D.O.A a la the French

Lately- I would say the last 10 years - there has been a slow mutiny from the norm emerging in the mainstream music world that includes a certain electronic instrument, if you will. Auto tunes, or the proprietary auto processor, has become a clutch and escape for sub par vocalists to dodge real talent and real talent to dodge getting boring.

Read: A gimmick.

We all know (and have shaken our ass to) T-Pain. He's in Love with a Stripper, Sprung, Chopped N Skrewed, and I Can't Believe It, he wants to Buy You A Drink. All of which he has done with the joys of auto tune. Successful? Heck yes! Actual talent? Meh. Although I will give him undeniable props for making so many absolute hits; you want a #1, put T-Pain on it.

While I too have been guilty of enjoying the 'hits' that come from this axis of evil, I will take a genuine cope out and proclaim it is not entirely my fault. Not when every other song on the radio has been filtered through this magic box and perfected to a T with great pitch and vocals.

In fact, Kanye West-the latest leader in the sans bellicose revolution-asked T-Pain to mentor him in his attempts at auto tune on his recent 808's & Heartbreak. Definitely a success: Heartless, Amazing and Robocop (the live version preferably) is simply sincere poetry put to music ­and shifted through auto tunes to get all the loose sediments and rubble out of the way.

Still, with all the hits and #1's on the whoevers-couting-the-hits-and-#1's-list, I am excited about the impending slow D.O.A. Maybe a gruesome beheading a la the feisty French in their
equally important revolution? And if not for the total demise of auto tunes, then I will gladly settle for a less concentrated dosage of the magic box- ­too much has given me the plague.

Certainly Jay-Z -Hova if I may- has had enough: he kindly pronounced the time of death on June 6 and stands that "The guys who did it, did it great," but that's where it ends. "They got their little niche, lets move on. That's just my opinion. I don't know if everybody feels the same way"

We do.

And now, a moment of silence...

The Perks of Living in a City: Hole Mole!

Its Sunday.
The weekend has been favorable toward me.
Except last night.

Fast forward 6 hours: West Hollywood, herbal,cheap vodka, and a chaser of drama.

So I awake today at 2 in the noon. Starving and lethargic, thinking where am I going to get food?

Thn I remembered one of the Perks of Living in a City:

1. Corner fast food.

My prescription - Hole Mole on 4th.

:-)!!!!

S.O.S: Just Having Fun

As a preemptive strike to the chaos that is bound to ensue in Vegas, I have been causing my own ruckus around town.

Ok so my ‘town’ is nothing like Vegas and my ‘ruckus’ has all been sober-driven BUT a little exaggeration never killed anyone.

I’ve spent most of my dating years love stoned with some boy or other, and have never really enjoyed the process of single-girl dating; ‘prowling’ as our empowered species is inclined to say.

Alas, thanks to the cosmic wonders (and my science classes being over!) I have some highly coveted time in my life to pull a Dora the Explorer and seek out some men.

First up: the Professional. I met him in a, err um, office setting and he’s quite the career minded individual. While I have known of him for over a year, we didn’t actually click until recently (convenient no?) and all is well. He has this arrogant sense of knowing everything and being entitled to whatever he wants. Greed? No. Confidence? Too much. Yet still, he is playful, sarcastic and ready. Sometimes, that’s just what the doctor ordered.

Then, I have my Rock Star. With blue eyes and dark hair a la Tyson Ritter, he’s awesome: sincere, intense, fun, spontaneous and yes – he’ s really in a band. He’s resides in the City of Angeles and is usually calling me for all the right reasons, which I love. Still, the con of all cons seems to be time and how we can steal some. He’s off doing local shows in Venice and Im home sleeping so I can get up for The Man who signs my checks. Sigh – how I’d love to

rock n’ roll all night.

And to wonderfully round things out, there’s my tried and true NY import. He’s in the OC via the East Coast and how I love to get a quick visit of the Big Apple whenever I can. Five years and counting have put us through some major times and yet we find ourselves always on good terms and having fun. But I wonder, should something pop off finally or let the wheels (on his sexy Audi) roll where they may?

Oh girls we just want to have fun…that’s all we really want.

I will let the Cosmos work things out. In the meantime, and largely in-between time, I am adjusting to me, and what it is that I want. What I want this second, and what I want later when the timing is right. I think they call this stage rebounding?

Viva Las Vegas!

It's about that time again...

Yes - time to go crazy and have no shame in Vegas. Do believe: I plan to do just that.

Next week is my annual company trip to Sin City with a luxurious stay at the Four Seasons. But that's not all folks!

We will also have an open bar all weekend, prime seats for the Cris Angel Mindfreak show, lasar tag, a wonderful Four Season Spa facial, a 5-course meal with accentuating wines and last but not least, shopping.

Exhausted just thinking about it...stay tuned for details and pics!

In the meantime...a little taste of last year:

S.O.S: In the midst of a bad decision; Pt 1?

60-day 'he-tox' my ass!

I made it 2 weeks and, sigh; I gave in like an old IKEA futon at a frathouse.

To my credit, it was not a blatant giving in .­ I didn't do what I did with the intention of doing it. Ugh, here I go, beating around the bush and trying, even with Internet strangers, to rationalize my naughty behavior.

I called/text/visited my ex.
Yes ­ all three cardinal sins at once; I'm just asking for a heart attack,right!?

Here's how it went down: Legitimately, I had to go to my old town to pick upa school assignment a nice classmate offered to proof read. And, I threatened myself with no food for a week if I also didn't go to a gym before heading home. Equally legit, days after moving, I realized I had actually left a few things in the old apartment that I would need to go back for and soon; one of the things I left was luggage I would need for an up-coming Vegas trip. So here I am, in-between the gym and my old co-op dream apartment; like a moth to a flame my wheels turned toward the latter. Without a pre-emptive call or text or evencourtesy smoke signals I just drove up.

Seeing his shiny black car with it's signiture plate must have shocked me into reality that oh shit he's really home. I don't know what I was expecting if he wasn't? Perhaps just to linger and reminisce a bit...Anyway he was home, so assumingly typical of all ex-girlfriends-who-accidentally-become-stalkers, I panicked a bit. As I backed my car out of any view of the apartment, I wondered if I should call,or what to say if I did, or if he would answer.

I called; no answer.
Sigh I text; "Hey. I would like to know if I could come to the apt to get somethings I left please." Simple. To the point. Right? Right. Hold back any evidence of a partial break down that was on the brink of occurring.
He replied: "No, I will be home tomorrow."Hmm. His car was here so...oh no! Days of reading over analyzed man-blogs from magazines were catching up with me. What does that mean? He¹s here now?! I could feel dramatic anxiety building up and I quickly hated myself for even doing this.
I text back: I am close by, are you unavailable?" Survey says: "No I am unavailable." Looking back I concluded that there are a few possible reasons he could claim unavailability.
1. He has been chilling around the house and sans a shower, did not want to see me post-break up and smelly. Of course I did...
2. He had guests (*insert a silent prayer that it was not a female*) and having me over, especially with friends who knew of 'us' would be beyond awkward. Especially unannounced.
3. He really was unavailable: getting ready for work, or had prior plans.
Although, simply picking up a few things would take mere moments.

As I descended into reality, all my thumbs could fumble was "Ok thank you."

Like all crazy freaks of nature, I am still wondering what made me do this.Why would I subject myself to the anguish, anxiety and anticipation of whatis bound to be a blow to the uphill battle of getting over him? Why, when I know that, love him or not, I should have kept my distance and simply asked him to place in at the front door? Unattached to 'our' old home, 'our' old memories and most dangerously, to him?
Why? Because Im a girl in love and like most things that are pure acts of chance and destiny, I cant explain my actions.

Im just still in love.

S.O.S: Rehab

Monday's are double ball buster's lately because your's truly has a four hour class for Speech. *insert synchrinized shuttering*
On the bright side, what better block of time to catch up on my 'sex & love' reading on Glamour.com. Today's juicy discovery: "he-tox".
To put it in it's fitting context, the short article was the opinion of authors G. & A.R Behrendt, who gracfully wrote "It's Called a Breakup Because It's Broken: The Smart Girl's Breakup Buddy." In it, the duo boasts of the 60-day "he-tox" in which a girl must keep her distance from her ex-boo for at least 60-days.

EEK- I thought. 60 days!

Then again, that's simply two months. Looking back, my ex and I broke up once in late summer and didn't start 'talking' until November. Well over 60-days.
Sign Even with our seminal anniversary in October.
So...
perhaps this "he-tox" is possible.

S.O.S: A tardy independence day

While the rest of America was celebrating our continental Independence from the cheeky boys overseas, I was claiming my own domestic stake in the whole ordeal.
On July 4th 2009, I moved into my first place.
More officially, today is the culmination of my first week as a quasi home 'owner' and of my single mindset. My solo living, table for one, uno pizza all day, every day.
As some scoff at my endeavor -"Congrats" I can hear them sarcastically mumbling as they read this - I am all too pleased with my moderately young success and freedom. To think, this all began as a 'rebellious' 17 year old with a 1994 Taurus...
I digress
This week has been very interesting and not without its customary challenges:
After 'deep-cleaning" my renovated turn-of-the-century apt, I happily moved all of my things in and began getting settled. By getting settled,I mean building my bed and promptly sleeping on it. Monday arrived with a seemingly smooth drive into work; a meager 25 minute drive from my front door to the employee parking garage. Every day has pretty much been the same as far as traffic. In addition to moving residences, I took on 2 more classes, math and speech, and those in conjunction with my biology and geography classes, I'm pretty much whipped. Daily. However, the latter two are ending soon, to my enjoyment. The week ended unceremoniously, as most of them do, with a basketball game and some herbal social gatherings.
Still, even with my excitement and starting anew, I have had a moment or two of missing 'it'. It is relative, I suppose, to the varying people who find themselves missing some. For me, 'it' is my old kitchen and bathroom, my old window that looked onto the pool and large trees; the breeze that escaped through those tress and snuck into my room for comfort and hospitality. As I open my new front door, with its white symmetrical squares and gold handle, 'it' longingly reaches for the old door; green and inviting with a silver modern and simplistic touch. The same door that we opened March 22 and closed May 18. Short yet truly sweet.
I digress
'It' has come and gone, and while I am sure that my nostalgic memories will cease to fail me and instead rehash those Utopias times, I find myself here in my apartment, enjoying the silence in my home and the city lights outside my window, the breeze filled with salt and ocean. I look forward to hanging more pictures, building more Swedish goods, and finding me outside of everything 'it' was 'we' had. Making sure I am something without having to add a 'him' to make me a whole. One part creativity, two parts sincerity, and three parts happiness. For me, 'it' should always end with happiness...