Music Minute: Katy Perry

Hello all,

Here's to this blog's first legit music corner. I will be focusing on the lovely and talented Katy Perry, Perez Hilton's seemingly nauseating protege and publicity whore. I don't want to like her, but I do! Can't help it!

Perry's been in music for a lot longer than most think. She never had a hit as a Christian Contemporary artist (kel suprese!), so she decided to do a career 180 and become a faux-lesbian (or is it a bisexual? or is it a drunk USC party whore? Whatevs) and release the rather catchy, Avril/Ashlee/Fiona hybrid that is "I Kissed a Girl." I saw the video for the first time last week, and I must admit I'm a little disappointed. Where's the girl on girl action? All she's doing is laying down, playing with a pillow, and dancing around with a bunch of women in the background (who are curiously rocking out to the tunes without interacting...). Katy Perry, here's some advice: if you're going to try and make a song about hooking up with a girl, hook up with a girl! And if you're adverse to a little tongue action, at least play a little grab-ass! Ugh!



You can catch the video here:

http://youtube.com/watch?v=tAp9BKosZXs

I wish I knew how to upload videos from youtube or something. I'm such a lameoid with technology.

I think the thing I like most about Katy Perry is that she has a sense of humor about herself. People who take her too seriously are squares. (Hint: peep the iTunes store and check out the comments made about her and her hit single. It's bizarre!)

Soon,
Fuego starter


<photo courtesy of google images>

Worst Fear Confirmed

I miss New York.


Fuck.

FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK.

I don't exactly know how to tell my parents that I'd like to go back. Now.

Maybe a visit would be enough to sustain my craving. Maybe I don't really want to be there permanently because, as I remember it, I wasn't all that happy. I mean, for a little bit I was...but not enough to warrant a permanent arrangement. Oy.

I'll just work on a visit.

Self-help

As I sat down with a friend for coffee yesterday, not to do hang-out, really, but to instead discuss her 17th round of relationship woes, I realized something fundamental to my unhappiness: I am too preoccupied with my friends' romantic trysts and relationships. I used to think it was because I was too afraid to invest in one of my own, but now I've gotten past that fear and am O-V-E-R dealing with other people's relationship issues. It seems that my entire life has become a one-way street. I'm tired of being the emotional punching bag and, conversely, the propelling agent of good faith. I'll say it as bluntly as I can, so as not to confuse anyone: I don't care about why "X" hasn't called you in 2 hours and I don't really care how that makes you feel. At this point, what's talking to me about it for the 80th time going to do? Relationships are difficult, no question; but if you're spending all of your time contemplating the one that you're in instead of enjoying it then, well, that says something. Right?

I think I'm just tired of being ignored emotionally. In recent evaulations, I've come to see that I tend to act as the healer in most of my friendships - that's not to say in ALL of them, thank god for the handful of you who actually think outside of yourselves - but in most of them, I do all of the listening. All of the helping. It's done and I'm tired of that routine.

So I won't. No longer will I burdened with the emotional baggage of my friends whose lives aren't really all that terrible. I just spoke with Courtney and a friend of hers died - to me, that seems way more severe than a friend calling me in hysterics over a boyfriend issue. People just can't learn to not sweat the small stuff. It's frustrating.

Tonight, I have to attend a screening for "House of Bunny" for the magazine. Rumor Willis, Katharine McPhee, Beverly D'Angelo (of Chevy Chase Vacation films), Ana Farris (of the Scary Movie franchise and Smileyface) are set to star. Ha, I'll enjoy writing this review.

We Rock!

A lot has happened in the world of entertainment, in the past few days. I'll break the major events down numerically, for your convenience.

1. Heidi Montag released a new single: Fashion. Rhythmically, it's a gem. Lyrically, not so much. Though I still appreciate her inadvertent shout out to Hedwig and The Angry Inch in how she tackles the vocals. It's delicious.

2. Camp Rock, the new Disney channel film, starring Jonas Brothers frontman Joe Jonas and Miley Cyrus impersonator #3, Demi Levato, came out. I watched it yesterday while weeping in my oatmeal. It was, in a word, lifechanging. And much better than High School Musical.

3. Jaime Lynn had the baby. It's a girl. Britney Spears is an AUNT. God, what I wouldn't give for B-Spears to be my Aunt. A lot, probably.

That's all for now. It's 11 and we worked a loooooong day today. We're ready for bed.

But before that, it's important to me, readers, that you check out my friend Charlie's blog: throwahandup.blogspot.com He's funny and updates regularly. He also knows a real life Joe Jonas. Need I say more?

<photo courtesy of google images & javagirl.org>

All my love, G

My entire freshman year of college was spent hating my friends who spent every single Saturday night at Misshapes, the once popular NYC hipster haven that housed the fashion priveleged and celebrities alike (Hilary Duff, Madonna, Dakota Fanning, Lindsay Lohan, Nicole Richie, the Olsens all made appearances on various Saturdays). The three boys whom I spent most of my time with (except for Saturday nights) were skinny, fashionable, and well-connected. I was none of those. Not until much later anyway (still not skinny, but working on that everyday). In any event, I always thought, from the way that they made it seem, I would never get in...so why try?

Fast-forward to September 2007: Misshapes was having its last party, its last Saturday get together for a long while. The fruitfly and I decided to bring a few friends and try to go anyway. We put some good outfits together, grabbed cash for a cab, and trekked to Don Hill's, Misshape's venue in SoHo. Who knew, the doorman remembered me from a previous party and called me a bitch.

I was let in immediately.

The famous white wall.

The party was a celebrity fuckfest: Agnyess Deyn, my favorite model of the moment, stood at the bar, clad in almost nothing, and smiled at hipster passerbys; the DJs (Geordon, Leigh, and whatshisface) didn't actually DJ that night - instead, they spent the night drinking at the VIP booth and getting their pictures taken. They're vile creatures.

Sharmaine, a friend, came to the event dressed as Al Sharpton. It was fantastic.

So it is truly an end of an era. Misshapes, through all of your faults, through all of your disgusting stereotypes and hangups, you will be missed. See you in Europe.

Agyness Deyn

Fruitfly

G

Leigh

<photos courtesy of Misshapes.com>

Beep, Beep.

I write to you, my faithful readers, in my office desperately awaiting the season premiere of Kathy Griffin's My Life on the D-List. I will post a substantial read tomorrow morning, assuming that I'm not out and about. I feel as though I've been neglecting this too much - don't worry, I'll make a concerted effort to change that.

Soon,

Firestarter

Back in Black

It's been a while, dear friends. Ever since my return from NYC, I haven't felt like myself and, thus, haven't felt the need to blog. I don't miss the city, I don't miss the people, I don't really miss anything at all right now. This always happens when I cross the continent - I get into a sort of existentialist funk. The past few days have been spent listening to Jennifer Hudson's new single, lunching with my mother, indulging in Dina Lohan's insanity, drinking cosmos (i know, how thoroughly disgusting of me) and flirting with the idea of forgoing my education entirely and moving down south, to Savannah. My days would be spent sitting on my porch, drinking mint julips, raping the old southern honey bee next door of all of her wisdom, and wading in creeks. To me, that sounds much more enlightening and worthwhile than rotting in a classroom all day.

I've become so bitter. My salvation is my job (thank you, US Weekly). My intern cohorts are incredibly savvy, incredibly sweet girls. My boss, Jenny, is a gem. I feel blessed to be working in an environment that I value.

I will be writing my first film review tomorrow, I think. I've been so boring lately, I haven't been seeing any movies or seeing any human beings. Note to [fabulous] self: don't become a hermit and answer phone calls.

For now, though, I'm enjoying my own company. I haven't been alone in a while, a long while, so it feels nice to just be...exactly that.

Alone.