Berta Platas' winner is Milly! Congrats, Milly, and thanks for participating in our Latina authors blog tour! (Thanks, also, for your patience. I just rolled in after a cuh-RAZY flight with my 4- and 2-year-old, and I think my head exploded somewhere over Memphis....)
Since I posted my blog tour entrya little early, I also want to make sure that everyone knows that we're back on schedule, so Kathy Cano-Murillo will be posting her blog tour entry tomorrow, May 27th. Be sure to visit her blog tomorrow--she has a really fun, effervescent voice. Kathy will also post the winner of my $10 Amazon gift certificate and a copy of I'll Be Watching You.
Monday, May 26, 2008
Sunday, May 25, 2008
Women, Words, and Wisdom: Latina Blog Tour
I had to do some unexpected travel this past week, so consequently, I had no time to write up something all new for the Women, Words, and Wisdom blog tour. In fact, I'll be flying early in the morning on the 26th--my day for the tour--so I'm posting this a little early and will let you all know who Berta's winner is Monday afternoon after my plane lands.
So, here's a post from a couple of months ago that seems to fit the theme, slightly updated. Everyone who comments will be entered to win a $10 Amazon.com gift certificate and a copy of my April release from Harlequin Intrigue, I'll Be Watching You. Be sure to stop by Kathy Cano-Murillo's blog on the 27th to find out the winner and continue on the tour!
* * *
A few weeks ago, my car and I limped into the dealership with two nearly flat tires and an alleged transmission fluid leak. Interestingly enough, it turned out that my transmission was perfectly fine. Why did I think I had a leak? Because a few rude men at a Certain Oil Change Chain (*cough*Texaco*cough*) told me during my last oil change that I had such a leak, and they, of course, tried to charge me $100 to fix it.
Now I'm not the greatest with cars, but I have a strange sixth sense about the well-being of my Scion XB. I can sense a disturbance in The Force when the tires need rotating, or when something like the starter needs to be replaced, or when it needs an oil change (because the hot Florida sun always bleaches the little reminder sticker on my window well before it's time). When I went to get my oil change, I had felt no transmission-related Force disturbances, so I balked at having my "leak" fixed and took the car home, where my husband pronounced the mere idea of a transmission fluid leak to be the delusional yammerings of a greedy, two-bit con artist. So I decided to take it to the Toyota dealer and ask them, just to be sure. My XB is still under warranty, so the dealer definitely wasn't going to try to sell me a transmission repair if one wasn't needed.
Anyhoo, the transmission was fine, and just as my husband and The Force had said, the oil change people were just trying to squeeze another bit of cash out of a gullible woman driver.
Jerks.
Women are often socialized to always be polite, to trust authority figures or experts, to never shout or get REALLY angry in public. And sometimes, particularly at unscrupulous Oil Change Chains (*cough*Texaco*cough*), the mere idea that women are less likely to challenge authority or get all up in one's face puts us at a big disadvantage.
Fortunately, I didn't fall for the chain's dastardly schemes. And if I ever go back to that accursed Oil Change Chain, I am totally going all ajuma on them. What's an ajuma? Let me explain....
Not too long ago, I lived in Seoul, Korea for two years with my Naval officer husband (or former Naval officer--he just retired after 20 years on March 1. WHOO!). I loved the experience, although I hated the fact that I was a complete brick about learning the language and kept defaulting to Spanish whenever my broken Korean and spastic sign language couldn't get my meaning across to the people in my community. And what I found really fascinating were the cultural differences. (Note: I'm not stereotyping--everything to come was corroborated by Korean friends.)
If you had the Presidents protocol expert at your side when you visited Korea, s/he would tell you that it's rude in Korea to use your left hand to give something to someone else. Rather like Regency-period Europe, it's rude to just start talking to someone (who is not providing customer service) unless you have been properly introduced by a third party. (This is not an iron-clad rule, especially among young people. But it is present.) It's not really considered rude to stare. (Ergo, people would often come out of nowhere to gather around to unabashedly observe this then-pregnant Latina flailing her arms while informing a very confused taxi driver that "I need you to drive me to the pencil" in Korean. I bet my neighbors miss me--I was always good for an afternoon's entertainment.)
In addition, it's rude to be really loud or overtly emotional in public. Of course, it happens--remember when those two men in the Korean Parliament were in the news because they started wrestling in the middle of the Parliament building's floor? But in general, I could go on the subway or sit in a coffee shop or go to a store, and I rarely ran into someone who was yammering so loud on their cell phone, they seemed to be shouting inside my head.
This was particularly true with the women--younger women in Korea tend to be especially soft-spoken and generally extremely polite. They are extremely careful with their diets--the average Korean woman is a size two. I read this in a local Seoul magazine, and experienced it first-hand when a shopkeeper eyeballed my size-8 figure as I was looking at her collection of skirts and promptly handed me an "extra large."
On Korean Air, we noticed that this quiet, ladylike behavior was somewhat magnified: the female flight attendants had their hair pulled back the same way, were roughly the same (size two) weight, and wore heeled shoes of varying heights, so they all ended up being roughly the same height, with very similar makeup. I admired how gentle and refined they were, but their impeccable manners coupled with the rigid sameness to their dress made it all a little like riding on Robert Palmer's "Addicted to Love" plane, but in Korea.
But then, around age 50 or 60, many Korean women apparently say to heck with all that and become what is known as an "ajuma" (ah-juh-ma). Technically, the word means elder or married woman. But according to several Seoul residents I met, it's gotten a slightly pejorative connotation in Korea that unfortunately makes it more akin to "crazy old bag." Once a woman has decided she's entered the age of the ajuma, she often cuts her hair short and perms it (A phenomenon one Korean website describes as sending the message that "I am married; please don't try to pick me up."), dresses in horrible polyester pants, and says goodbye to her size twos as she gains as much weight as she pleases. And then comes the attitude--ajumas will bust in front of you in line without a backward glance. They will literally shove you out of their way. They will get in your face if they think you have an opinion or a mannerism that needs changing. They are not quiet and soft-spoken, and they are not gentle and nurturing. They are women, hear them roar.
They're fabulous. I loved the gentle, soft-spoken women I befriended in Korea, but I also secretly loved that in a few years, they'd go all ajuma and become strong, outspoken, and magnificent. (And yes, I met some younger women who were already strong and outspoken, but were perm-free. I'm talking patterns here--not absolutes.)
That's not to say that I never ended up on the wrong end of an ajuma. We had one as a landlady our first year there, and she would literally peer into my windows to see how high I'd turned up the thermostat in the winter. If it was too high, she'd barge in and turn it down--or lecture me about turning it down, complete with grand gestures because of my extremely tenuous grasp of the Korean language. And occasionally, I was in the wrong place at the wrong time and would end up shoved against a wall while an ajuma barreled by. Which most of the time just cracked me up. All in all, the ajumas gave me great joy.
My grandmother on my dad's side has always had a bit of ajuma about her. A couple of years ago, she got a speeding ticket, and instead of just mailing in the payment, she showed up at the police station and told them to just put her in jail until they considered her debt to society paid. The police officer on duty ended up spending the better part of his day begging her to just pay the thing, because he really didn't want to put a nearly 90-year-old woman in jail. She tells this story often and with a considerable amount of glee. I have no doubt that she didn't intend to spend one minute in jail--she just wanted to see if she could get out of paying the ticket. And, I think, she might have been a little bored that day and just wanted to mess with someone.
And, of course, my mother and my aunts from Honduras probably started out as ajumas at birth. Whatever the cultural norms are in Honduras, they all taught me that being Latina means being a strong woman who stands up for herself. Is your boyfriend sometimes not nice to you? Dump him, Mom would say, because you certainly deserve better. Does someone make fun of you for your mother's accent, your perma-tan, your culture? Ignore him, Mom demonstrated again and again by example, because he's an idiot who deserves to be pitied for his staggering ignorance. Did a friend of yours just act in a way that's not so friendly? Forget about it, Mom repeated from grade school through college--she's just jealous because you're so fabulous.
Those things were all difficult to absorb when I was younger, but now, in my 30s, I remember them well and have put them to good use. And I may not have permed my hair or started rocking the polyester pants yet, but I have an inner confidence that I never would have had without all of the ajumas in my life--Honduran, Czech, and Korean. And yes, when I'm with the ones in my family, I do tend to feel just a little bit fabulous.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
New Latina Authors Blog Tour!
In honor of May being Latino Books month, a group of fab Latina authors (and me!) are lauching a ten-day blog tour. Visit each of the blogs below on their given days to get a fabulous short story or non-fiction essay, and comment to win one of ten prizes!
Mary Castillo got us started on the 19th at: http://marycastillo.blogspot.com/
The entire lineup includes:
May 19 - Mary Castillo(http://marycastillo.blogspot.com/)
May 20 - Barb Ferrer(http://fashionista_35.livejournal.com/)
May 21 – Lara Rios(http://www.lararios.blogspot.com/)
May 22 – Mayra Calvani(http://www.thedarkphantom.wordpress.com)
May 23 – Caridad Scordato(www.caridad.com/blog)
May 24 – Jamie Martinez Wood(http://jamiemartinezwood.blogspot.com/)
May 25 – Berta Platas(http://bertaplatas.blogspot.com/)
May 26 – Tracy Montoya(www.tracymontoya.blogspot.com)
May 27 – Kathy Murillo(http://thecraftychica.blogspot.com)
May 28 – Misa Ramirez(http://chasingheroes.com)
Remember, prizes! Go read and comment!
P.S. Thank you to Nuvia Crisol Guerra for allowing us to use her stunning artwork for our logo. If you want to see all of her work, visit http://www.artecrisol.com/.
Saturday, May 03, 2008
Friday, May 02, 2008
Stupid Things That Scare Me
(cross-posted at the Intrigue Authors blog)
Screeching in late today due to a dentist appointment. And I just have to say, my hygienist was running about 40 minutes late--would it KILL that surly blonde at the front desk to let me know and not act like I'm some sort of leper when I come up to politely ASK when I'm going to get my stupid teeth cleaned?
Sheesh.
Anyway, I've been fussing with a new proposal, and I've been thinking about what scares me--after all, a good Intrigue should scare you, at least a little, right? And I feel some of my personal-best suspense scenes tend to be the ones where I take my own fears and just let my imagination have at them.
So all of this thinking about what scares me led me to start thinking about Stupid Things That Scare Me. And let me tell you, there's one really stupid fear that I have that I just can't get over....
Superman has kryptonite. Indiana Jones (19 days, 10 hours, 13 minutes, and counting!) has snakes. And I have ... Bigfoot.
Stop laughing. Just hearing the name "Bigfoot" gives me a MAJOR case of the heebies. Just watch:
Bigfoot.
:::shudder:::
OK, I guess you'll have to take my word for it that my skin just crawled into the next room and hid behind the sofa, but I have a deep, irrational fear of Bigfoot that rivals my arachnophobia, and no amount of telling me that it was all just an old guy in a gorilla suit is going to make me feel any better. Said deep, irrational fear is due to a convergence of traumatic, Bigfoot-related events in my life.
1) There were alleged Bigfoot sightings near my hometown when I was in the third grade and regularly WALKING HOME ALONE from school. I'm not kidding--just google Bigfoot and Wisconsin or La Crosse Tribune, and you'll probably find at least part of the Trib's series of articles from 1976 talking about a cluster of Bigfoot sightings in Cashton. Cashton was about a 20-minute drive from my hometown of Wilton, but word on the street (there were 500 people in this town, so the word was literally only on one street) was that Wilton farmers were seeing the big hairy beast on their land, too.
How do I know this? One of my classmates was the son of the town sheriff, and he would oh-so-generously come to school and yammer on about how his dad got called out to yet another farm because someone was having a staredown with Bigfoot. He also swore that his dad chased down the Big B and fired off a few shots at it, but I suspect he was just being a dude and embellishing at this point. Why? Because I'm guessing Bigfoot would have had Sheriff Evans as a tasty snack if it were true. According to BFRO (that would be the Bigfoot Research Organization), Bigfoot doesn't react well to aggression.
But that doesn't mean the rest of this kid's stories weren't true, and it's enough to make my hair stand up and frizz even more than it already does. I remember him telling us how his dad talked about the awful stench that Bigfoot gave off. A few days later, the Tribune printed an article about yet another Monroe County Bigfoot sighting, with a headline that referred to the big B as a "stinker" and several references to the Bigfoot Stench in the body of the piece.
When I walked home that day from school, someone had made a giant footprint in the snow. I just want to go on the record and say that it really wasn't funny.
2) About this same time-ish, Bigfoot had a recurring guest role on my favorite show at the time, The Bionic Woman (right up there with Wonder Woman, Electrawoman and Dyna-Girl, and The Secrets of Isis! I'm totally showing my age here, but I loved strong heroines even then.). He was big. And hairy. And mean. And I didn't like the way he swooped his arms around like he could lop your head off with one swing. So thanks to my favorite TV show, the unseen horror in my head suddenly had a face. A big, hairy, terrifying face. Curse you, Lindsay Wagner!
3) Then my best friend Terri went to see the movie Sasquatch, the Legend of Bigfoot in the theater. She came back and kindly gave me a blow-by-blow of the piece, which was by no means a literary art-house film. Her recounting of Bigfoot's terrible roar, his hunting down and slaughtering at least one of the seven men who were camping in the Pacific Northwest, and her accompanying imitation of those Awful. Swooping. Arms. nearly sent me over the edge. Seriously, what kind of best friend DOES THIS? It was also allegedly a true story, which I remember she informed me with considerable glee. I was probably cowering under my Wonder Woman book bag in a corner of the lunchroom.
4) Sure, you may think that Ray Wallace's family admitting that he faked the famous Patterson-Gimlin Bigfoot film footage and footprints puts an end to this horrible, horrible legend. But the fact is, Bigfoot sightings have been documented since 1840 and probably earlier. Ray Wallace and his gorilla suit were not around then. And not only do many Native American tribes have Sasquatch legends dating back to Heaven Knows When, but there is actual forensic evidence that point to the fact that some Bigfoot footprints are real. One scientist points to the "push-mound" in the middle of the prints, which is created by the horizontal push of the first part of the foot before it leaves the ground. Fake feet can't do that, he says.
The enormous step interval measured between several tracks (in excess of three feet), this scientist says, would also be very difficult for hoaxers to create without making a mistake. Variations in toe positions would also be difficult to fake, he says. And another researcher named Henry Franzo compared 550 Bigfoot prints to each other and found that their measurements varied on a curve very much like how a similar group of human footprints would display.
What can I say? I like to research things that scare me. Although it really didn't help, in this case. You should see me on WebMD.com.
So, yeah, I have a very strange and irrational fear of Bigfoot. Which some people, I am sad to say, exploit for their own personal enjoyment. One of my college friends found, to his great amusement, that all he had to do was slouch a little and swing his arms in that swooping, knuckle-scraping motion made famous on the Bigfoot episodes of The Six Million Dollar Man and The Bionic Woman, and I'd immediately bury my face in the nearest pillow and start whimpering. Fortunately for me, he also had an irrational fear of Bigfoot, and if he did this too often, he scared himself. Instant karma, baby!
BFRO and other organizations still report Bigfoot sightings today. In fact, a January 2008 article in the West Bend Daily News says there have been some new sightings in the West Bend area. That would be West Bend, Wisconsin. That's a FIFTEEN-MINUTE DRIVE from my hometown, people! My PARENTS are there, and I'm headed that way in exactly two weeks.
SHRIEK!
Sometimes, I think it would be better just to move to Loch Ness. THEIR monster just paddles around a lake from time to time and doesn't EAT PEOPLE.
Anyone else have an embarrassing, irrational fear? Or am I all alone here?
Screeching in late today due to a dentist appointment. And I just have to say, my hygienist was running about 40 minutes late--would it KILL that surly blonde at the front desk to let me know and not act like I'm some sort of leper when I come up to politely ASK when I'm going to get my stupid teeth cleaned?
Sheesh.
Anyway, I've been fussing with a new proposal, and I've been thinking about what scares me--after all, a good Intrigue should scare you, at least a little, right? And I feel some of my personal-best suspense scenes tend to be the ones where I take my own fears and just let my imagination have at them.
So all of this thinking about what scares me led me to start thinking about Stupid Things That Scare Me. And let me tell you, there's one really stupid fear that I have that I just can't get over....
Superman has kryptonite. Indiana Jones (19 days, 10 hours, 13 minutes, and counting!) has snakes. And I have ... Bigfoot.
Stop laughing. Just hearing the name "Bigfoot" gives me a MAJOR case of the heebies. Just watch:
Bigfoot.
:::shudder:::
OK, I guess you'll have to take my word for it that my skin just crawled into the next room and hid behind the sofa, but I have a deep, irrational fear of Bigfoot that rivals my arachnophobia, and no amount of telling me that it was all just an old guy in a gorilla suit is going to make me feel any better. Said deep, irrational fear is due to a convergence of traumatic, Bigfoot-related events in my life.
1) There were alleged Bigfoot sightings near my hometown when I was in the third grade and regularly WALKING HOME ALONE from school. I'm not kidding--just google Bigfoot and Wisconsin or La Crosse Tribune, and you'll probably find at least part of the Trib's series of articles from 1976 talking about a cluster of Bigfoot sightings in Cashton. Cashton was about a 20-minute drive from my hometown of Wilton, but word on the street (there were 500 people in this town, so the word was literally only on one street) was that Wilton farmers were seeing the big hairy beast on their land, too.
How do I know this? One of my classmates was the son of the town sheriff, and he would oh-so-generously come to school and yammer on about how his dad got called out to yet another farm because someone was having a staredown with Bigfoot. He also swore that his dad chased down the Big B and fired off a few shots at it, but I suspect he was just being a dude and embellishing at this point. Why? Because I'm guessing Bigfoot would have had Sheriff Evans as a tasty snack if it were true. According to BFRO (that would be the Bigfoot Research Organization), Bigfoot doesn't react well to aggression.
But that doesn't mean the rest of this kid's stories weren't true, and it's enough to make my hair stand up and frizz even more than it already does. I remember him telling us how his dad talked about the awful stench that Bigfoot gave off. A few days later, the Tribune printed an article about yet another Monroe County Bigfoot sighting, with a headline that referred to the big B as a "stinker" and several references to the Bigfoot Stench in the body of the piece.
When I walked home that day from school, someone had made a giant footprint in the snow. I just want to go on the record and say that it really wasn't funny.
2) About this same time-ish, Bigfoot had a recurring guest role on my favorite show at the time, The Bionic Woman (right up there with Wonder Woman, Electrawoman and Dyna-Girl, and The Secrets of Isis! I'm totally showing my age here, but I loved strong heroines even then.). He was big. And hairy. And mean. And I didn't like the way he swooped his arms around like he could lop your head off with one swing. So thanks to my favorite TV show, the unseen horror in my head suddenly had a face. A big, hairy, terrifying face. Curse you, Lindsay Wagner!
3) Then my best friend Terri went to see the movie Sasquatch, the Legend of Bigfoot in the theater. She came back and kindly gave me a blow-by-blow of the piece, which was by no means a literary art-house film. Her recounting of Bigfoot's terrible roar, his hunting down and slaughtering at least one of the seven men who were camping in the Pacific Northwest, and her accompanying imitation of those Awful. Swooping. Arms. nearly sent me over the edge. Seriously, what kind of best friend DOES THIS? It was also allegedly a true story, which I remember she informed me with considerable glee. I was probably cowering under my Wonder Woman book bag in a corner of the lunchroom.
4) Sure, you may think that Ray Wallace's family admitting that he faked the famous Patterson-Gimlin Bigfoot film footage and footprints puts an end to this horrible, horrible legend. But the fact is, Bigfoot sightings have been documented since 1840 and probably earlier. Ray Wallace and his gorilla suit were not around then. And not only do many Native American tribes have Sasquatch legends dating back to Heaven Knows When, but there is actual forensic evidence that point to the fact that some Bigfoot footprints are real. One scientist points to the "push-mound" in the middle of the prints, which is created by the horizontal push of the first part of the foot before it leaves the ground. Fake feet can't do that, he says.
The enormous step interval measured between several tracks (in excess of three feet), this scientist says, would also be very difficult for hoaxers to create without making a mistake. Variations in toe positions would also be difficult to fake, he says. And another researcher named Henry Franzo compared 550 Bigfoot prints to each other and found that their measurements varied on a curve very much like how a similar group of human footprints would display.
What can I say? I like to research things that scare me. Although it really didn't help, in this case. You should see me on WebMD.com.
So, yeah, I have a very strange and irrational fear of Bigfoot. Which some people, I am sad to say, exploit for their own personal enjoyment. One of my college friends found, to his great amusement, that all he had to do was slouch a little and swing his arms in that swooping, knuckle-scraping motion made famous on the Bigfoot episodes of The Six Million Dollar Man and The Bionic Woman, and I'd immediately bury my face in the nearest pillow and start whimpering. Fortunately for me, he also had an irrational fear of Bigfoot, and if he did this too often, he scared himself. Instant karma, baby!
BFRO and other organizations still report Bigfoot sightings today. In fact, a January 2008 article in the West Bend Daily News says there have been some new sightings in the West Bend area. That would be West Bend, Wisconsin. That's a FIFTEEN-MINUTE DRIVE from my hometown, people! My PARENTS are there, and I'm headed that way in exactly two weeks.
SHRIEK!
Sometimes, I think it would be better just to move to Loch Ness. THEIR monster just paddles around a lake from time to time and doesn't EAT PEOPLE.
Anyone else have an embarrassing, irrational fear? Or am I all alone here?
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
American Idol Recap: Top 6
TROY: I think I am Hot Mess of the week due to my lack of inspiration (in fairness to me, I had tech issues, so I couldn't get this out sooner). Next week I will bring my A game. :)
TRACY: I will expect it to be broughten! Although you are funnier this go-round than you think, dear brother.
So. Broadway night.
TROY: Correction: Andrew Lloyd Webber night. It would have been a lot cooler if they opened it up to all Broadway shows. Jason Castro would have been able to sing something from "Reefer Madness!"
TRACY: Ooooh, too bad! Anyway, Paula, Randy, and Simon each have their signature critique chestnuts that they haul out, dust off, and slap on a contestant whenever the judges have gotten a bad case of the mehs over their performances. For Randy, it's "pitchy." Everything's freaking "pitchy," even when multiple rewinds of the Tivo prove otherwise. For Paula, it's "Hey, you LOOK great!"
TROY: (Or something like "The butterfly is bright and on your forehead with the shine of your smile.")
TRACY: And for Simon, it's a toss-up between "That was Broadway." and "That was Cabaret."
Which leaves me questioning the producers' choice of bringing on Andrew Lloyd Weber as the guest mentor, despite his in-your-face British honesty, coated with a dash of lordly stiff-upper-lip-itude. Because you're just ASKING for the most influential judge on the show (that would be Simon) to hate everything.
TROY: Well, this WAS after Mariah Carey week. It's contradiction year on Idol!
TRACY: At least ALW didn't write "Cabaret," or the contestants really might have been in trouble.
But Llord Lloyd Weber was indeed the mentor, and I thought he was rather sweet. I appreciated that he was frank about the contestants, although generally rather pleasantly frank. Except in the case of his critique of Brooke White, which, had I been in the room after his critique, would have caused me to go charging over for a major high five. (Do British Llords do high fives?)
"I don't think that girl had a clue what she was singing." Heh.
TROY: I LOVED that. I also loved his critique of Jason Castro, but we'll get to that later. Weren't you at least a little sketched out by his permanently arched eyebrows and lack of blinking? I thought he was a great guest, but I was having Bobby "Creepy Cabana" Bennett flashbacks (Google him if you can't remember).
TRACY: You'd better get yourself a really good plastic surgeon, Troy, because you're going to have no patience with your aging self otherwise! I didn't get Creepy Cabana vibes, maybe because the British accent automatically adds a sense of highbrow for me.
Anyway, I don't think most of them had a clue what to do with ALW's comprehensive and varied catalog, which is sad. David Cook totally should have rocked something from Jesus Christ Superstar, Jason probably should have done "Everything's All Right," and Brooke should have put a paper bag over her head and apologized to the free world.
TROY: Don't deny Brooke "The Gift" White.
TRACY: Like I said last week, take that gift back to Wal-Mart and demand your money back.
TROY: Didn't you totally think David Archuelta would have done something from Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat?
TRACY: Seriously. Oh, and I think they should have all walked in and asked ALW what to sing, because the dude totally made Carly's night. But before she came on stage, we had ....
SYESHA MERCADO, who quite possibly delivered the performance of her life, given that she was the night's standout in front of millions of viewers. I think she came in to early, but the always-professional Ricky Minor and his Fabuloso Band covered her mistake brilliantly. The rest was well sung and delivered with a sass we haven't really seen from her before. Obviously, her real talent lies in musicals, so I think she should probably be voted off with that lovely rendition of "One Rock and Roll Too Many" so she can start her musical stage career and we can think of her fondly when she says goodbye and forget all about all of those bad Whitney imitations. Loved the hair, too, even though it wasn't curly.
TROY: I thought Syesha did a fantastic job, but I really , REALLY hated the song. It was a colossal bore with a monotonous chorus. Oh well. For once, Syesha didn't try to oversing (and we had no one to really compare her to). She was able to showcase not only her voice, but her personality which has been severely lacking. I don't really want her to win because it's definitely a case of "too little, too late," but I think Broadway will definitely suit her well. I actually would have loved to see her get the boot this week, just so she could go out on a high note (and she'll probably go back to being boring next week).
TRACY: Next up was JASON CASTRO, who was a tone-deaf trainwreck of colossal proportions. First of all, it's just odd to see a 20-something singing about withered leaves and how he was beautiful once back in the day and all he has is a memory of what it was like to be young and enjoying life. NO! Just no.
TROY: Do you honestly think Jason picked the song based on lyrics or melody? He probably was busy toking up (it WAS 4/20 this weekend after all), missed the song choice deadline, and then just randomly picked a song on the list. Ugh.
TRACY: Second, Memory is a belter's song, and anything but is going to sound like a pale and slightly unhinged imitation. It suffered in comparison so much, I could hear the sheet music screaming. Or maybe that was ALW in the audience. He was such a ghastly shade of pale when the camera focused on him later, I figured he was still trying to recover from what Jason did to his poor, unsuspecting song.
TROY: I thought Jason was a passive person until this performance. He took "Memory" into a back alley, beat it senseless, and demanded it tell its friends that it "fell down the stairs" (all with a doped out grin on his face).
TRACY: (HA! Troy's A-game is suddenly back. ::::high-five:::)
TROY: I thought this was the worst performance of the season and also one of the most creeptastic. BLECH.
TRACY: Third, he didn't know it was sung by a cat? If it's a musical called Cats, guess what it's probably all about?
Yes, that would be cats.
And if it's about cats, guess who is probably going to be singing the song?
Once again, that would be a cat.
Sheesh.
TROY: However, Webby's reaction toward Jason's idiocracy was fantastic. It was akin to Gwen Stefani's reaction to Sanjaya picking "Bathwater": Something like, "Well he picked it. It's a hard song. Good luck."
TRACY: That's LLORD Webby.
I am STILL playing "I Don't Wanna Cry," Jason's song from Mariah week, so I'm a fan of his unique, oddball voice. But "Memory" was a hot mess. (Not to be confused with the Hot Mess of the Week, though.)
TROY: It was TOTALLY in contention for "Hot Mess of the Week."
TRACY: Someone really needs to take away that boy's bong. His remaining brain cells are crying out for a reprieve. ("Save us! Somebody save us!")
Then we had the trainwreckiest trainwreck of all seven seasons of the show put together, BROOKE WHITE, who cemented my wish for her to take a flying leap off my TV screen with her catastrophic "You Must Love Me."
No. I must not.
TROY: Again don't speak ill of the Idol Gift (not to be confused with Paula, who calls herself "the gift" as well). Brooke was perfection this week.
TRACY: In an alternate universe where everything sucks, maybe! Brooke, the gift that keeps on figuratively kicking you in the face....
First of all, Paula was SO right (I can't believe I just typed that) when she told Brooke you don't stop and start again. You don't. Maybe you do at the Sheboygan County High School Music Competition, but not on a stage in front of millions of viewers. It's insulting to the band and embarrassing/unprofessional for you.
And what was up with the whole bit afterward with Ryan, Simon, and Randy yammering on about how courageous she was? Courageous? Did she go on stage and beat leukemia when I wasn't looking?
TROY: Seriously.
TRACY: Correct me if I'm wrong, but I think she flubbed a song, unprofessionally shrilled at the band to stop playing and let her start again, and then croaked her way through it and utterly destroyed any love I had left for "Evita" after Madonna killed most of its song catalog.
TROY: That was just ridiculous. I guess they, heaven forbid, don't want to hurt Princess Brooke's feelings. What Brooke did is not what a professional would do on stage. You brush yourself off and keep going. This is the SECOND time she's done this.
And I thought Madonna totally outsang Brooke, and THAT is scary alone.
TRACY: WHAT DID POOR EVITA EVER DO TO YOU PEOPLE?!
I was hoping Patti LuPone was in the audience and would come out on stage, bitchslap her, and sing the rest of the song the way it was supposed to be done, but alas, it was not meant to be.
I expected Simon to just ROAST Babbling Brooke, but he was uncharacteristically benign--which lends some credence to my whole leukemia theory. Or maybe she had to beat off some of those swaying zombies in the Idol "mosh pit" with her microphone during a commercial break. Swaying zombies have to eat, too.
Hot Mess of the Century award, right here.
TROY: Amazing gift of the year.
TRACY: And then we had DAVID ARCHULETA, who I think didn't get enough credit from Simon for his major reworking of "Think of Me." Like ALW pointed out, that song from Phantom was written for a diva soprano, and for him to make it a believable pop song took a lot of talent. Plus, he actually took ALW's advice (unlike Dr. Dreadlocks) and kept his eyes open during most of his performance, which I think did help him connect more with the camera.
I liked it. That is all. (Sorry, Virginia.)
TROY: I really liked David's cover as well. David is pretty much the King of Schmaltz and this song is pretty schmaltzy, so no surprise that he pulled it off. I didn't love the performance as I think David brings no real personality to his performances (other than always being so happy).
TRACY: But he's So! Cute! I! Could! Just! Squeeze! Him!
CARLY SMITHSON followed through on her potential and delivered another "Come Together" in the form of a brilliant, bombastic "Jesus Christ Superstar." Loved her hippy-chick dress, loved her attitude, loved her singing. Which means she's probably going to get voted off tonight and Syesha and Babbling Brooke will remain to plague us next week. Sigh.
TROY: Carly OWNED the stage. I loved her performance (but hated her dress--it looked like a tablecloth vomited).
TRACY: (The dress was awesome.)
TROY: She finally went out, had fun, and rocked her powerhouse vocals. Plus, how cool was it to see this totally tatted "rocker" chick get out there and belt "Jesus Christ Superstar." I loved it and, to me, it was performance of the night.
TRACY: I think I finally got a taste of the creepy factor you've said DAVID COOK has. "All I Ask of You" is a basically a crazed stalker song, and I was somewhat skeeved out by his version. Is it just me, or did he have the male version of Runaway Bride eyes during that performance?
TROY: He totally had Runaway Bride eyes, but I think Brooke White was rocking the exact same look.
TRACY: She just had Runaway Bride eyes: The Pasty Version.
Back to David.... I have to say, he really did pull it off vocally. I was fetching some juice for Marin while listening (because my entire life is fetching juice for my preschoolers right now), and I realized that when I just paid attention to the singing, it was really good! He could have gone on stage as the Phantom with that one, and I would have totally believed it. It's hard to compete with Michael Crawford, so I have to give him credit for stepping up. It was a bad theme week for David C., and he still pulled it off.
TROY: You know how much I like David Cook
TRACY: Jealous? You want his hair. You know it.
TROY: Anyway, I thought he did a nice, straightforward version of "Music of the Night." It was nice that he just sang the song, rather than have us judge him on a new David Cook-ified version. At the very least, he sounded MUCH better than Gerard Butler's abysmal bass take on the Phantom for the movie version.
TRACY: But Gerard Butler distracted much of his audience from his abysmal bass with sheer hotness. Gotta give him that.
TROY: David Cook is still a capital A Asshat though.
......................RESULTS SHOW.......................
TROY: And your prediction came true. The RESULTS SHOW was a horrifying disaster as we bid adieu to my pick, Carly Smithson. PEOPLE, WHY ARE YOU VOTING FOR JASON CASTRO? HE IS PAINFUL. At least Brooke White is a hilarious disaster.
TRACY: I find nothing hilarious about a woman who sounds like a traffic jam when she speaks.
TROY: Well, next week IS Neil Diamond week. Imagine the possibilities!
TRACY: Trombone fanfares! Hand-claps! Chest hair! This could be fun! Or it could be a whole new level of suckitude....
TRACY: I will expect it to be broughten! Although you are funnier this go-round than you think, dear brother.
So. Broadway night.
TROY: Correction: Andrew Lloyd Webber night. It would have been a lot cooler if they opened it up to all Broadway shows. Jason Castro would have been able to sing something from "Reefer Madness!"
TRACY: Ooooh, too bad! Anyway, Paula, Randy, and Simon each have their signature critique chestnuts that they haul out, dust off, and slap on a contestant whenever the judges have gotten a bad case of the mehs over their performances. For Randy, it's "pitchy." Everything's freaking "pitchy," even when multiple rewinds of the Tivo prove otherwise. For Paula, it's "Hey, you LOOK great!"
TROY: (Or something like "The butterfly is bright and on your forehead with the shine of your smile.")
TRACY: And for Simon, it's a toss-up between "That was Broadway." and "That was Cabaret."
Which leaves me questioning the producers' choice of bringing on Andrew Lloyd Weber as the guest mentor, despite his in-your-face British honesty, coated with a dash of lordly stiff-upper-lip-itude. Because you're just ASKING for the most influential judge on the show (that would be Simon) to hate everything.
TROY: Well, this WAS after Mariah Carey week. It's contradiction year on Idol!
TRACY: At least ALW didn't write "Cabaret," or the contestants really might have been in trouble.
But Llord Lloyd Weber was indeed the mentor, and I thought he was rather sweet. I appreciated that he was frank about the contestants, although generally rather pleasantly frank. Except in the case of his critique of Brooke White, which, had I been in the room after his critique, would have caused me to go charging over for a major high five. (Do British Llords do high fives?)
"I don't think that girl had a clue what she was singing." Heh.
TROY: I LOVED that. I also loved his critique of Jason Castro, but we'll get to that later. Weren't you at least a little sketched out by his permanently arched eyebrows and lack of blinking? I thought he was a great guest, but I was having Bobby "Creepy Cabana" Bennett flashbacks (Google him if you can't remember).
TRACY: You'd better get yourself a really good plastic surgeon, Troy, because you're going to have no patience with your aging self otherwise! I didn't get Creepy Cabana vibes, maybe because the British accent automatically adds a sense of highbrow for me.
Anyway, I don't think most of them had a clue what to do with ALW's comprehensive and varied catalog, which is sad. David Cook totally should have rocked something from Jesus Christ Superstar, Jason probably should have done "Everything's All Right," and Brooke should have put a paper bag over her head and apologized to the free world.
TROY: Don't deny Brooke "The Gift" White.
TRACY: Like I said last week, take that gift back to Wal-Mart and demand your money back.
TROY: Didn't you totally think David Archuelta would have done something from Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat?
TRACY: Seriously. Oh, and I think they should have all walked in and asked ALW what to sing, because the dude totally made Carly's night. But before she came on stage, we had ....
SYESHA MERCADO, who quite possibly delivered the performance of her life, given that she was the night's standout in front of millions of viewers. I think she came in to early, but the always-professional Ricky Minor and his Fabuloso Band covered her mistake brilliantly. The rest was well sung and delivered with a sass we haven't really seen from her before. Obviously, her real talent lies in musicals, so I think she should probably be voted off with that lovely rendition of "One Rock and Roll Too Many" so she can start her musical stage career and we can think of her fondly when she says goodbye and forget all about all of those bad Whitney imitations. Loved the hair, too, even though it wasn't curly.
TROY: I thought Syesha did a fantastic job, but I really , REALLY hated the song. It was a colossal bore with a monotonous chorus. Oh well. For once, Syesha didn't try to oversing (and we had no one to really compare her to). She was able to showcase not only her voice, but her personality which has been severely lacking. I don't really want her to win because it's definitely a case of "too little, too late," but I think Broadway will definitely suit her well. I actually would have loved to see her get the boot this week, just so she could go out on a high note (and she'll probably go back to being boring next week).
TRACY: Next up was JASON CASTRO, who was a tone-deaf trainwreck of colossal proportions. First of all, it's just odd to see a 20-something singing about withered leaves and how he was beautiful once back in the day and all he has is a memory of what it was like to be young and enjoying life. NO! Just no.
TROY: Do you honestly think Jason picked the song based on lyrics or melody? He probably was busy toking up (it WAS 4/20 this weekend after all), missed the song choice deadline, and then just randomly picked a song on the list. Ugh.
TRACY: Second, Memory is a belter's song, and anything but is going to sound like a pale and slightly unhinged imitation. It suffered in comparison so much, I could hear the sheet music screaming. Or maybe that was ALW in the audience. He was such a ghastly shade of pale when the camera focused on him later, I figured he was still trying to recover from what Jason did to his poor, unsuspecting song.
TROY: I thought Jason was a passive person until this performance. He took "Memory" into a back alley, beat it senseless, and demanded it tell its friends that it "fell down the stairs" (all with a doped out grin on his face).
TRACY: (HA! Troy's A-game is suddenly back. ::::high-five:::)
TROY: I thought this was the worst performance of the season and also one of the most creeptastic. BLECH.
TRACY: Third, he didn't know it was sung by a cat? If it's a musical called Cats, guess what it's probably all about?
Yes, that would be cats.
And if it's about cats, guess who is probably going to be singing the song?
Once again, that would be a cat.
Sheesh.
TROY: However, Webby's reaction toward Jason's idiocracy was fantastic. It was akin to Gwen Stefani's reaction to Sanjaya picking "Bathwater": Something like, "Well he picked it. It's a hard song. Good luck."
TRACY: That's LLORD Webby.
I am STILL playing "I Don't Wanna Cry," Jason's song from Mariah week, so I'm a fan of his unique, oddball voice. But "Memory" was a hot mess. (Not to be confused with the Hot Mess of the Week, though.)
TROY: It was TOTALLY in contention for "Hot Mess of the Week."
TRACY: Someone really needs to take away that boy's bong. His remaining brain cells are crying out for a reprieve. ("Save us! Somebody save us!")
Then we had the trainwreckiest trainwreck of all seven seasons of the show put together, BROOKE WHITE, who cemented my wish for her to take a flying leap off my TV screen with her catastrophic "You Must Love Me."
No. I must not.
TROY: Again don't speak ill of the Idol Gift (not to be confused with Paula, who calls herself "the gift" as well). Brooke was perfection this week.
TRACY: In an alternate universe where everything sucks, maybe! Brooke, the gift that keeps on figuratively kicking you in the face....
First of all, Paula was SO right (I can't believe I just typed that) when she told Brooke you don't stop and start again. You don't. Maybe you do at the Sheboygan County High School Music Competition, but not on a stage in front of millions of viewers. It's insulting to the band and embarrassing/unprofessional for you.
And what was up with the whole bit afterward with Ryan, Simon, and Randy yammering on about how courageous she was? Courageous? Did she go on stage and beat leukemia when I wasn't looking?
TROY: Seriously.
TRACY: Correct me if I'm wrong, but I think she flubbed a song, unprofessionally shrilled at the band to stop playing and let her start again, and then croaked her way through it and utterly destroyed any love I had left for "Evita" after Madonna killed most of its song catalog.
TROY: That was just ridiculous. I guess they, heaven forbid, don't want to hurt Princess Brooke's feelings. What Brooke did is not what a professional would do on stage. You brush yourself off and keep going. This is the SECOND time she's done this.
And I thought Madonna totally outsang Brooke, and THAT is scary alone.
TRACY: WHAT DID POOR EVITA EVER DO TO YOU PEOPLE?!
I was hoping Patti LuPone was in the audience and would come out on stage, bitchslap her, and sing the rest of the song the way it was supposed to be done, but alas, it was not meant to be.
I expected Simon to just ROAST Babbling Brooke, but he was uncharacteristically benign--which lends some credence to my whole leukemia theory. Or maybe she had to beat off some of those swaying zombies in the Idol "mosh pit" with her microphone during a commercial break. Swaying zombies have to eat, too.
Hot Mess of the Century award, right here.
TROY: Amazing gift of the year.
TRACY: And then we had DAVID ARCHULETA, who I think didn't get enough credit from Simon for his major reworking of "Think of Me." Like ALW pointed out, that song from Phantom was written for a diva soprano, and for him to make it a believable pop song took a lot of talent. Plus, he actually took ALW's advice (unlike Dr. Dreadlocks) and kept his eyes open during most of his performance, which I think did help him connect more with the camera.
I liked it. That is all. (Sorry, Virginia.)
TROY: I really liked David's cover as well. David is pretty much the King of Schmaltz and this song is pretty schmaltzy, so no surprise that he pulled it off. I didn't love the performance as I think David brings no real personality to his performances (other than always being so happy).
TRACY: But he's So! Cute! I! Could! Just! Squeeze! Him!
CARLY SMITHSON followed through on her potential and delivered another "Come Together" in the form of a brilliant, bombastic "Jesus Christ Superstar." Loved her hippy-chick dress, loved her attitude, loved her singing. Which means she's probably going to get voted off tonight and Syesha and Babbling Brooke will remain to plague us next week. Sigh.
TROY: Carly OWNED the stage. I loved her performance (but hated her dress--it looked like a tablecloth vomited).
TRACY: (The dress was awesome.)
TROY: She finally went out, had fun, and rocked her powerhouse vocals. Plus, how cool was it to see this totally tatted "rocker" chick get out there and belt "Jesus Christ Superstar." I loved it and, to me, it was performance of the night.
TRACY: I think I finally got a taste of the creepy factor you've said DAVID COOK has. "All I Ask of You" is a basically a crazed stalker song, and I was somewhat skeeved out by his version. Is it just me, or did he have the male version of Runaway Bride eyes during that performance?
TROY: He totally had Runaway Bride eyes, but I think Brooke White was rocking the exact same look.
TRACY: She just had Runaway Bride eyes: The Pasty Version.
Back to David.... I have to say, he really did pull it off vocally. I was fetching some juice for Marin while listening (because my entire life is fetching juice for my preschoolers right now), and I realized that when I just paid attention to the singing, it was really good! He could have gone on stage as the Phantom with that one, and I would have totally believed it. It's hard to compete with Michael Crawford, so I have to give him credit for stepping up. It was a bad theme week for David C., and he still pulled it off.
TROY: You know how much I like David Cook
TRACY: Jealous? You want his hair. You know it.
TROY: Anyway, I thought he did a nice, straightforward version of "Music of the Night." It was nice that he just sang the song, rather than have us judge him on a new David Cook-ified version. At the very least, he sounded MUCH better than Gerard Butler's abysmal bass take on the Phantom for the movie version.
TRACY: But Gerard Butler distracted much of his audience from his abysmal bass with sheer hotness. Gotta give him that.
TROY: David Cook is still a capital A Asshat though.
......................RESULTS SHOW.......................
TROY: And your prediction came true. The RESULTS SHOW was a horrifying disaster as we bid adieu to my pick, Carly Smithson. PEOPLE, WHY ARE YOU VOTING FOR JASON CASTRO? HE IS PAINFUL. At least Brooke White is a hilarious disaster.
TRACY: I find nothing hilarious about a woman who sounds like a traffic jam when she speaks.
TROY: Well, next week IS Neil Diamond week. Imagine the possibilities!
TRACY: Trombone fanfares! Hand-claps! Chest hair! This could be fun! Or it could be a whole new level of suckitude....
Sunday, April 27, 2008
When Galaxies Collide (or Random Worry #3)
You all probably already noticed that the Hubble telescope just took some amazing photos of two galaxies colliding. I thought I'd share the intellectually riveting conversation Jose and I had about them. (As an excuse, let me just say that we were both checking email at the time--he on our ancient desktop PC, and I on my laptop. Our conversations usually go a little better than this....)
TRACY: Did you see these Hubble photos?
JOSE: Of what?
TRACY: The two galaxies colliding?
JOSE: No.
TRACY: There are two galaxies colliding.
JOSE: Cool.
TRACY: What if there are aliens living in one of those galaxies?
JOSE: Poor aliens.
TRACY: That would suck, to just be milling about, minding your own business, and this galaxy comes and collides with yours.
JOSE: Mmmm. Yeah.
TRACY: You know, that's really scary!
JOSE: Why?
TRACY: Um, because it's a GALAXY!!! Colliding with one that looks a LOT like ours.
JOSE: Huh.
TRACY: The offending galaxy is just this lumpy little mess, but the other one that's just sitting there is all swirly, like ours.
JOSE: So?
TRACY: SOOOO, what if a galaxy came and collided with us!?
JOSE: I think we'd know if a galaxy was going to collide with us!
TRACY: Yeah, but it's not like we could do anything about it. At least with a meteor, we kind of have a chance. But you can't send the Shuttle up to divert an entire freaking galaxy.
JOSE: Oh. Yeah. ... Guess not.
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About Me
- Tracy Montoya
- Tracy Montoya writes romantic suspense for Harlequin Intrigue.