Passing the Torch (temporarily)

Hey hey party people!

I apologize for being the world's worst blogger, but if it's any consolation I'm also the world's worst daughter, friend, and student as I flounder around this post grad realm. (It's very dark. I keep bumping into things.)

But actually I've been working at a day camp and seeing a ton of people and now I'm running away to lead an international travel trip with 40 11th graders.

In the interim I am having my resident expert on the QLC (aka mi hermana) drop some knowledge bombs. Enjoy the break from radio silence.

See you in 3 weeks!

xoxo gossip squirrel

The Cinderella Fallacy

From among the battery of lies that Disney brainwashed us with in our youth, this is one of the most frustrating. The commitment to happy endings in that animation studio was upsettingly Utopian and these days the simple elegance of the animation and the sweet songs are only just enough to prevent the stories from ringing completely hollow. But despite their irrelevance to reality, the anti-feminist whims of Disney are part of our cultural catalouges and we must, therefore, confront them.

But it is not Cinderella's inability to complete simple tasks without the assistance of rodents, magic, or men that gets my goat. It is the fairytale's governing principal that when the clock strikes twelve, everything will disappear. That in twelve swings of a pendulum everything we have that brings us joy will taken without cause but with great consequence.

I suppose she didn't work for her gown or glass slippers, but Allah knows she deserved them. And Allah knows she enjoyed them, in the most pure and innocent of ways. So, dear fairy godmother, why taunt her with happiness?  You could have just as easily treated her to a tacky dress from the sales rack at macy's and some worn pumps from the Goodwill. But instead you treat her to the lap of luxury, a jarring experience to be sure, just to rip it away. Rude.

I resent the implication that happiness, that relief from the unpleasantries in our lives, is temporary. Who says? Disney? Well he also wanted a housing development with only Aryans so let's take the guy's advice with a grain of salt. Maybe if we pull a Cindy and wait to be saved that's true. But if we work hard and long and hey, I'm not averse to a dash of good luck, then why shouldn't we be able to shake off the step mothers and step sisters and evil cats in our lives?

Part of Cinderella's cautionary tale is that we should work for it; that gifts can be taken as easily as given. But at this volta in my life the more powerful message is that Disney sucks, and fairytales are bullshit, and if I want it to my happiness can last until 12:15, or 3:15 (I know dad, nothing good ever happens after 1 am). It's really not up to an unwelcome elderly woman or a concerningly mysterious prince (seriously, what's his name?) to determine when my fun is over.

And furthermore, a ripped dress, a little pumpkin mush, and and a lost shoe is not a compelling set of reasons to head home. Lock it up Cindy. Rule #76 - No Excuses. Play Like a Champion.

Mixed Tape - Installment Uno

I'm not sure which mix nomenclature is appropriately outdated, but I settled on mix tape because it is from just before my adolescence. Today, I wanted to share with you the first group of 20 songs that capture the essence of what my life feels like right now. Future lists may include 20 emotional songs to wallow with, 20 songs to drive with, but these are the songs that, when I feel overwhelmed by life, make me feel like it could all be OK. Here are the first 5. Now go dance. (not to these, they're all pretty slow, but to something else).

Fun - Some Nights Intro

#anthem

Frank Turner - Four Simple Words

Enjoy the moment with this punk-folk-rock ditty

Adele (and Glee) - Rumor Has It and SOmeone Like You

This mash-up is fabulous. It's bold and fierce and I love it. Y'know what? Shit happens. Don't cry. Do something kick-ass.

Mumford and Sons - Lover of the Light

I just love mumf and I especially love this song. Enjoy the here and the now. Look forward with positivity. And how elegantly simple: I'll be yours if you'll be mine. Maybe it's that easy.

Sara Bareilles - Once Upon Another Time

Classic S.B. This is an easy pick me up that reminds me it's not all over.

Caveat: Never have I ever pretended to be some sort of music guru. I know very little. I can express even less. This is just what makes me happy. I hope it makes you happy too.

I am...SO sorry

This is my grand romantic gesture: I apologize for my absences, I regret having led one or more of my beautiful audience to believe that I had died in some tragic margarita mystery accident, and I vow to make it up to you with lots of opinions that you may or may not like on this funny thing called life. Prepare Yourself... here it comes

It's Vegas, Betches!!!

So this weekend I went to Vegas. I go to school in Los Angeles and since I'm graduating in a matter of months (weeks sounds too intense here) I thought it was high time that I see what all the hype was about. My experience was unique because it was for a friend's birthday and her dad got us two suites at the Cosmopolitan, so I was definitely a little spoiled. But here's the good, the bad, and the ugly:

The Good:
Damn. There be some good food. It's expensive and disorientingly large in quantity, but hands down, the best part of my weekend (besides indulgent day drinking) was the food. I had some of the best chicken pot pie that I've ever had the pleasure of consuming, accompanied by a Mambo Italiano, which is a delightfully spiced Bloody Mary. Boom. I had $5 Margs on national margarita day. I indulged in the $50 buffet (line jump and bottomless mimosas included) which gave me a southern comfort course, a breakfast plate, an asian italian fusion (or so I have dubbed the combined plating of garlic bread and cucumber-avacado sushi rolls), and desert tasting. Juicy Fried Chicken. Creamy Mashed Potatoes. Perfectly Flavored Green Beans. Succulent Stuffed french toast. Fresh fruit. Rich Gelatto. Mini pockets of perfect Tiramisu. Mini Pecan Pies. Later on we got street tacos and finished the weekend with some delectable sandwiches. Leave it at this: Gluttony is my favorite of all the sins of sin city.
I should also give a shout out to dancing. Which was incredibly fun, especially at Surrender.

The Bad:
The best advice I could give you about going to Vegas is keeping the group small. I think, depending on your level of closeness, 3 or 4 is perfect. You'll all fit in one room. You can easily break into pairs. You can be really honest about what you want, do that thing, and easily stay in communication with all members of your party. I was there with 8, which is approximately double my recommendation. Keep it small. Keep it easy. Keep it fun. I whole heartedly believe in the "go big or go home" philosophy, but not when it comes to Vegas group size. May you avoid the anger, frustration, and passive aggression that plagued my Vegas adventures.

The Ugly:
People are SOOO mean. I think that everyone has spent a lot of money. To get there. To stay there. To gamble there. To drink there. To eat there. And because humans are apparently incapable of understanding what other people experience, particularly when they're shwasted on 64 oz of margaritas, they act obscenely towards others. I got cut off, pushed, spilled on, yelled at, and called out in just one night more than I have in the rest of my life combined. And it didn't end when I left! There was a white lexus SUV full of girls coming from Vegas (complete with "Party On Board" stickers. vomit.) who were literally ALL texting at a red light. When they looked up to notice that I had started to pull into their lane the driver honked, pursed her lips, and shook her head at me like I was an infant trying to lick a live outlet. Fuck You. Another girl, at the casino, trying to pull her friend away from my friend, shouted, "Come on! Leave the fucking grenades, let's go!" (for those of you who are as unfamiliar with MTV's television stylings as I am, a "grenade is a terrible term pulled from the set of Jersey Shore which means a girl who you would hook up with only to wake up sober and realize that she's hideous and a terrible human being). Great. Really killing it Vegas.

The whole experience raised one of the not-at-all-timeless conundrums of the twenty something's life style: At what expense am I forcing myself to be young, wild, and free? Because really, at the end of the day, wouldn't I have been happier hitting up an awesome club in LA (a probable small downgrade from Surrender and Marquee) and spending a night watching Arrested Development with my friends? I return to a valuable mantra: You do YOU. Don't try to be someone else. Don't go on trips or do things just because you're supposed to. Because guess what. The worst way to waste your twenties is by being miserable, waiting to do do things you want to do, or waiting for something better to come along. Get the giant margarita, but only if it's what you want. Do things on your terms. Try new things, because there's usually an implicit level of fun in the novelty, but don't force yourself to repeat frustrating things just because there supposed to be fun. If Vegas exists to teach us a lesson it is not a warning against over indulgence, it's a warning against indulging in what we're supposed to want. You do you. The rest will follow.

Peace Out Betches (More posts in the coming days, I promise.)

Happy Anna Howard Shaw Day

So I know you were probably expecting a vindictive single feminist rant against the commercialization of an imaginary holiday, which, for the record, I could offer you in my sleep. But instead of harping on the implicit exclusion and terrible clashing that are woven into the fabric of Valentine's Day, I'd like to try and give the festivities a bit of their dignity back. (thank me later)

I don't normally need a reason to eat chocolate, or buy flowers, but if you're just throwing reasons at me...
You want more reasons to enjoy this day? Valentine's Day is a reminder to share the love. Love your family. Love your friend. Love yourself. And I know that in this modern state of awareness and relationship building you think that we don't need a day particularly designated for telling people you love them, but we have reminders for so many other mundane things. When my light butter popcorn is done in the microwave it's a solid minute before it stops beeping. I set three alarms to wake up on the daily. So you think a reminder won't come in handy?

Share the love! Don't hate today. Enjoy it. Lean into it. Treat yourself to some appreciation and make sure everyone in your life knows how much they mean to you.

Excuse me while I get down from my pedestal. Off to go enjoy some free candy.