Here’s the problem with Young Adult. Yes, I loved it. But it completely ruins my fantasies of an Emily Teachout biopic, because protagonist Mavis Gary is basically me. Me now, and quite possibly me later (she’s 37). A movie about my life would just be a cheap remake set in Seattle. From the very first part of the opening scene, my viewing companion and oldest friend, Dayna, was like “Yes… YES… THIS IS YOU.” We were cracking up in the theatre and generally being very obnoxious, but we couldn’t help it. It’s true. Everything!

Mavis wakes up in full morning-after attire; clothed, face down in a tousled bed, while E! reality show Kendra blares on a TV in the background. Sound familiar? Oh, maybe because that’s how I wake up most mornings. (And let’s not talk about how much Kendra I watch on a weekly basis, yikes.)

Mavis trudges into the liquor bottle-strewn kitchen and downs a refreshing morning Diet Coke. We can all recognize the abundance of times that my only breakfast is a cold, calming, carbonated tsunami of DC down my throat.

Mavis, a writer, sits down and opens her laptop. She struggles to write even one page. Although a deadline is looming over her head, she is immediately distracted by multiple windows of internet trash, including an email inbox full of designer shopping newsletters and stupid dating websites. Um, welcome to my day-to-day.

Mavis complains to her friends about the lives and triumphs of people from her past, even though she is much more successful on paper than most of the people she went to school with. She sits in bars and talks to dudes even though she has no interest in what they’re saying; she simply downs vodka while pretending to care about their philanthropic trips to third world countries. This is my social life in a nutshell.

I already feel slightly bad about this “lifestyle” and I am only 25. (Quickly approaching 26, though. Noooo!) Mavis is 37. In ten-ish years, am I still going to be a Young Adult?

Dayna assured me that while I have many Mavis-like habits (unapologetically wearing Uggs, being a bad driver, lazily trashing a hotel room for no reason, drinking Makers Mark like it’s water), I would never stoop to the appalling depths she does in the latter part of the movie. Honestly, though, Dayna’s assessment of my self control might be wrong.  I have said, done, and thought some pretty horrible things in my time. I think we all have. The more I live, the more I realize: you can hope for the best, but you really can’t rule anything out.

Sure, I was struck by the character of Mavis not only because of our amusing, superficial similarities, but it’s not only that; I empathize. There is a conversation between so-called successful, glamourous Mavis and plain small-town girl Sandra:

I don’t think any scene in a movie has rang more true for me. Many reviewers find Mavis to be a contemptible character. I can definitely see why she’s unlikeable. But I like her. I get it. It’s really hard to grow up. It’s really hard to find and accept true happiness. Like Mavis, I’m not into babies, I’m not into suburban satisfaction, yet I’m weirdly envious and involved and yes, I’ll say it, jealous(!) of people who are fulfilled by those social mores. I know I’m highly intelligent, but at the same time I like highly superficial things. I will always enjoy Diet Coke and E! channel and eschew strip malls and Pier One decor.

It’s scary. I don’t want to end up like Mavis when I’m in my late 30s. But I don’t want to end up like her innocent nemesis, sweet suburban mother Beth, either. I guess all I can hope for is that my eventual biopic won’t turn out to be a Young Adult remake after all, because I will make different and better decisions that land me somewhere in the middle of the two women’s lives.

In the meantime, while the world waits to see how my life ends up, why don’t you all treat yourself to the movies! Go see Young Adult. A+.

Oh, wait, what I meant was, haters be hating.

My comedic “rap” skillz have really done it this time. Some ridiculous side project for the agency I work for  has gone viral and now I am blowing up the internet and most people (well, overly-invested commenters on tech websites) seem to despise my swagger. This social media experiment was pretty under the radar until someone submitted it to Gizmodo, who deemed it “worse than your parents having sex,” then we were everywhere.

Including the Seattle Times and the Digital Life blog on the Today Show’s website, which is pretty sweet.

As my beloved friend and fellow rap aficionado Katie (aka Kitty Pretty Money Millionaire) says: “it’s easy to write a negative comment. i dont see those peeps online flossing their raps.”

TRUTH.

Yes, it’s pretty bad. Yes, it’s A JOKE! No, a lot of people don’t seem to understand that and I enjoy their outraged remarks.

Anyway, what does it feel like to have 130,000+ people watch me voluntarily acting stupid (all for the sake of a work assignment!) and then express their (largely negative and/or sexually degrading) opinions on everything from my sweater to my boobs to my voice? Pretty good! Why? Because I don’t care! Call me stupid (not true, I know I’m smart), call me fat (not true, I know I’m in great shape), call me suburban (HOW DARE YOU, I rep the heart of the city) call me irritating (okay, that is often true). It’s hilarious and surreal to know there are so many strangers out there thinking/judging this dumb video, and anyone who takes a sarcastic and admittedly annoying YouTube to heart is completely missing the point. The only thing that hurts is when people say I am ruining rap. I LOVE AND RESPECT RAP.

Everyone knows the world of hip hop is full of feuds and vendettas. Haters are just part of the package. If I can keep this up, I’ll be able to release a fragrance at Macys and/or a line of semi-precious stone pendants on Amazon Jewelry by Christmas.

I mean, in the immortal words of my man 50:
If they hate then let ‘em hate/Watch the money pile up

Other people in my life are, unbeknownst to them, on the same page as me. (? Is “unbeknownst” a word? Spellcheck says it is not but I feel like I have seen it before. Too lazy to investigate further.) Last night I was at happy hour with some lady friends. Judy, who manages a Black House White Market, told us that a woman came into her store looking for a black dress to wear to a “gangster-style” wedding. I responded, “What kind of gangster, rap thugz gangsta, or  Boardwalk Empire mob gangster? Clearly one is superior to the other.” Unfortunately, the wedding was the latter and not the former. But I think we all know which I would/will choose for MY wedding!

Our wedding portrait. I know y'all thought he was married to Tiny, but it was just an elaborate ruse so we could plan our ceremony in secret.

Here’s the plan. I will represent West Coast and my impending husband (T.I. duh) will represent East Coast. Yes, I realize that T.I. is from Georgia, but no one ever heard of a West Coast vs. South battle, so he will just have to pretend. Anyway, each side of the bridal party will wear the airbrushed RIP shirts honoring deceased rappers from their territory in lieu of bridesmaid dresses and suits. Then, as the processional (obviously Pac’s Life, feat. Ashanti and T.I., how appropriate) begins, T.I. will turn towards the doors, eager to see his beautiful bride (ME!!!!!!!!!!) in her bedazzled RIP Nate Dogg one-piece velour jogsuit and gold heelz.

BUT – and who could have predicted this! – I enter wearing a flowy Disney Princess bridal gown and stare at the bridal party in horror. “What?! Who?! Wh-WHY?!” I scream, and throw down my perfect bouquet of baby pink roses. “What are you all wearing? What IS this?! What were you thinking?!?! Who is playing this joke on me?! OH my wedding day is RUINEDDDD!” I’ll howl, running out of the cathedral. The crowd, stunned, looks on in disbelief. How could this mix-up  have occurred? The entire congregation feels very guilty for ruining what undoubtedly would be the most important and special day of my entire life.

Then, just as everyone is about to exit in shame, the door busts back open! And here I am in all my bedazzled velour glory, in a full-on feather-and-beaded-braid weave, with tons of inappropriately dark lipliner, HOLDING A BERETTA and firing it into the air, forever ruining the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. “Awww, just playin, motherfuckers! Now let’s do this bitch RIGHT!” I holler.

I run down the aisle and marry T.I., and the whole world marvels at our West Coast/East Coast thug lyfe wedding and how the beautiful union of Emily + T.I. is a breathtaking and eye-opening representation of world peace, or at least peace between 90s rap feuds.

~THE END~

So, the royal wedding. Let’s talk. And by talk, I mean, let me yell this at you: WHY? Why do we care? I mean, great for them, I wish those guys happiness and peace and whatever, but how has this become top national/international news? I know I’m not the only one who feels this way. I have had this heated discussion about this very topic with fellow dissenters (see above for proof). My conversations with Caitlin, Patrick, and Caroline, all fellow “Will & Kate” haters, produced the hypothesis that for so many girls it’s the “fantasy” of the princess wedding and all that. But really? Do women hold onto that fantasy after early adolescence? Even my own mother told me she’s excited for wedding because she wants to see the dress. I mean, sure, I guess, but can’t you just look at that online later? Do we need to have a “Royal Wedding Planner” section on CNN?!

me: When Chelsea Clinton got married no one freaked out like this. And she’s basically… America’s princess hahaha
Caroline: I WAS THINKING THE SAME! YES hahah… but no, America’s Princess is clearly Lil Kim
me: Nicki Minaj might take her throne though. Just sayin
Caroline: but where has NM been? I haven’t heard from her in like a month. im concerned.
me: Yeah I demand constant contact. But she’s on tour, so I get it.
Caroline: oh is she on tour with Lil wayne? Also, what is going on with her and Drake. he totally wants to wife her up. i would wake up at 4am to watch that. can you imagine? the other rappers would shoot their glocks in celebration. and then someone will die. and then they will all get matching shirts.

And this is why America will always be the greatest country. Instead of political/familial royalty, we have HIP HOP ROYALTY and Caroline is right, you always know that eventually someone will get shot, then we all get to wear matching airbrushed ~never forget~ t-shirts. Sorry Mom, princess wedding dresses just can’t compare to the allure of a rap RIP remembrance tee.

BUT! Something has changed! I have been forced to break my own rules. The line-up for one of my blacklisted reality shows was announced a few weeks ago and who is one of the celebrity contestants?! Speaking of undying love for my GND alum, none other but my girl Kendra!!! I had to ask myself the sobering question every girl must face at some point in her life: Am I going to be a person who actually follows Dancing with the Stars?

I think we all know the what the answer would be. Still, I was in the third stage of the reality tv viewership experience: denial. …Oh, you aren’t familiar with the “stages of reality tv viewership module” that I just made up? It goes:

• 1. Discovery Hot gossip! One of your favorite celebs is on yet another flash-in-the-pan tv show. You are intrigued but annoyed.
• 2. Questioning Should you start watching? Shouldn’t you? Will you? I mean it’s kind of a time commitment…
• 3. Denial No, no, no. You will not watch this dumb show. You have way more productive things you should be doing. Like working out, or laundry, or watching the twelve other reality shows you already rabidly follow.
• 4. Temptation Well, you are pretty bored right now. Maybe you should just check it out online. Or ask your friends if they’re watching it. Can’t hurt, right?
• 5. Taste Test Fine. Just one peek. But just fast-forward to the one segment you actually need to watch. Or just see if you can YouTube the most important parts.
• 6. DVR Series Record Setting You’ll record it every week, but just in case you get extra bored. Except you secretly know this means you are totally watching every single episode, and now that it’s recorded you can rewind and relive your favorite parts! No one has to know! Except everyone totally does. Because you blog about it.

Anyway, I didn’t want to believe that I was actually going to start devoting 3+ hours of my week to DWTS. I ignored the premiere when it aired last Monday, but on Tuesday evening I found myself with some spare time. It started innocently enough, I just Googled “Kendra DWTS” to see how she fared… but before I even realized what I was doing, I had ventured to the ABC website and clicked “play” on the free streaming episode… it was quite the out-of-body experience. Before I knew it, two precious hours had flown by. Steps 4 and 5, the temptation and a little taste test, had quickly escalated into full-blown step 6…

DVRing that shit! Last night I recorded then watched the entire two hour episode! Two hours, you ask? YES!! Why? Because they shamelessly pad that show with so. much. trash. It’s seriously about 45 minutes of content, drawn out into a two-hour ordeal with advertising, ABC programming plugs, needless suspense, audience reaction shots, etc. I was so irritated with the entire experience, but at the same time… so invested! And I’m happy to report that Kendra got fairly decent scores and looked great doing it! (I know you were all wondering.)
The thing is, I know next to nothing about actual dance, so while Caitlin, who used to be a ballroom dance teacher and a competitive Irish dancer, was voicing constructive comments such as “She needs to point her feet” and “What great extension!” I was lounging on the couch making groundbreaking observations like “Oh weird, a Panic at the Disco cover song” and “I hate when people dress like clowns” …obviously this show is opening my eyes to the complex world of the performing arts.

How invested am I really, though? As I asked Caitlin last night: “Am I actually going to be one of those people who calls into DWTS to contribute to ‘America’s’ vote?!” Her response, unsurprisingly: “Ugh….”

One closing thought: Why do they call that place where the dancers get interviewed after performances the “Celebriquarium” ?! That doesn’t even make sense. I’m all for a bad pun, but that is the most awkward mash-up ever. I guess it’s better than “Dancerjail” or something. This show is absolutely ridiculous, and now I am encouraging them by giving them even more attention. Great.

On this season of Holly’s World, producers of Peepshow told Holly they wanted her to lose weight, which I found to be absolutely ridiculous. She is in a burlesque style show in Vegas, obviously being curvy is way more desirable than whittling yourself down to a stick figure. And certain bitches (Ugh, Jayde! Too bad she can’t hold a candle to Holly in the looks/smarts department) make catty comments about Holly needing to work out more… um, she is constantly rehearsing and dancing and running herself ragged at all these Vegas events. It’s not like she is chillin’ in a Hoveround, sucking down lard with a straw all day.

I am going on a tropical vacation next week and have been killing myself at the gym to look good in my new bikini. Besides extra training sessions and bootcamps, I’ve also been tanning, dieting, avoiding booze, etc… and if even Holly is getting criticized, there is absolutely no hope for me! I’m sure I still don’t look as good as she does below. Also, I find it refreshing and reassuring to see a beautiful woman who isn’t afraid to treat herself to some junk food or a tropical cocktail. Live a little! (Basically the only reason I have been so hard on myself pre-vaycay is so I can gorge myself while I’m on my trip without feeling too horribly guilty.)

Anyway. Here is a 100% unretouched picture of Holly from the latest issue of Life & Style, which I, as a trashy tabloid junkie, cannot wait to read. Isn’t this a girl you would love to see in Peepshow? I mean I’m as straight as they come and I can fully admit that Holly is H-O-T.

And yes, I am overly defensive of celebrities I’ve never met, but I like to live vicariously through them, so I get very offended when they are criticized and judged. We forget that even though they are in the limelight, celebs are people too! Stars… they’re just like us! (Except with reality tv shows.)

me: I’m so sad for her :(
Caroline: she is turning into Lindsay
me: NO she is not. She just had one slip-up
Caroline: thats all it takes!
Caroline: she is still a drunken mess!
me: AREN’T WE ALL, THOUGH?

I have put Christina Aguilera on a pedestal for so long. Now I am starting to question my entire belief system. The only way to put my thoughts and emotions into perspective is to conduct a point-counterpoint regarding modern-day Christina, comparing my life to hers and seeing who is really coming out on top.

Point: Christina is so beautiful! She has such a killer body and old-school glamour! I am just a regular person!
Counterpoint: Lately the web has been ablaze with criticism of her weight gain and sometimes over-the-top makeup. Granted, we all have our moments, and Christina is now a mother and getting into her 30s, so we can’t have unrealistic expectations here. Regrettably, it must be said that her body these days is considerably less bangin’ even than when she was doing Burlesque last year. Even so, she is very gorgeous. I am still just a regular person, but at least I have not gained any weight and no one makes fun of my lipstick, because I do not wear lipstick. Plus, did Xtina have a boob job?! I don’t know. But I didn’t.
CA vs ET: …nobody comes out on top in this battle. We are both just women doing the best we can.

Point: Christina has an amazing singing voice! She was invited to sing the national anthem at the Superbowl, do an Aretha Franklin tribute at the Grammys, has starred in countless music videos and gone on concert tours, including one with Justin Timberlake! All I get to do is karaoke… sometimes sing in the shower… sometimes blast the Comcast “Music Choice Hot Hits” station while I clean the house… and that’s about as close as I’ll ever get to musical superstardom.
Counterpoint: Yeah, but if I am singing karaoke and make a dumb mistake with the lyrics, no one cares or probably even notices. Christina messed up the lyrics to the national anthem and American reamed her for it. Then she did the Grammys and bizarrely fell down during the end of the tribute, and had to be helped up by Jennifer Hudson or someone. Embarrassing! At least all the stupid crap that happens at the Rickshaw when I “perform” my musical “talents” will never be in the public eye and is easily forgotten two seconds after it occurs.
CA vs ET: Once again, equal. Being famous is still awesome. But so is having your humiliations NOT immortalized and commented on by strangers on the internet who think they are entitled to have an opinion about you.

Point: Christina married for ~love~ and not looks/money and has the most adorable little son, Max! All my relationships (haha, “all”) are confusing and do not ever result in me getting a bridal spread in OK! magazine!
Counterpoint: Buuuuut then she and J.Bratman (who, let’s be honest, not exactly a stunner in the looks department) filed for divorce last year. And now she is a single mom who is already dating someone new, a dude who also seems to be a bit beneath her and also has a penchant for alcohol abuse. Hmmm Christina, is someone not valuing herself enough? I am not divorced. I also did not have a a hit single “Ain’t No Other Man” publicly praising the man I ended up divorcing.
CA vs ET: Emily wins?!

Point: Christina Aguilera has never been in a stupid celebrity DUI scandal. Of course, neither have I. Actually, come to think of it, I don’t think either of us have been in trouble with the po whatsoever.
Counterpoint: Oh yeahhh except for this morning… this happened. I can’t claim I have never shamed while drinking, but nothing to this degree whatsoever.
CA vs ET: Shockingly, Emily clearly comes out on top once more.

So while Christina Aguilera is clearly more famous and absolutely beautiful, is it possible that my life is going a little better than hers at this point?! No police run-ins while wasted, no divorce, no public scrutiny after messing up a high-profile performance… my life may not be all figured out, but at the same time it is not unraveling. I guess this means Christina needs my love and support more than EVER! Maybe I can be a good influence on her. For example, right now at 11am I am drinking a mug of hot water and eating a banana at my desk, in lieu of pounding a bottle of vodka in the car with my trashy rebound bf at 2am? Are you taking notes, Xtina?

On a related note, the DVD of Burlesque came out today. We are watching it tonight in Christina’s honor.

Jordan had informed me of the J! online test a few months ago, and Jeopardy! itself reminds me with incessant commercials when I watch it practically every single night, but I had still somehow avoided signing up for a chance to be on the show. Caroline told me she was taking it today, and I knew I had no choice. Let’s just face it, I am GOOD at Jeopardy. Maybe too good. And the amount of attractive, young female contestants is dismally low. The fact that I’m not 50+lb overweight and don’t have a “personal biography” about knitting and goldfish can only work in my favor. The “males age 18-34″ demographic would really skyrocket, in a time when Jeopardy! may be thought of as a bit dowdy and passe. A game show dinosaur, if you will. I know I could be the one to breathe new life into the franchise. I mean, right now they are resorting to robots. (not that I’m not EXTREMELY invested in the Jeopardy!/IBM challenge.)

BUT!!! Is this endeavor too risky?!?!??! If I try and fail the online test, I will be so ashamed of myself. BUT WHAT IF! What if I win the online test, then move onto the round 2 “screen test” then make that, then be on Jeopardy!??!?! Fame and fortune are MINE! But what if I am on Jeopardy! then I don’t win?! What then?! My whole life and intellectual esteem will be disgraced! I might as well jump off a cliff NOW and spare myself! I am so competitive and egotistical, I don’t know if I could take this. Plus the shame would be broadcast LIVE on national television and clearly allll my friends, family, and vague acquaintences will be watching because I will post about it on Facebook, text people, talk about it every day at work, and generally be as obnoxious and ubiquitous about this as possible.

AND THE PLOT THICKENS…. let this gchat show the worst part of it all.
me: BTW! “If you are selected to move to the next round, you could be contacted by the Jeopardy! Contestant Department anytime within one year of this test.” dlafkjdklfjkldfajkl;s I HAVE TO WAIT A YEAR TO KNOW?!
christa: hahahahaa. you’ll probably at least know if you get to the next round though right?
me: NO:
If you are selected to move to the next round, you could be contacted by the Jeopardy! Contestant Department anytime within one year of this test.
christa: wow.
me: Talk about having anxiety FOR A WHOLE YEAR
christa: hahahaha. so serious.
me: Every time I answer my phone… every time I open my email… WHAT IF IT IS THE JEOPARDY BOARD OF DIRECTORS?! I will never have inner peace again. And then what if a year goes by? What if it is February 10, 2012 and I haven’t heard from them?!?!??! I don’t think I could emotionally bear it. And then I will have wasted a whole year in anxious Jeopardy HELL. The lucky thing is, that’s 2012, so at least we’ll all be dead anyway. Technically I only have 10 months of anxiety awaiting me.
christa: it’s a good thing you’re going to see your therapist today.

So… Thursday. 8pm. We shall see. Don’t ask me how the test went, if it went well I’m sure everyone will know. And if not, I don’t want to talk about it and will deny that this ever happened. Or not, since I MIGHT NOT KNOW FOR A YEAR ANYWAY.

Anyway, once that hefty task was completed, Netflix broke the news that it had some new recommendations for me. Fair enough, Netflix, let’s see what you have in store this time…
Their number one suggestion for me was a creation by ABC Family channel that I had never heard of, a sparkling romantic comedy entitled “Beauty and the Briefcase” starring none other than Hilary Duff and Chris Carmack! Sadly – and unsurprisingly – I was immediately sold. Lizzie McGuire and Luke Ward, TOGETHER AT LAST?! Finally, the wondering was over, I knew exactly what I was going to do with my Sunday night while folding my laundry.

How was this groundbreaking cultural experience?! Everyone is dying to know. Well, it was what you’d think. Highlights include: Chris with a very fake British accent (…what?! YES! An unexpected but highly appreciated surprise), lots of overly sexual innuendo from Hils, a weird and crazily heavy-handed product placement/sponsorship from Cosmo magazine (in hopes of keeping a neutral front in the publication world, NO COMMENT on this strange turn) and a lot of interesting fashion choices. Oh, and horrible acting from F-list actors in supporting roles, but I think that one goes without saying.

All in all, a recipe for success! Why do I enjoy these things?! Why oh WHY do I still have the taste of a bitchy tween girl??!?! I don’t know, but I’ve decided to accept my fate. I need to remember to give this fine piece of art a 5-star rec on Netflix so they can suggest more low-budget made-for-tv movies for me to savor.

I also want Chris Carmack, fake accent or not, but I think we already knew that by this point.