Revelations (strictly non-Biblical)

I've decided -- discerned, rather -- that I'm being such a shoddy and inconsistent blogstress because I'm weaning you off of the blog for when I can't write in it (when my parents come), when I won't have anything to write about (Christmas Break) and when my inspiration and internet access will be unreliable (J-Term).

Oh yeah... and because I'm lazy.

Tonight I went to see Unfaithful with my favorite poetess, Laura Spence, and somehow a conversation about Diane Lane's boobs transformed monstrously into a heated "debate" about iconoclasm and Hollywood propaganda. The only mutual conclusion reached was that neither of us are good debaters because we're far too easily inflamed. My favorite thing about myself is how I talk bullshit and statements fly out of my mouth that can be easily misconstrued. Because of this, I often end up painting myself into a corner because I'd rather argue a topic to the death, until I'm right or until I'm bored and know I won't win -- even if I don't agree with it. Of course this is preferable to a.) knowing what I'm talking about in the first place or b.) admitting that I may be wrong or may have mis-stated something. The problem is that I'm not good at debating even when I do stand on firm ground, forget trying to play Devil's Advocate.

So, a caveat: Don't trick me into a debate that you know I'll follow through with because then I'll have to spend unecessary words pontificating as I am now, and the burden will ultimately fall on you. Anyway, I don't know how much longer my laptop can stand my ego crumbling into pieces and falling in between the keys.

Another revelation is that Lanford's Literary Korner ain't gonna happen. I really enjoyed the novel How to Lose Friends & Alienate People by Toby Young, and I think you should all go and read it, but it's been too long at this point to dredge it up for you and give you a list of pros and cons. So go out there, tykes, just take my advice on blind faith! (I will tell you that the book involves a strip-o-gram incident, if that makes you more confident in your faith.)

So that's all I have to say for now. I was going to include an obscure Simpsons quote, but the moments between shower and blog have obliterated it from my mind, so I'll just let the littlest Wiggum speak for me: "Go banana!"

A Blog in Three Movements

So this will be a rather disjointed blog, but I doubt many of you immediately think "focus" and "clarity" when my glorious image pops into your head, so there you go...

Movement 1: Worrthless
(2 r's very much intentional, in the manner of "Dirrty" or "Hot in Herre")

If vacuums are places that are completely void of air, then room 33H of Courtyard B, UEA NR5 8NA is completely devoid of inspiration, which is no good since I spent the majority of my time here. I think all these years of school in America has trained me to shut down at this time of year. Basically, I'm on Thanksgiving break with the rest of my American schoolmates. The problem? I'm in England, where they don't really appreciate the story of the Indians and the Pilgrims since we were escaping their tyrannical religious rule in order to establish such a (face it) useless tradition.

But darn that turkey & stuffing is delish...

Movement 2: Felicitations!

Today was perhaps my best day in a long time. Tuesdays are beautiful because I have nothing to do. I can sleep in as long as I want and do with my day what I wish.

Well, yesterday was a day to go into town with my dependable and lovely friend Laura, a.k.a. Spence. I emphasize the word dependable because I admire it as a trait of a friend more than good looks, but she might rather me emphasize her loveliness, so here I go: Spence is lovely.

Anyhow, Spence and I had an official friend date yesterday. We started by going into town and testing out Norwich's attempt at Mexican fare (or fayre, as they would spell it): Pedro's. Well, Pedro's did themselves proud, and were nice enough to seat us at 1:20 when the lunch hour closed at 1:30. We drooled over the extensive cocktails menu, but had our sights set on getting the Sangria, and Sangria we did get. It was delightful, not too heavily red-winey (and as we learned after the meal, they put extra Brandy in it for us!) **slurp, slurp** Anyhow, I got my red meat fix for a long time by having nachos, and they were delightful. I enjoy having good Mexican food... and by good, I mean not from Middining (huuuuurl).

Then we wandered around town, a la 80s movie, trying on funny hats at a store called "Accessorize", trying out the goods @ TopShop (a store very much in the tradition of H&M). Spence also tried to sell me on Caffe Nero's mocha, but a coffee chick I am not. Oh yeah, and then we went to this funny cards and paper store, where we saw chocolate dicks and pictures of grandmas, studs and morbidly obese women nekkid.

Then we purified ourselves with Lilo & Stitch, which I think is the greatest thing Disney has done since the Lion King. It verges on ridiculous at times and takes too long to get started, but little Lilo is the cutest thing EVER! It'll rip your heart out... in a good way. (It will be a definite addition to the DVD collection when I get home... one of MANY -- I'm going into new DVD deprivation over here in region 2!)

So, all in all, it was a brilliant day, and I returned home after purchasing pesto and a variety of "exotic" groceries at Tesco Metro. (Tesco Metro Pesto is the best-o!)

And now for the most exciting news of the day: I got a $3,000 grant for a creative non-fiction project while I'm in NYC this January!!!!

**crowds roar**

Here is how I described my project in my proposal:

In the vein of David Sedaris, Anna Quindlen or Candace Bushnell, my project will be a comprehensive account of my life and experiences in New York throughout January 2003. More specifically, it will be an answer to Toby Young’s recent How to Lose Friends & Alienate People, which recounts the British writer’s failure to make it in the American magazine circuit. I plan to embrace the humor that Young, Bushnell and Sedaris offer but present a less cynical, less stereotypically “New York” take on the city in the spirit of Quindlen. Essentially, the project will be a retrospective, reflection and affirmation of the experience of my inevitable evolution under the guidance of the vast and changing cultural milieu that is the city itself.

I may be florid, and I may be prolix, but apparently it pays off. Big time... In related news, Jay Parini is my new favorite person in the English Department (not to mention a connection to the charming and delightful Stanley Tucci).

Of course, as soon as I got the good news, I was simultaneously excited (I jumped up and down several time, I admit) and terrified. It's amazing to think that someone finds my blatantly derivative idea worth money, but definitely a daunting task because how am I gonna measure up to this? It's one thing to continually get thwarted from opportunities and say, "I coulda been a contender." It's another matter entirely to actually get an opportunity and prove yourself worthy of, say, $3,000 (roughly $100 a day, I might add). But at least this takes care of the fact that I won't be doing any writing in my internship.

Maybe that's why I'm so unmotivated now. I'm just storing up energy and inspiration for January's mini-memoir. **fingers crossed**

Final Movement: La Bella Venezia

So, kiddies, I hope none of you have turned blue now, what with your anxious waiting for my account of international travel to Venice. ("Violet, you're turning violet, Violet!") Anyhow, any of you that were holding your breath can exhale with relief now because here I go!

The night before Venice, I made 2 CDs, one of which was a compilation of American Idol (Kelly Clarkson, in particular), Aida and (get this) The White Stripes. Random mingling, I know, but all of the American Idol and White Stripes songs were like a minute and a half, so I went for as much music as possible on the least amount of CDs possible.

The other CD I made was my International Traveller Mix. I listened to this and the AIda Stripes mix almost exclusively during my lengthy commute between Norwich-London-Venezia-London-Norwich, so I would highly making at least one of these CDs for yourself. Here are the tracks on the International Traveller Mix:

1.) Christina Aguilera - Dirrty
2.) Holly Valance - Down Boy
3.) Kylie Minogue - Give It to Me
4.) Shakira - Objection (Tango)
5.) Justin Timberlake - Like I Love You
6.) Brandy - What About Us
7.) Nina Simone - Mood Indigo
8.) Queen - Fat Bottomed Girls
9.) Goo Goo Dolls - Here Is Gone
10.) Alanis Morissette - Princes Familiar
11.) Badly Drawn Boy - A Minor Incident
12.) Gabrielle - Don't Need the Sun To Shine
13.) Ryan Gosling - Put Me in the Car
14.) Tori Amos - A Sorta Fairytale
15.) K's Choice - Live for Real
16.) Azure Ray - Displaced
17.) Sixpence None the Richer - Need to Be Next to You
18.) Bryan Adams & Sarah McLachlan - Don't Let Go
19.) Craig David - Walking Away

The trip to Venice itself wasn't that eventful, thank goodness! I did, however, see a line of freaky people with afro wigs and/or dressed in bear costumes in Stansted Airport. Don't even ask me why. If I were going to travel in a group, I think I'd specifically try to avoid being associated with "the group" by wearing something outlandish like an afro wig or a full bear costume, but that's just me. Maybe I'm the weird one... it wouldn't be the first time.

So, I get to Venice (oh yeah, only after hearing this irritating Italian girl sing the last two lines of "Love Me Do" repeatedly for the last 15 minutes of the flight), and finally get to see my Sarebear! I had planned out this whole Italian conversation to have with her, but as usual I pollo-d out. We had a bus ride and a walk ahead of us, and I was wearing a massive backpack. But because of acqua alta steadily encroaching on Venice, that was better than having a rolling suitcase (not to mention the fact that I still haven't fixed the one-wheeled ghetto-case). We immediately indulged in pizza with Sarah's boyfriend Neal. Amo funghi sulla mia pizza!

The next couple of days had nothing of major note or that anyone would immediately recognize as "tourist spots" (for example, Frari, San Giorgio Il Maggiore & La Grande Scuola di San Rocco), but I got to learn things from Sarah (she knows everything), meet some lovely new people from Wake Forest, participate in real-life instant message with their (deaf) Italian friend Fabio, learn a Venetian card game and eat gelato as well as several delicious meals (home-cooked and otherwise)!

Sarah's group was so cool. There were your typical Southern university sorority girls, don't get me wrong, but it was definitely a group. They all live and study together, and they're all (obviously) from Wake Forest, so there's a bond that I am yearning for. It's been far too long a solitary and make-shift journey at this point for my liking. I'm ready for some dependability (a motif of today's blog, I fear) and stability. Unfortunately, I won't be getting that until about February, but I digress...

Anyhow, Venice was beautiful!!! Wake's housing was right on the Grand Canal, so it was water-licious. I had forgotten how important water is; it really just is calming. If nothing else, you can just watch it flow and stop for a minute. Like looking out of a plane when you're about to land. No matter how little the landscape changes below you, it still holds your attention. It also made me realize how much England sucks. No offense, Brits, but you're country is damn rainy, damn dark and damn cold. Sunset at 3:45 in the afternoon and being surrounded by a bunch of pale zombies is not my cup of tea (pun intended), and I really do need to get out of here soon before I plunge into an abysmal depression.

A more pleasant, or at least amusing, side note of the story is that I realized why my shoes don't protect my feet from the water: they have holes in them! The soles are seriously falling off. This fact was really brought to my attention in San Rocco when I heard a scraping noise coming from my feet and discovered that I had some sort of metal tool lodged inside my shoe! Just slightly frightening. Good job, Delia*s!

But other than the frequent changing of socks, the weekend went without too much craziness. It was a nice change of pace from most trips that when I left, I didn't feel the need to leave without killing at least a few people around me. I definitely suffered a post-vacation hangover (metaphoric, not from drinking because I'm a good girl) when I got home and had assignments to do and papers due in a couple of weeks that could no longer be put off.

Concluding (but rather inconclusive) Thoughts

So now, here I am, in that strange limbo between here and there, now and then. Mom, Dad & Graham are coming up in a couple of weeks, and for once it seems like my life is falling into order, ready for the next stage and the beginning to a nice end of my college career, but I know there will be bumps along the way. Send me positive vibes and strength because I need them...

Two for you!

So, I'm back on the homefront (Norwich). My time here draws to a close but the schoolwork continues. My journalism assignment for tomorrow was to write 2 250-word opinion pieces on a topical issue, one for and one against. So, of course, me being the fluffer-nutter I am, I chose Justin Timberlake's ascension (or the speculation therein) to the throne of the King of Pop now occupied very unstably by Michael Jackson. (That was a horrible sentence, so just read the articles -- they're short -- and hopefully you'll get the idea).

Also, I am back from Venice. It was lovely and a half times seven. I'll write extensively about it later, but for now it is late, and this is the only bone I can throw you. Bless...

All Hail King Justin

Critics and fans alike have touted Justin Timberlake’s solo debut (Justified) as the Off the Wall of Generation Y.

Timberlake – modest Memphan that he is – downplays such lofty aspirations: “I don’t think you can compare it [with Off the Wall]. … I wouldn’t do that to myself.”

But he recognizes an undeniable commonality between his debut and Jackson’s: “That was a moment in time when Michael was willing to show the world exactly what he could do by himself. He was no longer just a part of the Jackson 5.”

It’s about time to deflect attention from Jacko’s shenanigans. When he wears surgical masks in public, sequesters himself to his Neverland Ranch and dangles his children over German balconies, the star paint himself as a mentally unstable curmudgeon, not a world-class pop star.

A generation removed, Timberlake’s has a fresh-faced, straight-off-the-boy-bandwagon enthusiasm (normalcy, even). He anticipates the support of his fans and gives back to them through charity and performance.

What’s more, Timberlake does not have Jackson’s dicey history, making him more appealing, less alienated. Timberlake doesn’t need to announce to the world that he is “Bad” or Invincible, he simply wants to “justify” himself as an artist after his pre-fab days at the helm of *NSync.

He is what Michael Jackson used to be.

While the future of the England’s throne may be questionable, the lineage of pop royalty in America is undeniable: the entertainment media is polishing Justin Timberlake’s scepter right now.

Timberlake’s Treasonous Mediocrity

Are Justin Timberlake’s hopes to equal Michael Jackson’s legacy Justified? Decidedly not.

Many have touted Timberlakes’s solo debut as the Off the Wall of Generation Y. Timberlake feigns modesty in British magazine Attitude, saying: “I don’t think you can compare [Justified with Off the Wall]. … I wouldn’t do that to myself.”

Yet he continues without skipping a beat: “That was a moment in time when Michael was willing to show the world exactly what he could do by himself. He was no longer just a part of the Jackson 5.”

The flagrant set-up is lost on the sycophantic, drooling reporter who responds with stars in his eyes: “But isn’t this the moment you show the world what you can do without *NSync?”

Note to Timberlake: You are not Michael Jackson, even if you have dreamed about this since you “was a little boy.”

Memphis, Tennessee, is not Gary, Indiana, and the painful losses suffered on Star Search will never compare to the pain of physical and emotional abuse from Joe Jackson.

*NSync was never the Jackson 5 – the pre-fab fiscal ventures of Lou Perlman will never compare to a family overcoming racial and cultural prohibitions to dominate the American subconscious for decades.

We do not need a new Michael Jackson. He is, was and forever will be The King; in comparison, Justin Timberlake barely pulls off the title of Lady in Waiting.