why my mom loves tina turner

1) she's got a killer body. we all know that. i knew that when i was 12 and saw my mom's cassette tapes. there's something about a woman in fishnets and giant heels that is commanding - even when you're pre-pubescent. you have no idea what sex appeal means, or who the hell ike was, or what "love" has to do with ANYTHING, but whatever she has, you know it's different. it's sort of like the realization that you make when you're an adult (or teenager) that your "crazy" relative or family friend is actually a drunk.

2) music in adulthood is never as good as it was when you were a teenager. for my mom that means that michael bolton and tina turner are good, but never as great as those folk heroes that she grew up with. her and her sisters gather every christmas and harmonize to old favorites as my aunt strums her guitar.

for me, i don't think i had the good fortune of growing up in a time when truly great music was made (just check out the billboard top 100 from the mid-80's) but to me, music is 80% emotion, 20% greatness. growing up in a household where my dad managed rock bands, i certainly hold a great place in my heart to meatloaf (i knew all 3 parts to "paradise by the dashboard light" far before i could do long division). if i had heard that song for the first time today at a bar, i'd think it was absolute crap. i mean, that's a lyrically challenging - and equally terrible - song. but it will forever remind me of all the summers of my childhood that i spent traveling with his band. and that's completely different.

take most any boyband song from the early 90's. N'SYNC, backstreet boys, hell - even 5ive (AHEM - "baby when the lights go out") - and i love it. not because my heart swooned over lance bass or that kid howie with the creepy chinstrap beard, but because i think of all the car trips i took with my sister where we sang those songs at the top of our lungs. the lesser known "drive myself crazy" was a staple, mostly because we could sing the high part along with the bug-eyed dreaded dude, chris. "bye bye bye" and "baby hit me one more time" was an all-time classic staff water ballet routine at seminole pool. we each had a part, and we sure as hell weren't letting a few bug bites stop us from getting those steps right after hours. any britney song from "oops" should be played while wearing a pleather skirt and glittery top, as per how we drove to milwaukee and caught her show on a tuesday night with a handful of friends - without any parents. (i still cannot believe my mom okayed that.) even edwin "i'll be" mccain conjures up memories of driving through the mountains spring break senior year as my best friend reflected on her relationship.

high school also had the requisite "DMB" phase - the roadtrip to see dave one last time before impending "adulthood" in ohio, the mixes with zeppelin, and "tiny dancer" on our way to senior skip day. every white kid in the midwest has a marley phase (for me, i also had a bob marley poster freshman year of college that i almost dared my mom to rip off the wall while it was clinging to its poster putty).

now i'm only 3 years out of college and i'm already my mom. i have NO idea what the kids are listening these days. i'm forced to be the lame one in my group of teacher friends who have to explain the "superman" and "soldier boy" dances are. i sort of know the popular jonas bros' song ("burning up") and follow a fair amount of new bands thanks to my trendy friends, their musical ventures, and the latest and greatest that yahoo music has to offer, but no matter how hard i try i don't think any of it will ever erase my love for some of the old standbys. or increase my ability to once again regain any shred of "coolness" i once had. (or think i did.)

it's certainly not because the music was better, or that my taste has waned in my old(er) age, it's because it doesn't evoke nearly any of the same emotions. ben harper's "roses from my friends" can easily draw parallels to an adult breakup or falling out with a friend. sure i go through heartache and rough patches in friendships now, but i have ice cream and lifetime movies, and booze to fill that void. i can ride the subway aimlessly for hours, wander the town, do a billion different things to try to clear my head. if i'm feeling particularly proactive i can even exercise. as a teenager, all you're left with is your solitude and music to fill your sorrows and angst. my junior year of high school i think i listened to ben harper's "burn to shine" so much that i had to "re-burn" a copy from one of my friends. (making homemade cds was at the forefront of technology at the time.)

sure i love a handful of recently introduced-to-me-bands to the same degree, if not more than the classic songs of my childhood. at least musically or lyrically. but i really can't think of "mardy bum" in the same light as "wonderwall". i will love dave matthews no matter how many albums he puts out like "american baby". justin timberlake can become as big of a tool as he wants to, and i'll still have a soft spot for "it's gonna be me." really zeppelin can never do any wrong, and i think i'd be a fool to think that i'm the only one in the world who thinks that...actually - i take that back. robert plant collaborating with p. diddy (or 'puff daddy' at the time) for the godzilla song may have been literally "wrong". it was certainly against a few laws of nature and against most of the better judgement of anyone who believes VH1 should have maintained its integrity as a music channel pre-celebreality.

what i'm trying to say is simple. music can come and go, but the nostalgia will always be there. like my favorite cliche dave says, "it's not where you are but who you're with that really matters"

whether i'm 14 or 40, somehow i think part of me will always think that's true.

patience is a virtue

there's probably some sort of irony in publishing this, as the immediacy of posting it completely defeats the point i'm trying to make. but my overarching thesis is that i'm a work in progress, so i guess i'll claim it as a draw thus far - at least until the proverbial jury returns the verdict. 

i graduated college no more than 3 years ago. actually almost exactly 3 years ago. at the time, i had a skill for being ridiculously patient. it was certainly a learned skill - as a child i was bursting full of energy and unable to keep my mouth shut - and it was a hard-earned skill. one that i was proud of and used it to my advantage when plotting my move to ny and the subsequent job search that got me to where i'm at today. 

my other learned skill was my ability to listen. as a myers-briggs (and self-) identified "introvert" i considered it one of my greatest assets that i could spent days at a time without having to mention a single word about how something related to me or my life. if i did say something, it was after careful deliberation and what i would like to consider a very objective perspective. believe it or not, i won a leadership award in college, one that i wholeheartedly believe came from my ability to listen. it wasn't just that i was able to hear people, it was that i was able to focus my whole being on whatever was being said. i could tune out everything else - or listen to everything else but retain every fact, figure, or statement that was divulged. 

i made it a rule of thumb to never multitask when other's were speaking to me. on the phone, at school, work, the only multitasking i tried to consciously do was to walk and talk at the same time. other than that, i considered it a poor reflection on myself. 

maybe it's adulthood, maybe it's the crackberry age, maybe it's that my morals have been diluted since moving here, but i've lost that ability to be so patient. i try to continue to be a good listener  - though i unfortunately have picked up a mad case of multitasking. i can't say the multitasking can change, but i need to refocus my priorities.

i once did an icebreaker exercise where we were asked to write down the answers to 5 questions. the "takeaway" was that if a person writes down everything they need to say, they will listen better to others. lately as my listening abilities have been eroded with a mess of multitasking, i've tried to remember that exercise the best i can. 

the heart of the mission is to regain my patience. i don't just mean avoiding anger when a tourist cannot swipe their metrocard fast enough. i mean in that i don't let things play out how i used to. my laid back self has turned into a control freak. i have turned into my (lovely but neurotic) mother and worry about everything. i don't let the chips fall where they may. in 3 short years, i have effectively become the hyperactive soul i swore i would never become. 

don't get me wrong, i don't consider my soul wholeheartedly ruined. it least not with any irreparable damage. i just have come to realize lately that i need to take a step back. i think that it's effectively called a quarter-life crisis when this happens, but i'd like to consider it a re-evaluation. a re-assessment of priorities and choices, and most of all i need to re-establish my ability for patience. 

in the season finale of the office, michael is asked about why he didn't make a move on his "soulmate" holly:

'I didn't find the perfect moment because I think today is about just having today. And I think we're one of those couples who'll have a long story when people ask how we found each other. I will see her every now and then, and maybe one year she'll be with somebody and the next year I'll be with somebody and it's gonna take a long time... And then it's perfect. I'm in no rush.'

for me, it's not about my "soulmate". it's about avoiding that sense of rush. i feel like i've been in a rush for the past year or so and i'm finally realizing that there's no point. right now i'm a few months shy of 25. i'm hoping by the time i hit my quarter-century mark the rush will have waned. that doesn't mean i'm quitting my job or moving to some obscure island and writing my memoirs. i just need to approach my life, my friendships, and my choices with the knowledge that today isn't the end-all-be-all. obviously the first step is admitting it. now it's just a matter of accepting it. 

 

law and order

i don't own many movies because i rarely watch movies multiple times. especially without a friend prompting me to. as a kid i watched pippi longstocking and wizard of oz so much that my mom still can quote those movies from beginning to end. 20 years later, i don't share the same affinity to watch the movies over and over, but i have a serious problem when it comes to law and order. i can literally watch that show for days. it's been that way since i was a kid and i can't explain it. that show is like a drug. i know it affects millions of others in this way, and is a similar epidemic to diet coke addiction as a new wave "illness". still i really don't understand it. dc involves chemicals coursing through one's body. but law and order? wtf?  it doesn't have continuing storylines - half of them are reincarnations of each other - but i still watch it incessantly. i really think it's starting to hinder my ability to watch other tv shows. there are literally 10 shows that i want to pick up. instead of spending my viewing hours on those, i will hunker down for a l&o marathon - AND dvr episodes to watch when "nothing is on". am i crazy? "nothing is on"? i have 500+ channels. i am officially pathetic. i really should be concerned as to why reading isn't higher of a priority for me. or exercise for that matter. 

quarantined

i am 24 years and 6 months old. i have a full-time job, my own health insurance, pay the gas bill every month. i own 3 business suits, can legally purchase alcohol, and today i woke up with conjunctivitis. aka pinkeye. there's nothing more embarrassing than having to call out for work because you have the most common ailment on the playground. i called my mom to tell her; she laughed and reminded me not to rub my eyes. no shit, mom. thanks for the advice. i'd find it funny too if i didn't look like i've been marathon hot boxing with cheech and chong. my eyes were so painful and swollen that i couldn't even watch trashy tv today. the one good thing about being home from school/work is the movies/soaps without the constraints of bedtime. today i had to settle for listening to 'ellen' while under a warm compress. thanks to the wonders of modern medicine i am now finally able to connect with the world and catch a csi marathon or two. but it's just not the same. 

25 things

back in the old days, a friend would send a chain email with a list of 25 things to fill out about yourself: favorite colors, scariest moment, blah, blah, blah. usually none of the questions were particularly probing, but somehow they were always much more fun to fill out than doing trig homework or writing a research paper. now most things email related are old school - it's all about going "viral" and doing things via social networking. thus these lists have made their way onto facebook. 

i resisted these lists at first, much like i initially did with facebook itself, but last night gave in and filled it out. i assume most people spend a fair amount of time writing these lists, stewing about how certain elements of the list will portray their personalities. i chose the first 25 things that came to my mind that i felt didn't elicit any sort of strong emotional response from anyone who's reading it. why? isn't that the point? not really. and i think sometimes people forget that.

facebook shouldn't replace friendships with close pals. it's about keeping track of people, having a place to connect on a social level, and about having a marketplace for information and an easy way to share it. i don't want everyone i went to high school with, plus 1/2 of my coworkers knowing my deepest, darkest secrets. i understand that some people use it as an outlet to share that information, but that's not me at all. and it frightens me that some people use it as a tool to bare their souls. even on this blog i'm careful to make sure nothing posted goes beyond anything i would say to someone's face, or have to answer to on a job interview. it's not a journal - it's a way for me to post stories that i think are appropriate for the general public to know. granted i probably have bared more than the usual person with some of my stories, but there's nothing in here that i wouldn't tell my grandma. (seriously, that's my barometer for posting.) i guess that puts me as a part of the paranoid generation who is not ok with having their whole lives posted on the internet. but some things should be kept personal. knowing more about a person is earned through honest connection: face-to-face or on a one-to-one level. not a status message. once again i suppose i'm climbing high on my soapbox, but i really hope this social networking trend fades out soon. i enjoy facebook as much as the next person, but when are people going to want to go back to coffee hangouts? 

cracked out

i've officially entered the world of crackberries. it was a long process to come to this point. i've always liked tech toys - i had a palm pilot back in the day - but i could never bring myself to admit that i needed a full-fledged electronic phone/email/organizer to make my life easier. until now. i used to make fun of the people on the subway typing away at their teeny keyboards. i have now joined the cult. at least it was on my own terms - and i didn't have to go down kicking and screaming. i've been asked more than once why i didn't get an iPhone. the truth is, i don't trust myself with it. all i would do is sit around and play with it. with the bberry there are limitations to the fun. i know myself too well and know i need boundaries. and a little bit of guidance to throw myself into maturity. the last thing i need is another toy to distract me from sleep. 

kendra: the worst media buyer in the world

the economy is tight, people on madison are losing their jobs left and right. yet one brilliant media buyer decided she should post her lack of integrity on the job in the Auseillo files. it's a section on ew.com where people can write in questions:

Question: I am a Media Buyer and, as God as my witness, Friday Night Lights will be renewed again. I am recruiting the buyers in my office to watch and purchase it. Best show on TV - Kendra. 

Ausiello: Fight the heck on, Kendra. Don't miss tonight's penultimate season 3 ep, which features (skip to the last sentence of this answer, no DirecTV subscribers!) the long-awaited Tyra/Landry reunion, as well as a nail-biter of a state championship game. Programming note: FNL's NBC run kicks off on Friday, Jan 16. 

1) that's not a question.

2) what an idiot. 

the test

today i went to home depot. this was particularly ambitious because: 1) this is peak tourist season in NY and therefore impossible to do any mundane task without coming face-to-face with a hundred people on the street taking pictures; and 2) i had just gone to the eye doctor and my eyes were completely dilated. i could see 15 feet in front of me, but struggled to read anything within an arms length. 

i had a mission at home depot. besides the double-sided tape to mount my spice rack (true story) and a random assortment of incidentals, i was in need of a few bookshelves for my apt. nothing fancy, just something to hold the 6 boxes worth of books i've had stacked in my kitchen since i moved. 

so here i am in the basement of home depot in the middle of manhattan. there are probably 5 workers for every square foot of store, but they each are relegated to a section. they can move freely between areas if they are escorting a customer, but beyond that they stick to their borders. once i found the bookcases, i felt that i had really scored. my orange vested saviour (brandon) was standing no less than five feet away from my desired purchases. brandon was talking to another customer, so i gave him a little wave and a head nod to show him i'd like him to swing by when he was done. i know he saw this, because he nodded back, much like a bartender nods when they non-verbally promise to come back momentarily to get your next round. i wait around for another 4 minutes before i start to get antsy. i begin to eavesdrop on brandon's conversation with said "customer" and realize that this dude is not even looking to purchase anything and the two of them are engaged in a blatant pick-up situation. they are chatting about exhibits at the Frick and grad school, not bookshelves or hinges, or even power drill mechanics. i give brandon another nod, but this time he averts eye-contact. i start to walk towards him, but he turns the other way. this is when i begin the test. in an unmedicated state, i probably would have just gone and complained or pulled him away from his potential date, but my temporary blindness was clouding my judgement. 

test #1 - the lap. i stare intently at the items i want, pace around for a bit, read the contents of the boxes, and make it obvious that i'm perusing the items in his area. i then exit the aisle, circle back through another aisle and come back around to the same spot i was in. this was no doubt a majorly passive aggressive move, but if i were to make a media analogy to this, i was trying to work the frequency angle.  

test #2 - the substitute. i walk away from the items and attempt to flag down another orange vest. miraculously it takes me a good 3 aisles before i find another vest. well it turns out that this vest is assigned to another dept. i accompany him to drop off a cart to brandon; then he leaves us, assuming that brando will be so kind to help me out. brandon looks up at me, glances at the cart, and then continues chatting away.

test #2 - the weak girl. i'm not particularly strong these days - it's been at least 5 months since i've hit the gym. i'm still not back to my normal weight pre-gallbladder, and don't look like i could lift a ton of weight. that said, most normal employees go out of their way to make sure customers don't have to lift heavy objects. especially when the customer is a female. also, i wasn't wearing sweatpants, which usually earns me a fair amount of brownie points when asking for assistance in a store. despite my nods, and even a verbal plea for help, it's apparent that brandon isn't going to help me. from there, i take the cart and bring it over to the shelving with the boxes of the bookshelves. really truly at this point i would have thought brandon would have stepped in - even if i were a dude and he was in the middle of helping someone (which he wasn't). keep in mind my eyes are still dilated - actually getting worse - and somehow lifting objects seems like a great idea to me. i slide one of the 35 lb bookshelves off of the second shelf. after two attempts of wobbly swinging around the awkward box (the weight was distributed oddly so that one side was way heavier than the other) i manage to drop it into the cart. i swing the cart around past brando and his future boy toy, thank him for all of his help, and proceed to checkout. 

now i can't say i was completely right in this situation - i was messing up his game after all - but jesus. this was not a matter of waiting my turn. for the record, i don't recommend following my testing techniques. nor do i suggest doing any heavy lifting while experiencing impaired vision. i suppose it serves me right for disrupting the opthamological gods. 

BUSted

when i lived in minneapolis i took the bus every day. i had a car with me for the better part of my collegiate career, but the price of gas and incidentals encouraged me to take public transportation when the distance of my destination was greater than walking to the west bank of our campus.

during my year-long stint as an intern at an ad agency in st. paul, i took the 16 route to and from work every mon, wed, and fri. in retrospect, this was excellent preparation for my current relationship with public transportation. here in nyc, most everyone is at the mercy of the MTA. (with the exception of the park slope stroller moms who drive their suv's into the city and are using their clout to block the city's proposals for toll fees at the entrances into the city.) from lindsay lohan to beyonce, the nyc subway is the great equalizer of the five boroughs. the buses here however, are a completely different story. especially when it comes to interstate traveling.

for every nearby destination, there is an ill-organized bus service to ferry young professionals (or collegiate-age persons). these vessels' popularity peaks around any holiday that involves a day off from work/school. while immensely cheap and usually easy to use, these services are not for anyone who needs to be ANYWHERE in any reasonable span of time. a new rider can easily be spotted thanks to the "reservation" slip they wave at the workers while trying to argue their way onto an overcrowded bus. "but i have a reservation on the 3:30!!" you can hear them shout as they are shown to the back of the line. for the next hour, you can usually hear the newbies on the phone with their parents, whining about how they are never riding the bus again because it's causing them to miss ______. i highly doubt that any of these kids actually make good on their promises, because each and everytime i ride the bus over thanksgiving i see one of these said individuals, now joining me in my fascination with the rookie experience.

these buses must be oozing cash, literally leaving a path of benjamins as they head down the new jersey turnpike. each bus is filled to capacity with people under 30 (with an occasional woman from queens going on her annual trip to see her daughter in DC) who each pay in cash for their way to our nation's capital (or another high-traffic area on the greater east coast).

quite honestly, for a $25 trip, i really don't expect much. i've gotten to the stage of being a new yorker where i no longer feel a sense of empathy towards the rookies of the bus service. it's probably sad that part of my soul has been ripped away by the MTA screwing with any semblance of timeliness in my life, but at this point it's these little things that cause me from going mad when i am stuck between the vernon jackson and court square stops and missing the start of my 9am meeting. when it comes to the choice between being chauffered by public transit on a daily basis or having to scrape my windshield while blasting the defroster in the throws of december, i'll wait in line for the bus, thank you very much.

'tis the season

i have a friend whose golden rule is both a blessing and a curse: thou shall not say no to social engagements. she will hit a bar mitzvah in the morning, a baby shower at noon, then a bachelorette party in the evening. somewhere in between she'll probably find time to get a manicure or book a trip to florida. this woman cannot find a free evening 2 months ahead of time. she is not the first of my friends to follow this ideology, but she very well could be the one who gets screwed over by it most routinely. this week's turn of events is worth repeating.

my friend is quickly approaching her wedding anniversary. the exact details of the planned events were not divulged to me, but they're pretty irrelevant for this tale. let's say that they intended to spend the night with a quiet dinner, lots of wine, and no set plans. that's what my ideal anniversary would entail, though my night would also include heather grey sweatpants and snack foods. what they planned to do really doesn't matter, because the said anniversary plans were put on the skids by her well-intentioned but ill-timed sister-in-law. good 'ole SIL planned a birthday party smack on top of the no set planned-anniversary. for some, this would just mean that you tell SIL tough shit and that you'll see her next time. but golden rule or no golden rule, no compassionate person can deny the invite when there are nieces and nephews in the mix. so the heather grey celebration was put on hiatus for the little tike's bday party. (for the record - that also means a gift must be purchased.)

my friend is resourceful, and instead of making a big deal about this, she and her husband just moved their plans (or lack thereof) to the next weekend. BAM. SIL strikes again. this time with a family christmas potluck. now there's cooking involved in the list of mandatories. oh, but don't worry - there's gifts for everyone! not only is it a christmas gathering, there will be a secret santa exchange. the typical white elephant gifts are out the window - this is a $25 secret santa gift. i can only speak for myself on this one, but few of us are in a high enough tax bracket to afford anything beyond the $10 standard. (my all-time personal favorite from a gift exchange was the $9.99 toaster one of my friends found at walgreen's on the way to the madison west leo club 2000 holiday party.) regardless of income status however, we all know that it's the thought that counts. for this very reason, the exorbitant amount of dollars required for the gift minimum was secondary to the anticipated gratitude that my friend was sure her gift recipient would feel upon opening her gift. she imagined her nephew gleefully unwrapping his much desired bob dylan bootleg collection, ensuring her spot as the second favorite extended relative (close behind uncle jim who cemented that position eternally by purchasing the young nephew a rubber band gun for his 8th birthday).

at this juncture in her life though, #2 will remain out of her reach indefinitely. this morning my friend got her secret santee in the mail. it's becky. you know - becky - the realtor. that's right, the realtor was invited to the family christmas gathering.

my friend is now double booked with the little tikes bday extravaganza (i can only guess there will be magic tricks and/or a clown) and a special holiday evening spreading cheer to the century 21 sales leader of oct 2007 in lieu of the quiet anniversary. i guess i know at least one person who won't be getting coal in her stocking this year.