Not Just For Your Teeth Anymore

I expected the topic of anal bleaching to disappear from my brain cavity a few months ago. When initially I heard of it, I dismissed it as an urban legend. Then, a friend from California came to visit, shattered my illusion and verified the existence of such a practice in the real world (or at least in California.) Verbally verified, of course. Today, I was again faced with the reality of such a practice while reading The WOW Report.
Now, seriously folks, have you ever had a time in your life when you thought, "Is there any way of making my anus more pink or lighter in color? Mine is dark and I hate it." First of all, when is the last time you REALLY inspected your winkie? Your significant other spending a lot of time down there? No, forget it, I don't want to know. At any rate, being married to a medical professional, I hear it ALL...and believe me, they joke about everything (anonymously, of course) regarding the oddities of the human form. He often recovers people who have been subjected to colonoscopies. Never in my life has he come home to say, "Boy, you should have seen how BROWN this @$$hole was today!!"

According to Crappers Quarterly,which is a real online publication, "They use a special cream, combined with a full waxing treatment to achieve optimal results. The cream is concentrated and works 'with' the body (dark area) not 'at' it. It absorbs and penetrates into the skin and lightens from the inside out-slowly, but steadily." (Can you tell I did my research?)

I can only surmise that this is something the Brokeback fellas are into. Them, and porn stars. I just wonder how Crest is going to create a marketing campaign for their "new" Whitestrips.

Random Thanks

Nothing real big going on today, except for the usual "back to work" routine and the child's ballgame this evening. So, in order to re-establish much-needed karma, here are today's things I am thankful for:

1. Having a husband who doesn't mind cooking fantastic meals, two nights in a row.
2. Having a 12-year old who hasn't uttered the words, "I hate you." Yet.
3. Knowing that sitting around all weekend, watching movies, is an approved activity at my home.
4. Enjoying a Tuesday-that's-really-a-Monday at work that is quiet and calm.
5. Having a nail-stylist in a small town who can successfully make my hands look as if they belong to a porn star.

Sad...But True

As you may have noticed, I try not to get "too" political in this space, but I just couldn't help posting this (thanks, Mugsy). As I have several friends in the National Guard, it makes my heart heavy when I realize all that is asked of them. The National Guard didn't use to be our primary military force. I know they are tough and willing...but...oh, I'll just shut up now and let the image do my talking.

Orgasmic Idol

HE DID IT!! And yes, I'm proud of him. Unfortunately, the finale of Idol was a bit painful, especially since I had a pretty good idea of who the winner would be going in. But having to suffer through two hours of variety-show-style performances led to several eye-rolling moments. First off, why the heck did they allow Meatloaf on stage? He wouldn't have made it past the first round of auditions!! He also looked quite shocked that Katharine McPhee got a bigger reaction from the audience. Much as I hate the camera-mugging Kat, she did shine next to the wavering, slobbering fat bastard she was paired with. And someone please tell me, what exactly IS Clay Aiken? I haven't figured that one out yet - and I'm glad I missed that season of Idol.

Mary J. Blige shouldn't have relegated Elliott Yamin to background singer - he was definitely holding his own, sounding more confident and relaxed than he had all season. I look for him to get a big record deal and free dental work. And Momma Yamin couldn't have been more proud.

The Pickler Schtick was back, as annoying as ever. Did anyone else hear her "drop" the accent for a bit there? Barf. Another note: I couldn't figure out in Simon's montage if he was highly sexual with all the self-stroking, or just narcissistic.

Listening to the group of girls/boys perform, I agree with something Simon said earlier in the season: it was the boys' competition to lose. They sounded much tighter than the girls - and evidently possess more talent.

Chris and the lead singer from "Live" looked like brothers - and I felt as if Ed Kowalczyk spent most of his time trying to distinguish himself from Chris, as Daughtry looked on admirably.

Most uncomfortable moment? Besides the obviously deranged Clay Aiken wannabe having a seizure onstage (and having to be put in his cage by Ryan Seacrest), was Taylor's performance with Toni Braxton. She was gyrating all over, sexing up a song about the ghetto? At one point, she nuzzled up to Taylor and attempted to wrap his hand around her waist and rub it against her bod. Thankfully, Taylor didn't take the bait and caress the hornilicious, mumbling (and maybe drunk?) Braxton, but kept his cool as Fox cut away from the shot. He outsang her, too.
All in all, too lengthy of a show, but DAMN! They saved the best for last, as surprise guest Prince hit the stage! And thank goodness they didn't make him sing with an Idol contestant - he rocked the joint like no one else! Here is a link to check out the Purple Man's performance, in case you missed the best part of the show (thanks Mr. Big). Little too much makeup, but he proved (as always) that he reigns supreme. And yes, this moment led me to title this post as such. Can you tell I'm a major Prince fan?

I'm so glad that America voted for Taylor Hicks instead of Miss Priss-Face. Don't worry, she'll end up on Broadway and have a successful career. But as Taylor said, he's the one living the American Dream.

Is It HIM?

Could it be? This is the very first season that I have watched American Idol. Obsessively. With the same obsession that I watched the very first season of Survivor, or that season of the Real World where everyone got naked and drunk in Hawaii. I have not been disappointed, b/c the man who caught my eye as unique has made it all the way to the TOP TWO. If you wonder why I never caught on to the Idol craze before now, it is b/c I thought the competition sought to crown a perfect little pop-princess-diva, or a sexy-sultry-rocker - thereby creating another packaged commercial bore that would assault the airwaves with mediocrity. I came to this show with a healthy dose of skepticism, to say the least.

As a classically-trained musician who is also married to a musician and counts another musician as a best friend, you can imagine that I am a harsh Idol critic. Early in the competition, the only one I was really cheering for was Simon. But Taylor Hicks? Different. Real. What made me root for him? Not so much what I heard from his lips, but what was emanating from his soul. Music lives inside him. Whether or not he is the most talented singer in the competition is surely up for debate, but I don't think you could find anyone who breathes music more. And to be honest, I'm surprised that he made it this far.

Is it possible that America is also tired of the package that the music industry tries to sell us? That America is ready for someone who is a little rough around the edges, but truly FEELS music, deep inside? Can they stomach the moves of a man possessed by his muse? Let's hope. For Taylor Hicks, tonight, goes up against his antithesis. A girl who has been groomed for this her entire life - who spends more time trying to seduce the camera than remembering lyrics. She's already got the gay vote, which tells you she's ready for Broadway. I am not a Katharine-hater, but she's what I hate about Idol.

I hope it happens, and that America votes for an underdog. I hope Taylor sings well tonight, and doesn't ruin his chances with a bad performance. I will be voting for the soul of music tonight, b/c that's what only a true musician can feel.

Katrina Fatigue

Now that the New Orleans mayoral election is officially over, Americans can once again push thoughts of this city and the devastation of the Gulf Coast region to the back of their minds. On to the next tragedy: Will Barbaro's leg heal enough for him to avoid the death penalty?

How easily we tend to forget things that do not affect us directly. I was proud to read this, which is Sports Illustrated's Peter King, tackling the subject head on (thanks, Gary). I was also proud that CNN's Anderson Cooper kept showing us all, months after the disaster, that there was still so much to be done. And don't get me started on the trailers sitting in Hope, Arkansas - I could write reams about how incompetent federal agencies are with their bureaucracies and red tape.

No, we're spending money to secure our borders (something I don't disagree with). We are spending money to fight the terrorists "over there," or maybe to create a democracy for them. (I've lost track of what our current mission is in Iraq.) But who is taking care of our own? We have been assaulted as a nation, and the help just isn't coming. Still. After nine months.

I, like Peter, am furious. We still think about 9/11, as well we should. But now, the movies are coming to a theater near you. If you want to experience an ongoing disaster taking place today, all you have to do is drive South.

Register at the Morgue

I'm a big fan of Dateline's "To Catch a Predator" series, where they set up a police decoy to chat online, posing as a minor. Men of all ages make sexual advances on these "little girls," then arrange to meet them in person, when they think the parents aren't home. Here is a link where you can watch one of these #@*&*%'s as he arrives at a home, thinking he's about to have a sexual encounter with a minor child.

One of my daughter's friends wanted her to go to a high school football game last year, and I had to quiz the father taking them by asking, "Do you let your daughter run around all over the stadium?" You see, it's a small town, and I already knew the answer. I knew the other child and that she did not sit in the stands and actually WATCH THE GAME. Kids that age (12) are there to socialize, and run amuk. My daughter's classmates are all allowed this privilege. He scoffed at me, and when I didn't let my daughter attend the game with the family, I was labeled as "overprotective." People have become complacent, assuming that bad things don't happen here. When I first moved here, people didn't lock their cars or their homes. I was flabbergasted, b/c I grew up in a place where if you didn't lock your car, you wouldn't HAVE a car in less than fifteen minutes.

Our little town has hopefully woken up. Just last week, a level-three registered sex offender arrived at a local ballpark and attempted to lure two young girls into his van by offering them a ride. Fortunately, the heads-up mother alerted the police after her daughter told her what had happened, and the bastard is once again behind bars. What's worse? The sex offender was registered IN THE NEIGHBORING COUNTY. It can happen anywhere. And parents had better pay attention, know where their children are at all times, and check on them frequently. I'd rather be called "paranoid" and "overprotective" than "grieving mother," anyday.

And I believe the only place a sex offender should be registered is at the morgue.

Skewed Idol?

Here I am, voting with one hand, blogging with the other.

Tough night on Idol, and for the first time (Taylor Hicks fans might want to read with caution), I see the difference in the contestants. Elliot Yamin has more potential than Taylor. Katharine McPhee has more training than Taylor. And yet, Taylor is having the most fun in this competition.

I may be the only person in America who wasn't shocked that Chris Daughtry was voted off last week. His rocker scream was wearing on me. Did you know that your vocal chords involuntarily constrict and relax, based on what vocal tones you are hearing? I was usually tired after a Chris performance.
Two worries tonight. One that Taylor, for the first time, doesn't quite seem to measure up to the competition. Two, that Vote for the Worst might actually have something to do with the results of the competition. Each week, this web site tries to throw the Idol competition by encouraging its readers to vote for the contestant they have dubbed "the worst." At least, for Taylor's sake, they've had him pegged for the past two weeks. Will they make him safe? As of right now, Dial Idol has Taylor making it into the finals. And so far, they show that Katharine is the next to go.

I'm voting for Taylor, b/c I would truly love to see a non-packaged performer have a shot at the big time. I just love watching him, and I'm ready to hear an album (there's that old-timer word again) with a different type of vocal hit the charts than all the commercial idiocy plaguing the airwaves. Plus, Katharine always has this look on her face as if to say, "You must love me! I am hot! I can sing!" And appears just shocked when the judges lay down any criticism of her.

Tomorrow night, we'll know for sure who makes the finals. Let's hear it for the diabetic deaf guy, and the grey-haired soul man.

Head-Stompin' Mother's Day

I only wanted a very few things for Mother's Day, which I expressed in a kind but firm manner to the loving husband and daughter. They created my motherhoodness, allowing me to make certain requests, one day of the year. The demands were are follows:

1. No blaring alarm clocks in the morning.
2. No telephones ringing in the morning.
3. No cat, upon my chest, snagging at my lips with her claws in the morning.

Basically, I didn't want anything to artificially awaken me from my sleep. For once, I wanted to arise naturally, with nothing but my body's mechanisms and the rising sun to contribute to the process.

I had forgotten to mention one critical caveat: No Head-Stomping Poo Woo.
I really love my dog, whose real name is Lucky. "Poo Woo" comes from the fact that I started calling him "Lucky Loo Poo Woo" as a term of endearment. But he is quite animated and unaware of his own strength. He gets excited quite easily, hence, he is mainly an outside dog. When he enters the house each day, it is like a dog tornado.
A favorite weekend trick is to unleash the dog on the last sleepyhead of the family, who has chosen to laze until an unacceptable hour. Poo Woo loves this honor, and displays great talent in rousting the most stubborn sleeper. He will launch his body the entire length of the bedroom, land firmly on the offender, and commence stomping up and down on his or her head. Works like a charm. As it did again today.

The best part of the day was that for the first time ever, my daughter made me breakfast, all by herself, from a recipe she found. It was wonderful, and totally made up for the head-stomping.

Blaine-Worthy Feat

Did you see David Blaine this week? Hottie in a bubble. Until you saw his gnarly hands. Too bad the stunt didn't pan out the way he wanted. He should have focused on the breath-holding attempt, instead of compromising his abilities by submerging himself for a week in water. You know how sleepy you get after you go swimming? Try it for seven days. No wonder he failed. I really enjoyed Blaine more when he performed amazing card tricks on the street, or pulled string out of his abdomen, or made someone's watch appear in a storefront window.
I found something yesterday to pacify you Blaine-addicts out there - a truly amazing feat! Stuff on my cat is a site I check out daily, b/c I enjoy seeing the arrogant feline subjected to a wee bit of humiliation. (Don't worry, no cats are harmed in the making of this site.) At any rate, someone please tell me how you can get a cat to hold still long enough to get THIS photo! Seriously, that takes talent. Toilet paper is THIN, folks.

I know, not as exciting as "cat in a bubble," but try to wrap a cat in toilet paper, and I'll promise you it's worth televising.

Rocker Shocker

Is it possible? Is he really gone? Well, I gotta hand it to the American public (a group I had almost lost faith in after the 2004 elections) - they did the right thing. Chris Daughtry had the worst performances Tuesday night, possibly of his whole tenure on the show, and rightly deserved to go home. Yes, he is closest to Idol material, but he got too cozy and slacked off. No room for that anymore - not at this stage of the competition. More shocked was Katharine McPhee -- who should be the next to go.
What's amazing to me, is that America seems to have fallen in love with the two underdogs of the Idol story...the scruffy, talented Elliot, who is by no means polished in appearance, but charming, diabetic, and 90% deaf in one ear. And Taylor Hicks, the grey-haired, gravel-voiced, jerky soulman with painful dance moves, who looks nothing like the pop stars of today. I would argue that they are deserving to be in the top two, based on their love of music alone. And I'm just thrilled that the cutesy-pie, perfect-package kids are mostly out of the running. This is my first season to ever watch Idol, every episode, and I'm glad I did. Idol-faithful, educate me. Is this the best one ever?
Also important to note: Taylor is the only contestant who has NEVER been in the bottom three or bottom two. The only one.

Idol Thoughts

The Final Four, can you feel the excitement? This is really tough - a hard place in the competition, but I'm so thrilled that two of the most NON-COMMERCIAL guys have gotten so far! That's been my whole beef with American Idol, that we're supposed to pick a "Simon-Cowell-Endorsed-Package" of what our Idol should be. Now, Simon-lovers, don't go all hateful on me. I tend to agree with most of Simon's comments during the show. He's harsh, honest, and doesn't sugar-coat the cold reality of how the contestants perform. Plus, I don't think he's doing the mind-altering substances that Paula imbibes.

So...who are my top two? Taylor and Elliot. Taylor has always been my top pick, b/c he is REAL and DIFFERENT, and doesn't scmooze the camera. He is being true to himself. The man would shrivel and die if he wasn't involved in music. Elliot has a great voice, and with a little polishing, would make an album worth listening to. (Did I just date myself horribly by using the word "album?" Do any of you remember what an album is?)

As for Katharine, well, she has an inflated ego. That bothers me. Chris? I seriously don't think I could listen to 13 tracks of his voice. I own Live's "Throwing Copper," and as great as it is, I still can't listen to it all the way through without stopping. Katharine and Chris ARE, however, perfect commercial packages. Just what Simon would love. I think he actually resents Taylor Hicks making it this far - remember how Simon dissed him early in the auditions?

BTW, there is a web site that tracks the busy signals of each contestant's dial in numbers, called DialIdol that has been pretty close to predicting who will be voted off next. Here are their results from last night:

DialIdol Score Margin Of Error

Taylor Hicks 29.749 1.533
Elliott Yamin 29.181 1.539
Katharine McPhee 25.623 1.577
Chris Daughtry 25.241 1.581

Could it be true? Can't wait for tonight!

Acronymania!

Amber got her yearbook Friday, which was IN COLOR - the ENTIRE THING! How cool is that? I love looking through the photos, putting faces with the names of kids she's mentioned throughout the year. Especially the ones she's said are "bullies" or "mean" or "jerks." Got my eye on those. It's also neat to see how much her classmates have changed since they were wee ones.

So, I'm flipping through - and I'm reading all the messages left by her friends. I notice two things that disturb me. One signature includes the message "LYLAFKLC," and another dozen or so include "HAGS."

LYLAFKLC. Okay. My mind is twisting around that one pretty fast. Going thru all the possibilities. I remember a favorite in my day was "LYLAS," or "Love You Like a Sister." Was easy to pronounce - "lie-lass." But what was this? I get the scoop from the kid. LYLAFKLC = "Love You Like A Fat Kid Loves Cake." Thank goodness.

HAGS? I wondered if the first kid who wrote this was...well...affected. Maybe just a little bit of dyslexia while trying to write "hugs." Then another kid signed that way - and another. Was this the beginning of a middle school version of the "Mean Girls" clique? Nope. Evidently, HAGS = "Have a Good Summer."

My turn. Every so often, I get a CD addiction. I'll buy a CD, and then it stays in my CD player for a month, until I've memorized every song on it. My latest addiction is FOB. Catchy, great lyrics, great song titles...I think I've about got the thing memorized. I even like their videos! So if you're wanting to catch up with today's music at all, this is a CD I would recommend. And I wouldn't recommend you look up Pete Wentz's Sidekick photos that were "mistakenly" distributed on the 'net. Though I have a whole new respect for little guys. Their album is entitled "From Under the Cork Tree." What's the significance of the title? In a recent interview, Pete said, "We wanted for people to get their parents to buy it for them [having] to say, 'Will you go buy me FUCT?' It's just an awesome acronym." I think it would be funnier if they told their fans to go out and get FUCT. Oh, and for those of you who are acronymically-challenged, FOB = "Fall Out Boy." HAGS!

Got Pants?

HOORAY! It's NO PANTS DAY!! (Better than acknowledging Cinco de Mayo, with all the unrest in today's America, dontcha think?) According to the official web site, which you can access here, "No Pants Day" is a day where everyone, be they students, respectable businessmen, or cherished community leaders, leave their pants behind. Usually this means wearing thick, appropriately modest boxer shorts, but bloomers, slips, briefs, and boxer-briefs all work as well. If you are participating today, you are invited to upload your photos to flickr.com, with the tag of "no pants day." And, when you access the official web site, you can view photos from previous events. My favorite has to be the gentleman in his shirt, tie, and jacket, standing atop a conference room table, pantsless. Taking "Casual Friday" to a whole new level!

I Am Grup

After a recent trip out with friends to a club, I was reminded of an article that I read about "grups." (Full text of this fascinating article here, with thanks to Mr. Big.) Pictured to the right is a couple in their late 30's, with children younger than my daughter. The author of this article has noticed a trend I thought was my own personal identity crisis - that many people my age "refuse to grow up." I am evidently not alone.

I joke all the time to my husband about how the nursing homes one day will be filled with the tunes of the Doors, Jimi Hendrix, and Led Zeppelin - as little old men in wheelchairs pester nurses for a spare joint. As the article suggests, that vision may not be far off. It seems as if more and more people in their 30's, 40's and 50's have kept up with fashion and pop music, breaking the cycle of "parents who just can't understand the music these days," thereby partially eliminating the generation gap. I listen to Bloc Party, and yes, they ARE better than The Bravery. My husband hangs his many guitars on our dining room walls. My friend, whiterabbit, still wears Converse. My daughter has just discovered The Cure and New Order...what's going on here?

The author claims it's our generation's passion for life, something I whole-heartedly agree with. In the closing paragraph, he states, "Being a Grup isn’t, as it turns out, all about holding on to some misguided, well-marketed idea of youth—or, at least, isn’t just about that. It’s also about rejecting a hand-me-down model of adulthood that asks, or even necessitates, that you let go of everything you ever felt passionate about. It’s about reimagining adulthood as a period defined by promise, rather than compromise. And who can’t relate to that?"

Awesome...totally. Now excuse me, while I go dancing.

Unbridled Emotions

I have had a really tough two weeks. Mostly job-related stress and a flurry of responsibilities to address. You know, when you reach a certain age, you are expected to handle such adversity with maturity. As a business-owner, I face intense scrutiny for my decisions and reactions to conflict. I'm not allowed to cry.

I have a Netflix subscription, but it's difficult to find time to watch movies, now that the kiddo has entered softball season. Finally, I was able to watch "Radio," uninterrupted. A friend of mine suggested the film, and I had caught bits and pieces of it on satellite. But I wanted to fully immerse myself in the movie experience. Immerse, I did.

I was amazed at the acting skills of Cuba Gooding, Jr. I recall his performance in "Boyz 'n the Hood," when he was just a young actor. And who could forget his enthusiastic Oscar acceptance speech when he won for his supporting role in "Jerry Maguire?" The fact that "Radio" involved sports made this even better. Plus, I'm a sucker for anything based on a true story.

My daughter thought I was a blithering idiot during the scene when Radio found out about the death of his mother. I was sitting on the couch, literally crying and bawling great hitching sobs, right along with Radio. Tears were flowing down my cheeks, uncontrollably - and it felt SO GOOD. I am an incredibly passionate individual, in every aspect of my life. It was just the release I needed.

I strongly encourage you to watch this film. It reminded me that there are others so much less fortunate than I, and it is my responsibility as a decent human being to reach out to those who would benefit from my assistance. In one way, the story of Radio was a gift to me. I will find a way to return the favor.