Mean Girls

Tonight we laid on the sofa and watched Mean Girls on DVD. 

I was particularly impressed with the "Jingle Bell Rock" winter talent show scene. In case you forgot it, here it is: 

Now, it's no secret that I'm a huge Lilo fan, but watching this movie with Neesh -- the first time I got to see it with sound -- made me wish I could go back in time to before Lilo was a total train wreck and alter her future somehow. When she busts into "Jingle Bell Rock" a capella and saves the act, I knew two things: that my heart was breaking into bits and that I was going to blog about it later.

Lindsay, if you're reading this, my fiancee and I love you. You were great in Mean Girls, and I don't even know what you were doing in A Prairie Home Companion, but you weren't bad in that, either. Be honest with yourself this Christmas. You love Samro but you aren't in love with her. Thanks for accepting my Myspace friend request. Oh, and dye your hair red again because it was cute red.

Mean Girls is a great film. Reminds me of Tate Hall. 

(That's where we work)

Now, on with the countdown. 

#22

Neesha's Pick: "Grandma Got Ran Over by a Reindeer"

Her Reason: "The lyrics speak for themselves on this one. It should have been #25.

Dustin's Pick: Trans-Siberian Orchestra's "Carol of the Bells"

His Reason: "Maybe it's because my heart is so full of Christmas cheer that I don't even care that Trans-Siberian Orchestra's bell carol is pretentious schlock. Or maybe it's because I don't have to worry about Trans-Siberian Orchestra transforming other holiday's songs into guitar mashes and I therefore only have to hear them for about three weeks, and only on this one song. Because of that, they're kind of neat, like Me First and the Gimme Gimmes, or Dynamite Hack, or Hayseed Dixie. Their one trick is taking one kind of song and remaking it so ironically and obnoxiously that it kind of seems good somehow. 

I don't know. I drum my fingers to this when it comes on the radio.  It's like Golden Corral. A musical feeding trough. 

I don't want to like it but I do. 

Letter to my Missing Student

Dear Missing Student,

The class and I have begun to worry. For a time, you were our shining beacon of attendance. You sat in the front row and didn't mind that I knew your boss and could easily keep tabs on you based on this piece of information (but never did). Most of the semester passed and we came to expect you in the front of the room. We came to rely on your unmistakable signature cologne-The Day After Drunk with that touch of the most fashionable drink from the previous night. Where did you go, oh-student-we-called-by-both-first-and-last-name?

More importantly, what did we do? Was it my request that you do more with your introductory paragraph than simply state the thesis? Did I offend thee when I asked for supporting sentences in your paragraphs? Or when I asked you to write more than a page for your first draft? More than that, student in absentia, you came for all the fun activities: the peer reviews, the candy activity, then you were gone. You left us with a hint of what your research paper would be on, then disappeared without word. No card, no email, no proposal or outline on "Why Marijuana Should be Legalized" or your second pick "Changing the Drinking Age to 18." I don't understand what happened. I thought we had mutually decided to end the semester with a grade rather than a "W." 

In conclusion, we are worried about you. Not in the "intervention" sort of way, but in the "are you alive, dear student?" sort of way. No one knows where you are or what happened to you. You have simply disappeared.

Please send word soon or I will be forced to send a spy to your place of work to be certain you are still alive. Seriously. I'm worried.

Sincerely,

Your English 1000 Teacher

PS-If you are lost, send word and a search party of peer editors will be sent to your aid.

We can hardly stand the wait

We're back for round two or, I should say, song number 23 on the Christmas Song Countdown!

Since I am going from mentionable but unliked songs, I will go ahead and say that number 23 was not a difficult pick. In fact, it's not exactly just one song, either, but an entire album.

# 23 on the countdown is the entire Chipmunks Greatest Christmas Hits album. That's right. All of em. Every one of em with special emphasis on "The Chipmunk Song" and "All I Want for Christmas is my Two Front Teeth."

I'm going to take this time to elaborate on why, precisely, I hate it: 

1-The Chipmunks are about as cool as the California Raisins no matter what songs they sing in or what season they sing it in. They have no business dancing around and singing. We eat raisins, who wants to imagine they're recreating showtunes or putting on musicals in your stomach or on their way down to your digestive system? With Chipmunks I find myself wondering-what do they even do? What is their purpose in life? Really, Chipmunks are glorified squirrels and when I think of squirrels around the holidays, I think of that scene from National Lampoon's Christmas where the chipmunk jumps out of the newly chopped Christmas tree and runs rampant through the house ruining Christmas Eve. This begs the question, if that chipmunk came complete with a drummer, guitarist and a bit of vocalized melody and harmony, would the Griswolds have been ok with their dinner ending up on the floor? Something tells me those Griswolds switch the radio station when Alvin, Simon and Theodore take to the airwaves. I do it, too. Who can blame them?

2. They have high pitched, computer-stylized voices that drive me up a wall. It's like they taught chalkboards how to harmonize when they're scratched, then taped it and called it "The Chipmunks."

3. I hate Dave. (This is particular to the Chipmunk Christmas song when he's yelling for Alvin to come join the group and finally screams, "Aalviiiiiiiiiiiiiin!"-picture a cartoon-close-up of the inside of his mouth, focusing on the tonsil that wiggles around as he screams for the elusive chipmunk). I've always thought he was a huge loser. Nowadays, his stereotypical character has been recreated in other shows: the single, musician father, raising his three, ahem, Chipmunks (in this case). Case in point: Rufus Humphrey from Gossip Girl-he's got two kids, both of which he has a fabulous relationship with and he's raising them on his own. One of his kids, Lil J, is sort of turning into a nightmare (think: Alvin the tween, real life, slightly mod-glam version. Oh, and female!). While Dave was the prototype for this kind of father, he was a weak, underdeveloped one and he yelled entirely too much for my liking. He was always being thwarted, too, and deceived. He was such a fool and even as a kid I thought he was an idiot. Plus, who thinks it's a good idea to make a rock band out of chipmunks? No one!

Otherwise, I just don't like the hokiness of the songs. I'm not sure how else to explain it besides hokey, really. I have strong feelings against the Chipmunks singing-not so much when I see them on a t-shirt, but when they're animated with lifelike motions, I tend to feel a bit indignant and want to sick my dogs on them. No Alvin and the Chipmunks in this house. Christmas would be a happier season without those rodent-half-breeds.

On that note, I'll leave you with my more chipper half :)

Dustin's Pick: "25th December"

His Reason: "Here's a pretty decent but poorly titled Christmas song by Everything But the Girl, a band with a hard time coming up with good song titles and band names. 

One has to do a bit of Jeopardy!-type thinking to speculate on how they named themselves that. Perhaps, before practice one day in the garage, the band members were playing that desert island game, and one guy was like, "What would you want to have on your desert island, dude?" And the other guy's like, "Everything but the girl. She's always telling me I should, like, you know, go to college, or try to get a job, or take a shower ... whatever." And the first guy's like, "I got it! We'll call our band that!"

Or maybe during a band member's coke intervention, one guy was like, "Chrissakes. What else can you snort up that powdery snozz of yours?" 

And seconds later, joila! Everything But the Girl was named.

"25th December" has a nostalgic narrator who wistfully glances back from the plateau of early mid-life and wonders how things got how they are, as I sort of find myself doing sometimes. It's sad, gosh darnit, but it's also hopeful. Dude's reconciling with his past, admitting to himself that there were important things he did not know, things he forgot to appreciate. But he's aware of a changeable future. It's A Christmas Carol again. You guys know how I feel about that story. 

Gets me every time. 

Orr Street Hunger

Last night, we went to Orr Street Studios to hear Allyson Miller and Liz Langenmak (my dearly beloved Columbia bridesmaid-represent!) read. I haven't been to Orr since Fi and I read there nearly two years ago (could it seriously be that long!?!). What a strange time that was! Here is a photo I dug up from that reading. I think it took place in May 2006, perhaps? Does that sound right, Fi?

At any rate, they have drastically changed things in Orr Street Studios since then. The entire background of this photo of me is now covered in artwork. The giant garage door is no longer a door, but a whole open passageway to a series of rooms that I went down in search of the bathroom (to no avail). Where I am sitting is actually where the entire audience and readers now sit. The readers face the wall behind me while the audience faces to my right. That spindle table was nowhere in sight and neither was the woman who spoke to Dustin and I about her poetry after the reading. (She had an office, so I assumed she worked there-in the studio-or something!)

Anyhow, needless to say: Liz and Allyson rocked! I love the way poets conjure up words and fit the unlikely pieces together to make something sound beautiful even if, ordinarily on its own, it wouldn't. Liz reads like a pro, I should mention. Not even the vaguest hint of the dry mouth that overtakes me when I attempt to read. I hate reading. Just one of the many perks of being a writer :) And when I return home, I will post pics of them reading so you don't have to imagine it. Plus, then you can see for yourself just how much this little studio has grown! I'm so proud of it. It's like the 'little studio that could!' I had my reservations about it at first, when we read there, and wondered if it'd be much like some of our local places that crash and burn under a year after opening...but, alas, this one has proved me wrong! Congratulations and continued success, Orr Street! You know they've made it big when they become a venue for the unmatchable Miller-Langenmak duo.

The downside to last night is that I felt really crappy. I suppose that loooooooooong trip back in the car didn't help the cold, not to mention I completely forgot to take the antibiotic I'm supposed to be taking to battle this cold, flu...whatever it is...for the last two days. I need to remember to do so upon returning home today. Being hungry and tired (since I did not obtain as much sleep as I should've the night I returned home), put me in a terrible mood. Poor Dustin didn't know what to make of it. I felt all lethargic and growly-both my stomach and my mood. I only perked up after eating some cheese and making a definite plan to eat food following the reading. Who knew the Monster of Starvation would come thrashing out out of nowhere!? That usually doesn't happen to me. I think it was the combo of hunger and sleep-deprivation. Anyhow, thank God for Flatbranch! We also had the pleasure of meeting Angela R's beau (is that how you spell that?) who was a sweetheart! Hope to see more of him!

As Fi mentioned, I am going to continue listing the songs I hate first of the Christmas ones. The noteworthy ones I feel need to be addressed, that is. I already know what my pick is for tonight, but have to wait for Fi to chime in, as well.

About the Christmas choice for the songs list yesterday. I do not like that stupid song about the whole year being a melodramatic breakdown for the girl who keeps forgetting shit like her cranberry sauce. She's been chasing some guy and then they have a "Christmas spirit" moment. Wake up, honey! Christmas is not about finally entrapping a guy you'd been half-assedly chasing all year, then bonding with him over canned cranberry sauce and a 7-11 Turkey for Two.

Last night's, just to clarify, had more to do with the desperation of the singer/narrator than anything. Tonight's, however, is an entire album! Just you wait!

More news on the desire to have a "Christmas ball" or gala later.

xoxo
N

Congrats, Allyson and Liz! You guys were awesome!

There's been steady debate at our home/animal habitat regarding our 25 Days of Christmas song blog project.

Neesha wants to proceed from least favorite to most favorite each day until Christmas. She doesn't think she can come up with enough Christmas songs she likes. 

I say we should list all the horrible Christmas songs at once up front, get it all out of our system, and do ones we like from then on -- one a day -- because I can think of at least 10 atrocious Christmas songs right now off the top of my head without even trying. That's in addition to the awful Paul McCartney one I used yesterday, "Wonderful Christmastime," which I maintain is totally bad and could not possibly have been recorded in more than a single take. 

But I'm not here to rag on "Wonderful Christmastime." I'm here to say I think we should make our least favorite Christmas song list separate. Because it's a long, long climb from the God-awful "Christmas Shoes," so ridiculous and awful that it makes "Wonderful Christmastime" sound like "Hey Jude" ... so long a climb that I'm afraid it would take until St. Paddy's Day to reach the lip of the musical crap canyon. 

That's my two cents, anyway. Until further notice, I'm only picking good Christmas songs from here on out. 

Now, on with the countdown.

#24

Dustin's Pick: Every song in The Muppet Christmas Carol except for "When Love is Gone." 

Dustin's Reason: "There's a moment in Muppet Christmas Carol when Statler and Waldorf -- the Marley brothers in the film -- advise Michael Caine's Scrooge to 'leave comedy to the bears.' I'll add to that by advising him to leave singing to the frogs. His inexplicable duet during the blitzkrieg of his past Christmases is catastrophic on an array of levels, and it represents the only point at which the film sags. Why is he harmonizing with his unrequited love? Isn't his failure to achieve harmony with his past the engine driving his last-minute redemption? Doesn't fit. And besides, when the variations on a theme outshine the theme, something's seriously not working.  

That said, there are some genuine Christmas gems tucked into this movie. Among them, the opening number, 'Scrooge.'

Also good and Muppety is the Ghost of Christmas Present's song, "It Feels Like Christmas."

I won't go to the mat for just anything, but Muppet Christmas Carol, yes. I'm pretty sure when I cried during Tiny Tim's "Bless Us One and All" when my high school girlfriend and I rented it, that was the beginning of the end for our relationship. I'll have you know, though, that I watched this on Thanksgiving, and I cried then, just like I've cried EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. 

EVER. 

Neesha's Pick: "Christmas Wrapping"

Her Reason: "It doesn't have a very good narrative thread. And it's dumb."

(Pretty sure this isn't the real video, but the insipid tune should be familiar)

Hollow to Hem

Someone should've told me how cold it is in MO and I would've kept my ass in the south! I was stunned to see a dusting of snow when I came into three hours' distance of Columbia, but utterly shocked when it came thrashing down on my car in most of the states I passed through yesterday on my way home.

But home I arrived and Mom informed me my wedding gown cannot be ordered until they have my "hollow to hem" measurement. I like the sound of that...hollow to hem almost as much as I like the use of italics. I bet you wouldn't have guessed that about me, given my penchant for emboldening words and phrases in my blogs, but I really really dig italics and try to reserve them. After I got off the phone with Connie and assuring her I'd find someone who could accurately measure my "hollow to hem," I found myself seeking out other usages for this phrase. What else can I use "hollow to hem" to describe? Any ideas?

What if I used it in lieu of the word "blessings?" For example, "Don't count your hollow to hem too soon!" Or if it could be used instead of "to and fro" or some other sort of phrase that means that. For example: "I've been running from hollows to hems all day trying to find this Christmas gift for my brother..." Any other creative uses for my new favorite phrase???

So I'm home and the house is taking on a festive Christmas atmosphere, albeit it a little crowded round the living room corners, but nothing that can't be switched up a bit. Birds happily chirped me awake, Bogey and Byz were thrilled to be free from their car-prison and I was bursting with joy at being reacquainted with my Fi. 

This morning, I read a book, unpacked the car and caught up on some blogs. Within moments, I will be putting my students' grades into Blackboard so they can stop hounding me about them and then I will try to find last night's episode of Gossip Girl to watch. I told Dustin Bart Bass was going to die. This meant little to him since he wasn't positive as to who, precisely, Bart Bass was...but he's a good sport and checked out my suspicions online after the show and confirmed them. Whew! Thank God for Dustin!

Lastly, before we lengthen our 25 Songs of Christmas List, I just wanted to clarify. I do thoroughly dislike that song "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus" for multiple reasons.

1-It seems dirty to imagine "Santa" kissing anyone outside of his jolly Mrs. Claus counterpart-which means she'd have to be red-faced, squinty-laughter eyed, round, grey, short and dressed in red. No Mommy looks like that.

2. I do NOT like how it takes children's intelligence for granted. This image of mommy kissing Santa leaves only a few options-either Mommy is cheating on Daddy with Santa Claus (dirty!!!) or Daddy is dressed up like Santa and that's why Mommy is playing tonsil hockey with him by the Christmas tree while the kids are upstairs supposedly sleeping.

Doesn't that just live a very UN-Christmasy feeling in your heart? It's enough to dredge up the cool black heart of a certain Mr. Grinch that may make an appearance somewhere down the line in our Top 25 Countdown.

For the next installment in our list, tune in later today! Until then, it's good to be home and I hope you all had a fabulous Thanksgiving break. Remember, 24 days 'til Christmas so you better starting counting your hollows to hems.

xoxo

N

Right now, Neesha is roaring across the frostbitten landscape, and these two are watching to make sure she keeps both hands on the wheel.

Or at least Bogey, the squirrel-from-Ice Age-looking white one, is watching Neesha. Byzantia is holding her head up, but in her mind ... well, OK. Go turn on your TV and tune it to a channel that only gets static snow, crank up the volume as loud as it will go, stare at a point on the wall without blinking until your eyes burn, and hum Hall and Oates's "You Make My Dreams Come True," and that's the Bizzy mind, more or less.

She's my favorite. More docile. Like a brontosaurus. Brain like a walnut.

This is it, folks -- our big 25 Days o' Christmas Countdown! Neesha had a good idea earlier where we'll each post a song every day until Christmas, from least favorite to awesomest Christmas song ever. Get excited!

#25

Neesha's pick: "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus."
Her reason: "I hate that song."

Dustin's song: "Wonderful Christmastime"
His reason: "It's like someone took my old Yamaha keyboard and synthesizer back in time to Paul McCartney's 1979 Christmas party, plugged it in, and said, "Uh, I don't really know how to play any songs, but the echo on this baby is wicked! Freestyle! Freestyle!"

And Paul McCartney, for lack of anything better to do in 1979, was like, "OK."