How Getting Mobbed by Howie Mandel Melts a Heart of Stone

What do you get when you mash up a B-List celebrity host, an overdone trend and heart-wrenching family drama? I'll tell you: my new favorite show.

Basically the deal is (according to the expertise I gained from watching a grand total of 1 episode), Howie Mandel (yep) uses a team of flash-mobbers to reconcile relationships. Through dance. That's about it.

SITUATION RECAP: Older Brother writes in and tells us about how this feud between him and Younger Brother is tearing his family (and their band) apart. He explains that one day, Younger Brother had called and asked Older Brother to bail him out of some hijinks...again. Furious at this request, Older Brother decided to take matters into his own hands and not only steal younger brother's clothes and favorite guitar, but also sell them. Older Brother later finds out that Younger Brother was actually planning a surprise birthday party for him instead. Older Brother feels like a douche (as well he should) and calls Howie Mandel.

Younger Brother is super hostile to Older Brother and they haven't talked in months.

Enter flash mob.

Full disclosure, I have no idea why the flash mob is necessary.

Why didn't this kid just make a sincere apology to his brother on his own instead of involving national television? And if we are going to make it a production, why isn't a mind-boggling drummer with a 67-piece see-through drumset and "the guy from Everclear" (both present in this episode) enough for us?

I'll tell you why. Because this is America, dang it.

And we go big or go home.

And throw in a celebrity just for good measure. And kick out anyone who does it wrong (also happened in this episode). There is no room for sloppy overhead claps in flash mobs. This is serious business.

How it went down: Younger Brother gets blindsided while under the impression he is meeting with a record exec who wants to sign them, but change his lyrics into a rap. Just as he is in full-blown tirade mode at this heinous suggestion, the flash mob kicks off.

Younger Brother, understandably shaken at this point, has no idea what is going on for about 5 minutes, until Older Brother finally reveals himself and makes a sincere apology (but not without a duet on the see-through drums first).

After several attempts by Older Brother to convince Younger Brother he is being sincere, Younger Brother finally breaks down and embraces his brother, apologizing and telling him he misses him and loves him.

Heartwarming things like this continue to happen as Guy From Everclear tells them to cherish the relationship he could never have with his brother that passed away, and the Brothers' mom shows up all excited that they are finally reconciled.

It was quite possibly one of the most precious things I've ever seen. To see Younger Brother's rock-solid exterior melt before my very eyes was kind of beautiful.

Moral of the Story

The longer the episode went on and the more I learned about Younger Brother, the more nervous I was that this would all be a huge failure. He'd even said that if Older Brother were not actually his brother, he would "beat his brains in" and put him in jail. Not exactly an attitude conducive to forgiveness.

Even Howie seemed a little uneasy about the whole thing.

I mean, in what universe would provoking obviously-irritable Younger Brother to the point of rage, then throwing him into a sea of jazz hands and fist pumps from 1000 strangers make him want to accept an apology? But Howie must know what he's doing, because it worked.

What I think this story shows is that almost any grudge or fight can be reconcilable,

if someone is brave enough to take the first step.

A strange thing happens when you do. The other person is completely unraveled by your humility and willingness to mend your relationship, and the walls come down. Our instinct of self-preservation melts away when someone admits they were wrong and asks for forgiveness.

How many times in our lives have we refused to be the first to apologize? What would have happened if we did?

The younger brother in this scenario was 100% unwilling to even talk to his brother, let alone forgive him. I'm telling you--it seemed impossible. Yet even the most hardened of hearts, it seems, can often be just a defense mechanism--a result of a deep hurt--and when the opposing side surrenders, there's nothing to defend anymore.

Though surrounded by flash mobs and see-through drums, the beautiful story of forgiveness and redemption shone through. And I loved it.

Don't get me wrong, the absurdity of the flash mobs and trickery definitely made it interesting and contributed to this being my new favorite show. But the story was what stuck with me.

Where have you seen redemption where you least expected it?

Creating Joy

Joy can be hard to come across these days. Once we enter the "real world," sometimes it feels like there's not much room for it. It seems we often just set our course and stick to it, doing the same thing day in and day out.

Sometimes it feels like we have to find joy. That it's hiding from us, and we have to search for it.

But what if we chose to create it instead?

I watched a video on Jon Acuff's site the other day that lifted my spirits and gave me a picture of what joy can look like when you choose to create it.

A little background: Bob Goff and his neighbors have this parade each year on New Year's Day with only one rule: anyone can participate, but no one can watch. 

A few things I love about this video and the people in it:

1. Bob Goff and his neighborhood chose to ask "why not?" rather than "why?" There's no logical reason to have a parade in your neighborhood--let alone one that nobody is allowed to watch, but anyone can participate in. It doesn't make a profit or change the world (per se). It's probably a lot of work to organize. But some things--especially joyful things--don't have to have a "why." How much would having the attitude of "why not?" change how I live? What could I do if I didn't worry about if it made sense or what people would say?
2. They believe that every person has something valuable to contribute. I love seeing other people's creativity at work and that the parade encouraged that. I love the idea of just being YOU, and that being special on its own. That you have something to contribute that no one else can. I think sometimes we can get lost in our jobs or our family or school (all good things, by the way) that we forget we are an individual with talents and opinions and a "you." This parade brings out each person's "you," and I love it.
3. They weren't performing for anyone. It takes the temptation of chasing applause--which, if we're honest, I think we all battle--out of the picture. They did it simply for the joy it brought their souls.
4. I love anything that brings people together and connects them as fellow human beings. I think there's something beautiful about finding common ground with others and living in community. I doubt all the people in this parade shared the same beliefs or political standings, but instead of focusing on what divides us, it highlighted what connected us. They all came together to create something beautiful and joyful.
5. Balloons. Seriously, is there anything more joyful than hundreds of colorful balloons?
6. Roderick's smile. Wow.

So there's your mini-dose of joy for today! I hope it made your heart lighter and maybe even brought you some encouragement.

Do you struggle to find joy in the everyday grind? What's your favorite thing about this video?

You can read Jon's post on this video here.

A Picture Is Worth 1000 Words: Glitter Bomb

Background: Apparently Occupy-ers in D.C. protested a gathering of this group called The Alfalfa club by utilizing the highly refined and well-respected tactic called the "glitter bomb." (Really? Is there anything more harmless and unthreatening than glitter? The most you're going to inflict upon them is the minor inconvenience of the fact that glitter can survive nuclear war and will continue to appear on their feet and on their kitchen floor for years to come.) I doubt this protest accomplished much, but what it did do is create what is quite possibly my new favorite photo of all time:

The juxtaposition of this man's clearly-unamused face and the fact that he is covered in multi-colored glitter is almost too good to be true.

Which brings me to possible captions:

• "I'm too old for this stuff."
• "I'm going to kill Bob for making me take his shift tonight."
• "I swore to myself I would never get involved with glitter again after I quit crafts for good 17 years ago."
• "Damn kids and their hoopla."
• "Now imma have to go to the dry cleaners after work tomorrow."
• "Carl Winslow never had to put up with this crap."

Please feel free to join in! What caption would you put with this picture?

"Not Them, Too!": A Lament in Light of Recent Celebrity Breakups

As a society, we've come to expect certain things: former teen stars on drugs, nonsense on MTV, Madonna's reinventions of herself. We get it. It's Hollywood. But even though we've seen countless celebrity breakups throughout our lives, there's some part of us deep down that secretly wants certain celebrity couples to make it the long haul. We know the likelihood is slim, but we still hold certain couples to a higher standard.

Over the last couple months it seems that all our hopes and dreams have been dashed. Couples we swore would be the holdouts have crumbled from "so in love" to "mutual respect for one another" seemingly in the blink of an eye.

So, in light of these recent breakups, I thought I'd take a moment to recap these relationships and properly grieve their loss.

Demi and Ashton: Okay, we were all semi-shocked when this relationship became a thing. Let's face it, on the surface it makes no sense. He wore trucker hats and had a show called "Punk'd" in which he pranked other celebrities and yelled enthusiastically into the camera in black-and-white. (Not that we were complaining.) And she--well, she's Demi Moore. I'm pretty sure we all gave it a year, tops.

But as the years rolled on and nothing happened (no news is good news when it comes to celebrity marriages), we started to believe in them. They defied the odds, appearing together on red carpet after red carpet, until we just assumed they'd be together forever. How dare they toy with our emotions like that? Making us abandon our common sense and actually have faith in their relationship, then ripping it right out from under us...unbelievable.

J.Lo and Marc Anthony: It's pretty clear who is the reacher and who is the settler in this relationship. But for J.Lo to settle down and have twins with someone, we knew it had to be real. After all, she's still just Jenny from the block. And hey, he seems like a pretty swell guy. Enter American Idol. Now, I'm not saying American Idol came between them, but did anyone else see that performance? Clearly J.Lo was getting pretty used to her reclaimed throne-o-fame and ol' Marc just has to attempt to serenade the swaybots by singing in Spanish (strike 1) while the world ignores him and watches her shake her booty. I felt tense just watching it. Poor J.Little and Marc Jr. (I have no idea what their twins' names are).

Heidi Klum and Seal: I really know nothing about this relationship other than the fact that it existed, but everyone seemed pretty devastated to find out they were splitting. After all, we perceive the length of celebrity marriages like we do dog years, and 7 x 7 is 49. So it's basically like they've been married 49 years. Who breaks up after 49 years? You've almost made it to your 50th anniversary. Such a shame.

Katy Perry and Russell Brand: This was an admittedly short-lived marriage, even by celebrity standards, and I'm sure more sensible observers would have seen this coming. But I, for one, was disappointed. For no other reason besides the fact that I just like the combination of those two people. And it also bums me out that we will never see a Katy-Russell hybrid (er...child).

Help us,Will and Jada. You're our only hope.

What celebrity couple do you hope lasts a lifetime? Who are you most disappointed to see separate?

Dear Blue Ivy Carter (a.k.a. Babyonce)

Dear Blue Ivy, Welcome to the world!

And congratulations on already becoming the youngest person to have a chart-topping hit. Your performance was moving.

I'm sure you've heard by now that your parents are quite the music moguls, and you might consider following in their footsteps. You might be tempted to whip your hair back and forth or add "lil" in front of your name. I beg you to reconsider. Don't feel pressured by society to continue the legacy your parents have established. (Though if your dance skills and vocal prowess are remotely as mind-boggling as your mom's, I'd personally like see Beyonce 2.0 at some point in our future. Just sayin'. Take the time to have a childhood, go to prom, finish school---then take the world by storm and wow us all with the combined talent of Beyonce and Jay-Z. It'd really be a shame to let that gene pool go to waste.)

I'd also like to request that, no matter how tempting it seems, you steer clear of reality television in the future. Since you are considered 2nd generation pop royalty, several shows may call your name. And you may be enticed by the fact that you'd be blazing your own trail to fame separate from your parents'. But if we've learned anything from reality T.V., it's that it is not conducive to making solid life decisions, and reality T.V. fame is like the tagalong friend to the cool kids (i.e. real fame) that no one really takes seriously. Just look at the cast of Jersey Shore (sorry if that reference is lost on you by the time you're old enough to read this).

So even if the producers get together Mariah Carey and Nick Cannon's twins, Suri Cruise, and the host of children Angelina Jolie has taken under her wing and want you to round out the cast, just say no. Because you're better than that, babyonce. You're better than that.

Also, please don't listen to Watch the Throne until you're at least 16, and I'd avoid your dad's friend Kanye at all costs. Society doesn't trust him and neither do I.

Now, Blue Ivy, go forth and grace the pages of US Weekly's "Stars: They're Just Like Us!" and People Magazine for years to come. We'll be patiently awaiting your debut in 2030.

Love,

Laura

P.S. Will you talk to your mom about being my friend? I'd really appreciate you getting a good word in for me. Thanks.

Why Newt Gingrich Should Consider the Mic Drop

Let's be real. I don't really care about politics. I know I should. I know that what happens this fall could potentially change my life in some way. But I still struggle to care.

I think it's because I never know if politicians truly mean what they say or not. And that bothers me. Also, a hoard of people standing behind a guy every time he addresses an audience like an overly encouraging entourage, clapping and nodding to everything the person says makes the adolescent inside me want to roll my eyes a little bit.

But I've thought about this.

What would convince me they believe in what they are saying? Or at least make it worth watching?

A mic drop.

Is there really anything more B.A. than a mic drop? Okay, don't answer that.But I would pay good money to see a candidate make what they feel is their most solid point, stick their fist out, drop the mic, and walk way.

Would you not involuntarily erupt in applause at the sheer "oh, snap" factor? (That's a thing. Look it up.) It'd be like a one-sided rap battle. Except with no breakdancing. (Which, by the way, I would also pay good money to see a candidate fit into their speech.)

Plus, if it were me, and my name was already Newt, I'd just have it double as my rap name and go all in. NEWT. The Newtster. In your face. Comin' atcha. Something to consider. (If Newt's intern happens to be reading this thanks to a Google Alert, I'd like to also suggest a flat brimmed neon hat worn sideways to complete the image I'm imagining.)

Now, once one candidate discovered the undeniable impact of the mic drop, I'm afraid they'd all try it, and then the abundance of mic drops would cheapen the effect. But until that happens, I maintain it could make politics a lot more interesting.

Why stop at politics? Here are some other scenarios in which I think a mic drop would enhance the moment:

A J.K. Rowling book signing. (I just want to see her do that.)

A national spelling bee championship.

An acceptance speech for "Most Predictable" at a company-wide award ceremony.

After a kindergartener's solo in the Christmas concert.

An inspirational speech after landing on the moon. (This, of course, would be symbolic, considering the mic would not be projecting any sound, and, well, there has to be enough gravity for the mic to actually drop. But I think the sentiment would be the same.)

Have you had any experiences that you think would have been enhanced by a mic drop?

P.S. I've created a Facebook page! If you'd like to keep up with my new blog posts each week and future writing endeavors, you can click the "like" button in the right sidebar on my blog. 

How the Internet Made Me Miss 1997

Around the tender age of 8, I made a terrible mistake. It seemed like a good idea at the time (don't they all?), but I would soon find out it was one of the worst decisions of my young life.

I brushed the hair of my American Girl doll.

Not in the careful, start-at-the-bottom-and-only-use-the-brush-it-came-with kind of way, but in the I-took-my-paddle-brush-to-it-as-if-it-weren't-made-of-synthetic-hair kind of way. And the poor girl was never the same.

I feel bad for little Samantha. After all, she was used to high society and Victorian class. She had a faux fur hand warmer to go with her winter outfit, for goodness' sake. And in a matter of moments, I turned her into Hermoine, circa The Sorcerer's Stone. (Yes, I just referenced Harry Potter to describe my American Girl. How relevant am I?)

I vowed to never brush the hair of my American Girls ever again. As a result, Josephina and Whatever-I-Named-the-One-I-Created (who, by the way, my non-conformist-self did not design to look like me, as the manufacturers intended, but instead filled the void of the under-represented Asian-American category in the American Girl lineup), never had a hairstyle other than the one they came with out of the box.

The only reason I was reminded of this incident recently is because of the widespread nostalgia taking over the Internet.

I think it has something to do with the fact that all 90's kids are starting to enter the "real world," so we need a little bit of childhood in our lives to supplement the new adulthood. The Internet is here to help. Thanks to Twitter accounts like 90's Girl Problem (LOVE), articles like this and Pinterest, we're all being reminded of the simpler days, when our biggest worry was if our Tomagachi was going to die while it sat in our backpack all day (as they were, of course, banned from use during class) or how to make our Furby shut up (did anyone else regret using hard-earned lemonade stand money to buy one of these?).

I love that no matter where we grew up, we all have similar memories like these. It's like a collective childhood. The friends you have now, who you didn't even know existed when you were 8, totally had a Lisa Frank folder and were Team BSB or N*Sync, too. (Or, for boys, Creepy Crawlers and...um...what else did boys have in the 90s? Pogs?).

While I absolutely love this trend and am enjoying every minute of the probably-premature nostalgia, I think it can also be a double-edged sword. Constantly longing for the past hinders us from fully enjoying the present or looking forward to the future. I'm as guilty as anyone in this aspect. I'm super nostalgic. I recently read a quote on Facebook (the source of all intelligent and never-misattributed quotes) that said something to the effect of, "If you're always rereading the last chapter, you can't move on to the next." While this is admittedly a bit cheesy, it resonated with me because it's something I've struggled with, particularly since I graduated high school.

During my first couple years of college, I missed high school. My friends, my small town---all of it. Now that I'm in my real-world life, I've started to miss college. I imagine this sequence continues on as you journey through life.

The truth is, we're making memories right now we'll look back on five years from now and call the "good ol' days." So let's resolve to make the most of it and maximize our time right now to make it count. I'm challenging myself as much as you on this---to look back on years past, smile, and keep moving forward, rather than trying to relive or recreate it. There's nothing wrong with a little 90's pop Pandora station now and then (Third Eye Blind is literally playing as I type), but I am going to try to avoid clinging to what has been and enjoy the phase of my life I'm in right now. We're always going to have a tendency to go back to the familiar, because, well, it's familiar. And the future is unknown and scary. But one day it will be our past.

Law of Diminishing Celebrity Utility [Complete with Visual Aid]

I have a theory. Well, it's not my theory per se, but it's my application of a theory. Or a law, rather.

It's called the Law of Diminishing Marginal Utility (stay with me). Basically it states that the desire for a product/food/etc. diminishes over time as it is consumed. For example, if you're really thirsty, that first glass of water is going to be glorious. It will taste like you're drinking from a crystal spring that's never been altered by man. Even if it's actually from a water fountain in the mall. But the more you drink, the less desirable the water becomes, because you're no longer craving it. Same goes for things like pancakes, "Baby, It's Cold Outside" or a Dane Cook joke. No matter how much you initially enjoyed it, you've reached a point where it's not appealing any more.

I propose this applies to the number of celebrities starring in a movie. One celebrity: totally acceptable. Three celebrities: even better. But slowly you approach the breaking point.

I made a chart to explain this very phenomenon. (Thanks for saying "ooooooo" enthusiastically.) Behold:

You'll note that around the six-actor mark we hit an interesting point in which we start to question the overall validity of the film.

Six celebrities? Hm, okay...a little unusual and unnecessary to have that many leads, but whatever. Maybe it's justified. Steve Carrell plays an aspiring astronaut, so it's worth a shot.

Pushing it a little further starts getting you into dangerous territory. Seven celebrities...ten celebrities...

And before you know it, here you are:

Note: This poster doesn't even include the entire celebrity cast.

We let Valentine's Day slide because we didn't know what we were getting into. Honestly, we'd just never seen that many celebrities packed into one film, and we were interested to see how that would even work.

But not this time. Not. This. Time.

Now we know better.

Putting approximately 23 celebrities in the same movie severely diminishes their face time, reducing it to little more than a cameo. Rule of thumb: if you can't fit all the celebrities' faces into a 1:30 minute trailer without just flashing photos to a music montage like a YouTube fan video, you've gone too far.

I think the producers just got carried away. It's like they started making a sandwich, then thought, hey, I like fruit loops and ketchup too, so what if I pile those on top? It'd be extra delicious!

Maybe the casting directors just passed a hat around L.A., and each of the actors lazily threw their name in and shrugged, "eh, why not?" (Or in Sofia Vergara's case, "Eh, por que no?")

But now they must live with the consequences of their seemingly lackadaisical decision-making, emblazoned on their IMDB page forever. ("What was 'New Years Eve'? And why did she play 'Cynical Best Friend #1' during the peak of her career?")

I'd almost expect this kind of thing from Hilary Swank. But really, Ludacris? We thought you were better than that.

What's your limit on the number of celebrities in a movie?

Three Ways Twitter Won Me Over

I'm nearly the opposite of an early adopter. If people had care labels (how awesome would that be, by the way?), mine would probably say, "Warning: change-resistant." (Unfortunately, Craig didn't have the luxury of a label. But he figured it out quickly enough.)

I'm nostalgic. I can eat the same thing for breakfast for weeks at a time. When given the option to update a software or website, I nearly always stick with what I know. If forced, I usually just put all my settings as close to the original as possible and move on with my life.

I hardly ever see the need for something new when the old way is working just fine. I'm the embodiment of "if it ain't broke, don't fix it." (Except that I can't think of any situation in which I would use the word "ain't" in real life...besides in this mantra.)

So naturally, I fought long and hard against Twitter. Really, I did.

What is the point? I said. How is it any different than just posting statuses on Facebook? I said.

But over the next year or so, slowly but surely, I cracked. I resolved to only get Twitter so that I could follow funny celebrities (something you could not do on Facebook) and not post anything myself. Now look at me. I fought and lost. Big time.

I am here, 3 years and 4,523 tweets later, to eat my words.

Why I Love Twitter:

1. Connecting with people I admire. This is definitely first and foremost why I love Twitter. After my early-adopter (in the truest sense of the word) husband encouraged me to change my Twitter to public rather than private (BUT WHAT IF A CREEPER SEES MY TWEETS ABOUT POP MUSIC AND HARRY POTTER AND COMES AND GETS ME?! I logically protested.), I finally gave in and tried it out. Not only have I not been gotten by a creeper with a curious knowledge of memory charms and Nikki Minaj, but I have also had the opportunity to have 140-character conversations with writers and artists I admire, simply by trying. I'm amazed at how often people with thousands of followers actually respond to individuals. It's like one big open floor. I also love that it gives artists and writers and pop stars a way to build a community of fans. I, along with every other fan, love getting a glimpse into what it's like to be those people. I think it also levels the playing field in that we're reminded we're all just people--with parents and favorite foods and bad days. We just happen to have different jobs.
2. Humor. Twitter's character limit, I think, encourages wit. Packing humor into one or two short sentences takes skill, and there are a lot of people out there who do it well. I think it even encourages people to be more humorous than they thought they could be. I love that pictures have become punchlines. And I love the aspect of participatory humor. For example, Dave Barnes (easily one of the greatest examples of using Twitter for humor) recently started the hashtag #foodasfiction (or at least started it on my feed). A ton of people responded to him with their answers (I.e. "A Wok to Remember" and "Crepes of Wrath" ), and he retweeted a lot of great ones. In that sense, it creates this giant inside joke we can all be a part of. I love that. It really is a community.
3. Shameless self-promotion. Twitter's turnover rate in the feed allows you to promote something you're proud of without annoying your audience. I don't mind if someone tweets the same link three times in one day, because each time I saw it, my feed had already completely reloaded, and it wasn't one right after the other. Unless someone tweets 15 times a day about the same thing, I'm probably not going to be annoyed by them promoting their art. On the flip side (totally shameless, remember?) I love that I can share my blog post to more people without any pressure on them to commit. I just throw it out there, and they can choose to click on it or not. They don't have to hit "subscribe" and read all my posts, and this way maybe someone will read my post that wouldn't have read it otherwise. It's a win-win. Of course, I'd love to have people subscribe to my blog and want to read all my posts, but for this stage in my writing, Twitter is a great way to share my blog posts. (Facebook is great for this, too, except I feel that it doesn't have as high of a turnover rate, so I feel a little more guilty posting the same thing more than once. Can anyone else back me up on this sentiment?)

In a wonderful coincidence, I stumbled upon the perfect blog post by Frank Viola (a much more credible writer than myself) laying out very similar reasons supporting Twitter's greatness. You can check it out here if you're interested.

Do you like Twitter? If so, what do you like about it? If not, why not?

If you'd like, you can follow me on Twitter here. I can't promise I won't mention Justin Bieber.

Disturbing Headline of the Day

It's been a while since I've posted a Disturbing Headline of the Day, but I thought this one would make a good return to the series:

Robot Ostrich Will Probably Outrun You

There are several things I find hilarious and/or perplexing in this headline.

1) Picturing a robot ostrich. Ostriches are kind of ridiculous-looking on their own--I mean, their knees bend backwards and they're pretty much all leg. I'm not even sure how you would run if your knees bent backwards, now that I think about it, but ostriches defy the odds. They also have crazy eyes (see above), so I'm pretty sure they'd go AWOL on you in a quick minute. So I think it's safe to say a mechanical ostrich would have to be just plain scary. Think of the increased ability to destroy. The increased force (due to being composed entirely of metal) combined with the sheer insanity of a regular ostrich is enough to make me run the other way. Which brings me to my next point.

2) "Probably" outrun you. I like that the writer of this article doesn't want to underestimate your ability to run faster than an ostrich, so they get a "probably" in there just to cover the bases. I also like picturing someone racing a robot ostrich. It's just good fun. In what scenario would you even need to outrun an ostrich? Though, given the aforementioned crazy eyes, I can see how something seemingly ordinary could go south pretty quickly-- for instance, if you and the ostrich were having a pleasant time enjoying each other's company, and suddenly you accidentally "look at him wrong" and he turns on you. I suppose then you would have to outrun him. I don't want to know what happens when an angry ostrich catches up with you.

3) Why? Why are we spending valuable time and money developing this technology? Does anyone really need a robot ostrich? Don't get me wrong. If they set up a robot-ostrich-riding booth at a fair or something, I'd totally get in line. (Who wouldn't?) But I'm sure that's hardly enough reason to get someone to invest in Robostrich. Yep. I'm calling it Robostrich.

I'm pretty sure I'm just going to skim the rest of this article because imagining the possibilities is always more fun than whatever the actual story is.

If you have any proposed uses for Robostrich, please feel free to share.

The Mustache: A Cultural Analysis

Mustaches are the new owls. If you're a girl and you have Pinterest, you probably know what I mean by that.

If you're not, allow me to explain.

Since the awakening of stylish craft and DIY blogs, there has always been a preferred animal of choice with which to decorate handmade pillows, iPhone cases, clutches...you name it. If it was made of felt, you'd better have a cute silhouette of an animal on it. Not just any animal though. First it was birds (which spawned one of my favorite things, Put a Bird on It). It has branched off into several equally cute and dainty animals like turtles and foxes. Then, most recently, the owl has made its way into the scene. I am in no way against this. Owls are cute, guys. Well, felt owls are cute. Real owls--not so much. (see image below).

Right? See how it's staring at you with its (hilarious) cross-eyed glare? Yikes. Unless of course we're talking about Hedwig, who is a totally legitimate exception because she is a hero sidekick.

[NOTE: I feel obligated to tell you the owl in the above photo is named Archimedes, according to the website I got it from.]

Back to my point. The newest installment of this emblem-on-everything that I am aware of is The Mustache. The only way I can think to explain this is to review the role of the mustache in popular culture in recent years.

This is a regular mustache (read: nearly always creepy unless you are approximately 65 or older, in which case there are exceptions):

Note: When Brad Pitt can't even pull it off, you know it's pretty bad.

This is the extra-creepy Creeper Stache:

I realize I probably should've cropped this to get rid of the ridiculous URL at the bottom, but I think it adds to the mustache's lack of appeal.

Recently we've taken an interesting turn in which we've seen the rise of the Ironic Mustache, which has taken the nation by storm (or at least Nashville's hipster culture, which I only make fun of because I secretly have a crush on it):

I think the Ironic Mustache was probably the turning point in which we started to see the mustache's triumphant entry into acceptable culture. The mustache began to be seen as not-always-creepy and kind of quirky.

This quirkiness has somehow become endearing, and the mustache silhouette has been girl-ified into a symbol of trendiness (what? that's a phrase...). And the result is where we are now:

I'm okay with this. (Who wouldn't want to see a baby with a mustache?)

The other day I was on the elevator at work with some of my peers (or perhaps not, since I called them "peers"...) and overheard them talking about a "mustache party." Intrigued, I sideways-glanced over to see a girl flashing a super-cute invitation covered in little black mustaches, accented with pink ribbon. After the initial, "Oh my gosh! Cute!" comments faded, one girl says to the other holding the invitation, "So...what are you supposed to do?" Other Girl: " I dunno...just wear mustaches or something."

I love pop culture.

Congratulations, Mustache! Enjoy this time in the spotlight, because it's probably only a matter of time before we all collectively remember what you really are--hair on a man's upper lip--and go back to cute animals. Godspeed.

A Common Thread

Kardashian. Just reading that word, you probably did one of two things: 1) rolled your eyes and considered X-ing out of my blog immediately, or 2) well, I'm not really sure what the alternative is, since I would have likely been in the first camp.

So many connotations to that name. Especially right now. If you're still reading this post despite the Kardashian-overload in the media the last few days (and every other day), bless you.

I had no intentions on weighing in on this whole 72-day-divorce debacle until I recently read a couple things about it that made me think, but hopefully not in the way you are expecting.

I in no way condone divorce as an acceptable solution to struggles in marriage (though I do realize sometimes it's not as simple as that), but in reading a short article on CNN detailing a few of Kim's statements about the situation, I couldn't help but empathize with her on one thing.

One of her quotes in the article said that she knew she should have ended her relationship sooner--before the marriage--but she just got caught up in the hoopla of the wedding and was afraid to disappoint people.

Wow. How many times in our lives have you and I felt the exact same way? How many times have you felt "too far into" something to quit or change your mind, for fear of what others would say, or fear of them being disappointed in you?

I can relate to that feeling. Putting more weight on the expectations of your friends, family, coworkers--or even strangers--than what you know in your heart to be right for you, or you know God is telling you to do.

But when you find the courage in your soul to step out in faith and do what you know is right, in the face of the real possibility that you might not be fulfilling the expectations others have for you, you might find that the people you're closest to will surprise you. And if they don't, and you end up having to walk just you and God for a while, you can rest in the fact that your faith grew that day, and He is always with you. Always.

Though of course I have no idea what Kim believes or whether God was consulted in her decision, her explanation made total sense. We have so many common experiences and feelings on this earth as human beings. This is just one more that reminds me we are all in this together, and we all need God's grace.

Have you ever felt you needed to do something but were afraid of not meeting others' expectations for you? What was the outcome?

Keep Calm and...Tone It Down.

By now we’ve all seen the “Keep Calm and Carry On” poster (pictured above) floating around the internet and Barnes and Nobles across the country (that is, if you can still find one in your city.)

The first time I saw something in this vein was in a bookstore, but the one I saw said “Keep Calm and Have a Cupake,” a sentiment which I fully support. I laughed on the inside, considered buying a notebook, then decided it wasn’t worth it and moved on.

Since then, and in large part to Pinterest, I have seen countless variations on this phrase, and as of recently I have come to the conclusion that it is wildly out of control.

Seriously. I searched “keep calm” on Pinterest, and here are just a few of the hundreds of versions I found:

Keep Calm…

…and Marry On (gag.)

…and Play Music

…and Get Tattoos

…Harry is still single (Oh yes, they went there.)

…and Sporcle On (I had to look up what this meant. It wasn’t interesting.)

…and Save the Redheads (which, I feel, isn’t really coherent)

…and Sew On

…and Know that I am God (Yep. They went there, too.)

…and Gobble On (You know the novelty has worn off when it starts getting holiday-themed. Does this sentence even make any sense?)

My personal favorite was one that was simply formatted like the original, but read:

Freak out and throw stuff.

Now, I’m not mad at these people. In fact, I’m not really even annoyed. I’m just tired. I really don’t think I can handle any more, and frankly, does anyone still think this is cute?

Also, did no one copyright this? Seems like someone is missing out on a major money-making opportunity here.

EDIT: Okay, when searching for the image above, I learned (via Wikipedia, the source of all useless knowledge) that this poster actually originated during WWII from the British government in an attempt to boost morale of the British public. And now the design is in the public domain. Hm. Who knew? And look what it has become. This post somehow just got totally sad. Sorry for the bummer, guys.

Anyway. I digress. All that to say, I respectfully submit that the current producers of these posters cease and desist. It had a great run, really. I enjoyed it the first few times. And now that I know the origin, I kind of like the original a little more. But I think it’s time to salute and retire “Keep Calm and [insert anything in the world here].”

Did anyone else know about the WWII reference? What do you think—time to let it go, or is it still solid?

DHOTD - Rural Tennessee Edition

I’d originally planned on doing this post about the introduction of a “Martha Stewart and Friends” cartoon depicting her as a small child (disturbing enough on its own), but when I saw this headline the other day via Nashvillest, I had to use it.

Wild Hogs Taking Over Tennessee Counties

Here is what I picture when I read this headline: a herd of mangey yet fierce animals, reminiscent of Pumbaa though hardly as lovable, waving torches in the air whilst rampaging through corn fields on their hind legs. Their yellow beady eyes (all scary animals have yellow eyes, don’t they?) are lit up by the moonlight, (I also imagine it is night time, because otherwise why would they have torches?) and shouts of “rawrrrr!” (all scary animals also say “rawr”) fill the air.

This scenario also reminds me of the angry mob that goes after The Beast in Beauty and The Beast. You’ll notice most of my imaginary-scene references are to Disney characters. This is an accurate representation of my inner self.

Anyway. Here is the real story if you are interested in reading it (though it is not nearly as exciting as the vivid dramatization I have just laid out before you).

Perhaps my favorite part of the real story is this quote:

“They’re here, and I imagine the rest of my career I will be fighting them here in the county,” Ventura said.

I love the imagery that he sets up (albeit unintentionally) by saying “the rest of my career I will be fighting them.” Let’s imagine again, shall we? Ventura, standing atop a hillside with one hand on his hip and the other holding some sort of spear (noble hunters use spears in my imagination), cape flapping in the wind, dedicating the rest of his life to protecting rural Tennessee from the havoc-wreaking wild hogs. Stepping up to be the self-sacrificing hero. I am now realizing that the type of hero that carries a spear is probably not the same type as the one that wears a cape, but I never said my imagination was congruent.

But not to worry, the great state of Tennessee is on it, having reclassified the wild hogs as “nuisance animals” earlier this year. As if “nuisance” even begins to describe the mob of scoundrels barraging the corn fields as I have previously related. A “nuisance animal” would be that mosquito that you know is still floating somewhere in your house because you bug bites keep mysteriously appearing in random places like the bottom of your foot (which makes no sense whatsoever as you have been wearing socks all day). I feel like a 400-pound wild hog should be considered a “panic-and-call-the-Hog-Hunter” type of animal. Hog Hunter. I like the sound of that. Reality show anyone?

Why I think people get Adele

There’s a lot of noise out there.

People screaming so loud just trying to be heard, as if they are waving their hands wildly in the air, all the while each wearing a crazier outfit than the one before… to be noticed.

But in a weird sort of irony, the one who stands out amongst the chaos is actually one who speaks softly (yet strongly).

I think this is one reason Adele appeals to so many. (Besides her obvious talent musically.)

I recently watched her MTV VMA performance and couldn’t help but notice that her subdued yet powerful and honest performance cut through Chris Brown’s acrobatics, Lady Gaga’s male alter-ego, and the array of flashy dancers accompanying Pit Bull.

Amidst all the noise, Adele just keeps soldiering on, doing what she does day in and day out. I can’t help but think she probably wouldn’t mind if all the fame went away tomorrow. She would keep standing there in front of a mic, wearing a classy black dress and singing her heart out, even if no one was listening.

People resonate with that. I think sometimes there’s so much chaos going on around us that when someone is just standing there singing with a genuine heart, eventually the noise fades out and we stop and listen.

People want to see genuine. They connect with it because it is no longer the norm but it’s something we long for in a world full of mask-wearers (ourselves included).

It goes to show that though it may seem like our culture has just completely checked out when it comes to depth, honesty and truth, people will still respond to those things. We just have to give them the opportunity to hear it.

Why do you think our culture has welcomed Adele amongst the Gagas and the Nikki Minaj’s? [Note: I do think both of these people are still very talented.]

Disturbing Headline of the Day

TSA: Man had reptiles in his pants First I would just like to say: REPTILES. PLURAL.

Not just one reptile, which I think is safe to say would be plenty, but reptiles. In his pants.

Questions I would like answered:

1. Where is he going with these reptiles? Is his mission so top-secret that he feels he must attempt to hide said reptiles in his Dockers? What about pet carriers?

2. Where has this man been for the last year and a half? Has he just completely just checked out when it comes to TSA body scanners and pat downs? Did he not think that even if he opted for a pat down, the reptiles may actually be provoked by the TSA agent’s gloved hands tap, tap, tapping on their heads? Did he not consider what to do in the event that one of these iguanas (I’m picturing iguanas) went rogue and blew his cover by trying to bite the agent’s hand and/or escape the pantalones?

3. Has no one stopped to think about the poor iguanas in this situation? Seriously, they had to hide inside a heavy man’s pants (I’m also picturing a heavy man because he would obviously have more room in his pants for the iguanas) where he is inevitably sweating because he is trying to casually stroll through airport security with prehistoric creatures strapped to his legs. Which would never work.

They don’t even let you take 3.5oz of Head and Shoulders through security these days, heavy man. Iguanas? Really? (Note: If you find out that the reptiles were not, in fact, iguanas, nor was the man heavy, please don’t tell me.)

Poorly thought out; poorly executed. But I suppose it took courage to saunter up to the security line, snickering to yourself because the person next to you has no idea there are living, breathing animals in your pants. So, kudos to you, heavy man. Kudos to you.

Shark Week

Ah, Shark Week. It makes its triumphant return this week, barreling into our Twitter feeds, TVs and hearts with abandon.

Shark Week is a phenomenon I don’t understand, but I can appreciate the fact that we live in a country where an entire week of television programming can be 100% dedicated to footage of a deadly sea creature ripping off limbs and marine biologists trying to convince us that said creatures are merely misunderstood and not in need of a major attitude adjustment. (Clearly the “go big or go home” philosophy is not lost on us.)

I don’t know the history of Shark Week or how long it’s been a thing, because I’ve only had Twitter for about two years, and I never watch Discovery Channel. But I do know that it has awakened this collective love of all things shark in the hearts of the American public, which kind of makes me want to be a part of it. [I love pop culture phenomenons that can be mentioned in any setting, and almost everyone around you will get the reference (see: bed intruder song; anything Harry Potter).]

It’s okay, though. I get it. I’m a “dog person.” I like animals that do not generally threaten my existence when I find myself within a 50-foot radius of them. I’m not, however, what I am heretofore referring to as a “shark person” (which is something entirely different from a “shark-person”). Noun; One who enjoys learning fun facts about and/or interacting with sharks; see also: flirts with death.

Anyway. All that to say, I’m not against Shark Week, there’s just nothing within me that emphatically yells, “I love sharks and I want to view them in their natural habitats!” So, Shark Week Lovers, I ask you: am I missing something? Is there a redeeming quality to sharks that I am clearly overlooking? Will this weeklong shark-tacular in actuality not just increase my fear of oceans? In all sincerity, I want to know. Leave me a comment and let me know why you love Shark Week.

Happy Shark Week to all you “shark people” out there!

HGTV

So lately we have been watching a lot of HGTV. If you’ve ever watched HGTV, chances are you are still watching it. They suck you in by not making you watch credits in between shows. They seriously just start the next show immediately and shove a 1-minute overview in your ear before you can change the channel or turn it off, and soon enough you’re too invested in the featured couple’s jank (soon-to-be-fabulous) rental space or new life in Denmark to just walk way. How will we live if we don’t know what house they pick??? If you must leave, you simply hit “record” and come back to it later for your resolution, then when you turn back to live TV, it’s still set on HGTV, and the cycle starts all over again.

We’re probably just going to turn into design experts through osmosis.

Anyway.

While this is what I would consider a huge step up in terms of adulthood compared to my usual Disney Channel (Wizards of Waverly Place is ending soon so all I will be left with is Good Luck Charlie, which is not a close 2nd), it does come with one downside.

I now expect all houses to be awesome.

If they are not awesome, someone should make it over and it should end up being awesome.

I’m pretty sure when we eventually look for a house in our price range, I will be sorely disappointed.

Especially since now they (read: HGTV; see also: The Man) show us multi-million-dollar vacation homes in Maui that families get to spend a week in. Not helping.

I will say though that I don’t care about having a huge house. And I don’t really care about having stainless steel appliances, or even granite for that matter (though it would be nice). And I actually kind of like carpet (which is apparently not all the rage in design-land). At least in bedrooms if nothing else. But the house must be cute on the outside or it means nothing to me. And that might be a problem.

Anyway, good luck to Craig who will likely have to convince me to get a house that may not be precious enough.

Did I mention that this whole Pinterest ordeal has done nothing but feed this unrealistic image in my head about what a house should look like? Everything is pretty and I want it all in one house.

Sigh.

Last night we sunk to a new low and set up a DVR series recording on Design Star. Seriously? What is happening to us? If you give a moose a House Hunters…

Pandora

Songs my Pandora station has played that made me wish I had a “repeat” button: -“I want it that way”

-“Little Lion Man”

-Anything by Third Eye Blind

Things my Pandora station has played that made me wish I had an “obliviate” button:

-Something about an axe by Yngwie Maimsteen (Real. Name. So many questions…)

-18 different versions of Coldplay’s “Clocks” and/or “The Scientist”

-Pretty much every CCM song from 1998 it decides I must like because I like Derek Webb.

-Simple Plan.

Artists/songs my Pandora station somehow has come to the conclusion that I cannot live without:

-Mat Kearney (own none of his albums)

-Coldplay (as evidenced by the aforementioned songs in the “obliviate” category)

-U2 (Okay, I like U2 as much as the next girl but really? Every third song is some obscure non-hit. Where’s the “One?” Where’s the “Elevation?” Get it together, Pandora.)

-Indie folk and/or techno-pop-rock bands from other countries (Just because I gave a thumbs up to The Killers and one song by The Weepies does not mean I want to sit through that nonsense.)

-3 different versions of “Falling Slowly” (Seriously. One by The Frames, one by Glen Hansard, and one by Kris Allen. It was fun the first time, but now I’m regretting ever giving that song a thumbs up…)

Songs my Pandora station occasionally plays that make me think it can see into my past:

-Anything by Story of the Year

-“Flavor of the Week” by American Hi-Fi

-“Just the Girl” by Click 5

-“Drive” by Incubus

-“Hemorrhage (In my Hands)” by Fuel

Needless to say, I have a love/hate relationship with Pandora. Especially since it only gives me 40 hours per month for free. Hope you have a great weekend!

Disturbing Headline of the Day

It’s been a while since I’ve posted a Disturbing Headline of the Day, but this is mostly due to the fact that I was suffering from CNN overload and decided to take a break from reading the news every day. It was just getting depressing and/or frightening knowing every bad thing that happens, so I just decided to choose not to read it so much. Judge if you must. Your DHOTD:

Kid Sells Kidney for iPad 2, Regrets Transaction

I think the person who came up with this headline should get a gold star. I just love the: “*pause*… regrets transaction.” It’s as if they’re kind of laughing on the inside even though this story is terribly sad and all kinds of illegal. Or it’s as if there’s some subliminal sad-trombone going on in the background.

Also I think the fact that this majorly serious, drastic exchange it is simply referred to as a “transaction,” as if you were just buying some batteries at Kroger, just speaks volumes.

Anyway apparently this poor sweet (in pat-him-on-the-head, ignorance-is-bliss sort of way) 17-year-old iPad-coveting kid sold his kidney for about $3100 on the black market at a questionable “hospital” and did not tell his mom about it.

She noticed. But not because he assumably had stitches, or she hadn’t seen him in a while. She noticed that he had an iPad and that, my friend, seemed fishy. He then apparently told her the truth and they called the authorities.

I’m just not sure whether to laugh or cry at this story, but it was disturbing nonetheless.

Read the full story here.