured dancer" status.
Please watch out for old family names. I'm sure you adore your Aunt Edna and your Grandpa Harold, but no. Not even as a middle name. (There is a reason that Declan McManus changed his name to Elvis Costello.) Cool "old" names: Harrison, Olivia, June, Molly
Last but definitely not least, do not name your child after a celebrity, famous or infamous, unless they have a normal name. In 25 years it will just be stupid. Ok: Brittney, Lindsay, Brad, Angie. NOT ok: Madonna, Beyonce, Hannah or Montana, Kobe, or Adolph.
I hope I have not offended anyone with my suggestions on how to select a name. You can dismiss all my stupid opinions just by saying, "What does she know? She named her kid John."
just Dawn
Monday, July 12, 2010
The Cleverness Abounds
I really wish I had come up with this, but I can't (or, won't. Due to integrity) take the credit for this bit of cleverness. My brother sent it to me. It was written by a friend of his. But! One redeeming fact is that my brother proceeded to call me a "literary nut" - his reasoning for sending this to me. I have no problem going by that title.
How to Write Good
1. Avoid alliteration. Always.
2. Prepositions are not words to end sentences with.
3. Avoid cliches like the plague. (They're old hat.)
4. Employ the vernacular.
5. Eschew ampersands & abbreviations, etc.
6. Parenthetical remarks (however relevant) are unnecessary.
7. It is wrong to ever split an infinitive.
8. Contractsions aren't necessary.
9. Foreign words and phrases are apropos.
10. One should never generalize.
11. Eliminate quotations. As Ralph Waldo Emerson once said, "I have quotations. Tell me what you know."
12. Comparisions are as bad as cliches.
13. Don't be redundant; don't use more words than necessary; it's highly superfluous.
14. Profanity sucks.
15. Be more or less specific.
16. Understatement is always best.
17. Exaggeration is a billion times worse than understatement.
18. One-word sentences? Eliminate.
19. Analogies in writing are like feathers on a snake.
20. The passive voice is to be avoided.
21. Go around the barn at high noon to avoid colloquialisms.
22. Even if a mixed metaphor sings, it should be derailed.
23. Who needs rhetorical questions?
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
"I saved $700" or "Dog Esophagus"
I raced home from taekwondo tonight (ask Rick about the FOOTPRINT upside his head!!!), went to make dinner in record time (Footprinthead doesn't like to eat late.), and feeling pretty great about class tonight, my lack of back pain in association with class tonight, and just generally, a good evening. *Smiling*
On deck for dinner: Grilled chicken for the guys and delicious soy crumbles for me. Made Tangerine Balsamic grilled onions and was slicing an avocado. I dropped the pit on the floor when, faster than a 9 year-old Labrador should ever move, Rex moved in and promptly Hoovered it up. Having had a $300 swallowed rock (yes, rock) experience with sweet Rex in the past, I pounced on him like Little Dre on the Mean-Chinese-Kung-Fu-Guys. (Please see Karate Kid for cultural reference. LOVED it!) He refused to give up his prize. Next, I reached three-quarters of the way down to his greedy dog stomach and hooked out the pit. Gross? Yes. (But not as gross as chicken, frankly.) Apparantly fine, he went about his business happily snuffling up crumbs from the kitchen floor.
The way I see it, I saved $300-$700 dollars in vet bills by horking out the pit myself. Glass half-full? You bet! Zappos, anyone?
just Dawn
On deck for dinner: Grilled chicken for the guys and delicious soy crumbles for me. Made Tangerine Balsamic grilled onions and was slicing an avocado. I dropped the pit on the floor when, faster than a 9 year-old Labrador should ever move, Rex moved in and promptly Hoovered it up. Having had a $300 swallowed rock (yes, rock) experience with sweet Rex in the past, I pounced on him like Little Dre on the Mean-Chinese-Kung-Fu-Guys. (Please see Karate Kid for cultural reference. LOVED it!) He refused to give up his prize. Next, I reached three-quarters of the way down to his greedy dog stomach and hooked out the pit. Gross? Yes. (But not as gross as chicken, frankly.) Apparantly fine, he went about his business happily snuffling up crumbs from the kitchen floor.
The way I see it, I saved $300-$700 dollars in vet bills by horking out the pit myself. Glass half-full? You bet! Zappos, anyone?
just Dawn
Saturday, July 3, 2010
The Only Kind of "Baby" I Actually WANT to Birth
So, Dawn, should we make our big announcement? I think our loyal readers (or, any reader, really) deserve to know the exciting news.
Here goes: Everyone? Dawn and I are having a healthy little....PEACE trip to Rwanda next spring! Thank you, thank you. I know - we're just thrilled. It's the first one for both of us so, naturally, there's some nervousness involved. (I didn't use the word "anxiety" there because "nervousness" can at least connote excited anticipation, while "anxiety" just carries a sense of dread and terror that paralyzes every muscle in your body except the muscles that so obediently cause your stomach to reject any little thing it's hanging onto, and then promptly and explosively dispels of it all, ironically, the very way it came in. That kind of anxiety.)
Following the advice of other parents of PEACE trips, we have our manuals and will be doing some reading and research, and we'll get all the items necessary for two first-time participants after doing some comparison shopping via Consumer Reports. I just know all the hard work and 9 months (that part's not a joke - we're going next March. Maybe May, but we'll see) of waiting and wondering will all be worth it. I can't wait to see who our little bundle will look like. (Probably neither of us, actually. Because we're going to Rwanda and I don't know if you've seen either Dawn or myself lately, but... we're both pretty much the color of freshly bathed sheep fleece.)
Dawn's already let people in on it, but I'm waiting to make my announcement in the only appropriate, expected, and socially acceptable way: on Facebook. I think I'll do that on my upcoming birthday. You know, in order to counteract the ugly and less-than-fun day it will be. (3 and 0 are just nasty looking little numbers, aren't they? Nothing good ever comes from odd numbers.) Yes. I've decided that's a pretty good plan. So, that means you all get to hear about our fun news before the 387 or so "friends" I've forgotten I have on Facebook! You lucky people.
All this to say, Dawn and I are beyond excited and still in shock that we both agreed to do the trip. The story of how it all came about is pretty cool (due to the fact that God's presence and power to change hearts was all over it), and maybe Dawn will put it in her own words since it all started with her. I'm overjoyed at the thought that I get to share this experience with Dawn. God's doing crazy, unexpected things in our lives and in our relationships with Him, I think. And that's how He makes life exciting for us.
Now. Onto fundraising.... (My anxiety over asking for money and how terribly weak and passive I am when I attempt to ask for financial assistance deserves a blog post all its own. I'm sure I'll be dry heaving as I send out my fundraising letter. But (sigh)...that's what comes with morning sickness, I guess.)
Here goes: Everyone? Dawn and I are having a healthy little....PEACE trip to Rwanda next spring! Thank you, thank you. I know - we're just thrilled. It's the first one for both of us so, naturally, there's some nervousness involved. (I didn't use the word "anxiety" there because "nervousness" can at least connote excited anticipation, while "anxiety" just carries a sense of dread and terror that paralyzes every muscle in your body except the muscles that so obediently cause your stomach to reject any little thing it's hanging onto, and then promptly and explosively dispels of it all, ironically, the very way it came in. That kind of anxiety.)
Following the advice of other parents of PEACE trips, we have our manuals and will be doing some reading and research, and we'll get all the items necessary for two first-time participants after doing some comparison shopping via Consumer Reports. I just know all the hard work and 9 months (that part's not a joke - we're going next March. Maybe May, but we'll see) of waiting and wondering will all be worth it. I can't wait to see who our little bundle will look like. (Probably neither of us, actually. Because we're going to Rwanda and I don't know if you've seen either Dawn or myself lately, but... we're both pretty much the color of freshly bathed sheep fleece.)
Dawn's already let people in on it, but I'm waiting to make my announcement in the only appropriate, expected, and socially acceptable way: on Facebook. I think I'll do that on my upcoming birthday. You know, in order to counteract the ugly and less-than-fun day it will be. (3 and 0 are just nasty looking little numbers, aren't they? Nothing good ever comes from odd numbers.) Yes. I've decided that's a pretty good plan. So, that means you all get to hear about our fun news before the 387 or so "friends" I've forgotten I have on Facebook! You lucky people.
All this to say, Dawn and I are beyond excited and still in shock that we both agreed to do the trip. The story of how it all came about is pretty cool (due to the fact that God's presence and power to change hearts was all over it), and maybe Dawn will put it in her own words since it all started with her. I'm overjoyed at the thought that I get to share this experience with Dawn. God's doing crazy, unexpected things in our lives and in our relationships with Him, I think. And that's how He makes life exciting for us.
Now. Onto fundraising.... (My anxiety over asking for money and how terribly weak and passive I am when I attempt to ask for financial assistance deserves a blog post all its own. I'm sure I'll be dry heaving as I send out my fundraising letter. But (sigh)...that's what comes with morning sickness, I guess.)
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