Dammit Beyonce!! You had me at "No,No,No"....

Alright, so here's my deal with Beyonce. I've never been super attracted to her music but some thing's happened to her lately. Maybe the leap into womanhood with her recent marriage? Not sure. Regardless, the girl is KILLING IT! I checked out the first single off of her new CD- "If I Were A Boy" and really got into the hook. Then, the kicker... that super annoying club song with screeches and twangs "Put A Ring On It". That song was supposedly recorded by her alter-ego, Sasha Fierce. In my opinion, Sasha Fierce should jump off a bridge and let Beyonce shine. I can't stand it when artists try to summon their "alter-ego". That person always ends up being a huge tool. Case in point: Garth Brooks. What a nightmare. The rest of the Beyonce tracks are DEAD ON and Sasha Fierce sounds like some ghetto-fied wannabe. The absolute cream of the crop.... her rendition of "Ave Maria". WOW. Bells. Whistles. As hard as it is for me to admit it... That song is so beautiful, it's therapy. I cried. I turned it up louder. I cried some more. I probably listen to it 5 times a day. Do yourself a favor- if you don't purchase the tracks, at least take a listen on her MySpace page: http://www.myspace.com/beyonce You're welcome!

I Did My Best

So, I was at Macy's over the weekend. Decided to take advantage of their big pre-Veterans Day sale. In the process, as a bit of a gag, I tried on a pair of super hot Kenneth Cole stiletto's. The heel was four inches. I walked like a giraffe in them but I figured, If Paris Hilton can do it- dammit, SO CAN I!!!! Two random women complimented me on the shoes and that was all it took. Of course, they only saw me standing still. So my theory was that I'd buy the shoes and strut around the house until I got comfortable in them. If you know anything about me, you understand what a HUGE undertaking this was. I was really stepping outside of the box.

Got them home. Failed miserably. It hurts and I'm certain I will die in those shoes if I leave the house wearing them. They are a beautiful piece of artwork but I have to take them back to the store today and it pains me. But.. it doesn't pain me as much as it would if I wore them out for the night.

I'll go back to ballerina flats, sandals and being a boy. It's all good.

NOTE: I have since returned those heinous death traps. I think I should probably just stick to being me. I'm damn good at it!

Catching up. Sorta.

Alllllright, I've been slacking on this blog thing and I'm absolutely sorry for it. I tend to do this thing where I let my thoughts bottle and then I carry the bottle around for an extended period of time and then I trip and smash the bottle on the floor and there are gooey thoughts and feelings spewed all over the sidewalk. On the flip side, I don't do that in relationships so- I suppose that's a good thing... for me, anyway.

So, let's talk about how I'm a spinster. I had this fabulous moment with my mom Sunday morning when we met for breakfast. My spinach and mushroom omelet was delicious and perfectly prepared. Not to get WAY off topic but I'm SO thankful for the little breakfast place I found down the street from my house. I'm even more grateful for the tiny Asian lady who owns the place and has mastered the skill of creating the perfect New York bagel. Continuing... we finish breakfast and I can tell she's attempting to have a mother-daughter moment ala the Lifetime Network. She pulls this little Ziplock baggie out of her purse and I see something glimmering and get all excited. Well, the bling happened to be an antique amethyst ring that my grandmother left to her. I LOVE IT! It's chunky. It's in style. It's obnoxious. It's exactly like ME! So, I'm done reeling from the gold rush and there's one more piece in the baggie. My face drops the second she removes it... She starts to tell me how much this charm means to her because she got it when she was pregnant with me. Granted, it's the standard preggo gift. The charm depicting a mother cradling a baby. But, the more she kept talking... the deeper the hole she was digging... and she started to sound like the nanny from the Muppet Babies. All I could hear was "Since I have completely abandoned hope that you will ever have a child, I am giving you this now so it doesn't have to eat up space in my jewelery box". I know she didn't intend for the moment to transition into what it did but I was pretty rocked for the rest of the day. Don't get me wrong... I've always known that building a family was something that would happen later in life for me... and by "later in life" I mean, after 30- as opposed to almost every single person I went to high school with whose already married and two babies deep... not that there's anything wrong with that. My priorities have just always been different. Yes, I'm one of those maniacal creatures who has always had a plan for everything.

On to the next thought bubble: I've had this discussion a few times over the past week. Where did my personality come from? I'm not my mother. Not my father. If I had to narrow it down- I'm pretty sure I'm a conglomeration of my mom's mom (for her artsy personality and outlandish wardrobe choices) and my mom's dad (got his sense of humor, FOR SURE... and I'm SO thankful for it!). I'm also my dad's mom (she was a hard ass but always the life of the party) and my dad's dad (that Gus is SO unbelievably stubborn and sarcastic. he WILL live to be 200 years old). It's so strange when you really break it down and find the root of where you came from... in my case, rootS. I think I'm gonna get into a grander character breakdown over the next few days because I'm pretty sure I can learn a whole lot about myself through their trials and tribulations.

I should stop now. Like I mentioned... I've dropped the bottle and now there's goo everywhere...