Come On Down!

So, as you may know, I’m in the middle of a 2-week staycation from work. Last week was full of Christmas prep stuff, and now this week, I’m all laid back and enjoying the time off. It’s been loverly. I’ve made a major life decision too. I’ve decided that I’m going to go on a game show. And then win the million dollar jackpot. I made this decision this morning while I was getting ready to go over to Prinna’s to help her turn her office into a nursery. I was drying my hair and got absolutely sucked in to The Price is Right. And tonight, I caught an episode of Wheel of Fortune, which solidified my plan.

I don’t really watch a lot of game shows on an average day. I have nothing invested in them, you know, like I do with Glee or The Soup. No, game shows are basically good time killers. But tonight, watching Wheel, the guy won like $75,000. Just because he spun a wheel and played Hangman in front of an audience. I could TOTALLY do that. I’m not sure I’d want to be on Wheel of Fortune, though. So, I’ve done a little thinking and decided to become a millionaire on a show that doesn’t rely on arm strength and whether or not I can afford a vowel.

The Price is Right: Prinna LOVES this show. She went on the Vegas version of it when she, Padrin and my mom went to Sin City. I believe she won a washer/dryer or lifetime supply of glue or something. I personally couldn’t do this. Do YOU have any idea how much Gold Bond Medicated Powder costs? Cause I sure don’t. I wouldn’t have any idea how much a set of men’s luxury ties would cost, and wouldn’t make it past Contestant’s Row. Even if DID, I’d only have a chance at Plinko, because that game rules and is totally reliant on luck. Then comes that giant wheel, and I am certain I’d be the first person to spin it, fall on my head, cut my face open and end up with $0.35 anyway. Also, Bob Barker is gone. Nope, the price is wrong for me on this one.

Deal or No Deal: Definitely not. This has everything to do with odds, probability, percentages, and no, just…NO.

Cash Cab: I LOVE this show. It’s a game show, but it takes place IN A CAB. It’s all random trivia, most of which I would have an okay shot at guessing. Plus, even if you lose, you get a free cab ride at least partway to your destination. The one thing that concerns me is that I truly believe I’d be a very annoying contestant. I’d be too loud, too indecisive, and and screaming out “w00t!” more times than anyone ever should. I wish I could be on this show, but I don‘t even live in New York anyways (where the Cab is).

Family Feud: This won’t work for a number of reasons. One being that the total won isn’t all that much because you have to split it amongst the members of your family. Also, there’s NO way my family would agree to dress alike, high five each other every 2 seconds, and NOT berate someone for a bad answer. No, we take Feuds too seriously.

Jeopardy: The only way I’d win big money is if I were playing against kids or celebrities (who aren’t very bright as a whole), or if the categories are like “Britney’s Boyfriends”, “Kate Spade Bag Names”, or “Unscramble this Word” (because I’m really freaky good at that). Otherwise, I’d be leaving a loser.

Name That Tune: I think this is the one for me. I’ve never actually WATCHED this show, but if it ever came back on the air, I’d try out for it. And I’m really hoping that there’s a prize of a million dollars (if not, I would settle for Wheel of Fortune). I would consider that show Don’t Forget the Lyrics, but I just totally hate the hosts of those shows. Regardless, I’m fantastic at knowing the lyrics of songs, and being able to identify them very quickly. Yeah, if there’s a big bank to be won, I think this would definitely be my game show.

So, I guess I’ve got it narrowed down to two. Now I’ve got to work on adjusting my Five Year Plan to include a trip to LA, and an investment in outfits that look good on TV. Plus, I’ll have to make time for all the trips I’ll win to Hawaii, Puerto Rico, and Rome. What about you guys? Which show would you go on?

Dear Santa: Here's Your Naughty List

I’m in a perpetual state of outrage today. I want to run to my window, rip off the plastic, and scream “I’m mad as hell, and I’m not going to take it anymore!” at the top of my lungs. What is going ON with people right now? Okay, so first, last night I read that an extremely talented Iowa Hawkeye football player, Derrell Johnson-Koulianos, was arrested for a number of drug violations. One of them was that he was LIVING IN A DRUG HOUSE. What a total moron…what a disappointment. Do people not learn ANYthing from other athletes who get arrested for stuff like that? And Brett Favre - HELLO!? Are you kidding me with the picture texts? Get it together, dudes.

Secondly, today I learned that the total JOKE that is the Justice System has failed again. Without getting into too many details, I’ll say this. The case Federated Insurance brought against my brother-in-law over 2 years ago has had a trial set for January on the books for over 6 months. Now that we’re getting close to FINALLY tasting justice, there appears to be a “scheduling error” and it’s been postponed. I think they mean “We still don’t have a shred of evidence that anything illegal has taken place.” In my opinion, I think they’ll be spending the holidays panicking, hiding their mistakes, and coming up with $25 words for “We’re effed”.

But what has really gotten my goad, the proverbial straw breaking my camel’s back, the sharp pain in my fleshy backside is Kanye West. I copied his latest album/musical self-gropefest last night from Geo’s iTunes (thanks, Home Sharing!) So luckily, I didn’t have to pay a cent for it. I listened to it today, and discovered a secret. The best parts of his songs are the parts featuring other performers. The collaborations. The non-Kanye self-aggrandizing parts. And as I skipped through his pukey auto-tuned sections, it hit me. Kanye West is truly a celebrity I would like to fall off the face of the planet.

At one time, I followed him on Twitter because I thought it’d be a nice break in the day to read some total bonkers, nutjob rambles. I was wrong. Instead, my Twitter feed would be full of his nonsensical hate-fueled threats to Matt Lauer, Taylor Swift, and other completely innocuous people. Get a different hobby, man. So, I unfollowed him (he’s probably still reeling). I just can’t take it anymore. The sad thing is that musically, he’s crazy-talented. But I just realized I don’t care anymore.

Chances are, a lot of “geniuses” were insane in the membrane a la Mr. West. Van Gogh should have been medicated before his chop-off-the-ol’-ear trick, and I’ve seen Amadeus enough times to know that Mozart was one note away from the loony bin. But these guys let their work speak for them. They didn’t have platforms like Twitter from which to spew their particular brands of madness. So, I wish Kanye would take a cue from those dudes, and fall into obscurity. He’s lost touch with reality, which is just cliche. He’s not the first, he’s not going to be the last. But now is the time to go the way of Lauren Hill and live inside his own private la-la-land.

So, between the d-baggery of athletes, the morally-suspect (if not illegal) actions of big companies, and the celebrities who prophesize themselves as if they are the second coming of Crystal Clear Pepsi, I am over it. Something has got to give. There's got to be a tipping point where people stop acting like idiots and start behaving like proper humans. Is that really too much to ask? I really hope not. If it is, I'm totally moving to Sweden like Elin did to get away from Tiger. Sounds like the Promised Land to me...

P.S. There is actually a great song called Runaway by Kanye West that would be PERFECT for this post, but I'm definitely not posting it. Plus, I think he took down all the "unauthorized" videos of his songs. Seriously. D-Bag.

False Alarm, Tony Danza. Continue to Maintain Your Distance

One of the most commonly misheard lyrics is Elton John's Tiny Dancer, when people sing “Hold me closer, Tony Danza…”. Well, years ago, I was sitting in a car with my friend Ally and singing the words to that very same song. Only I was singing ”Hold me close, I’m tired o’ daaaancin’”. Ally almost drove into a tree because she was laughing so hard. Between gasps for air, and with tears in her eyes, she laughed, “Pharon, it’s the NAME OF THE SONG!” Well, color me embarrassed.

I’m sort of known for picking up lyrics to songs at a freakishly fast rate. I can hear a song once and, usually, sing along with 90% of the song the next time I hear it. It's a gift. However, in my haste, I’ll scoot over a particular line I don’t know and mumble along. The problem is, most of the time I mess up the words, it’s actually the Title Of The Song. How can I pick up everything BESIDES the one thing a song explicitly gives us? Maybe I overthink the lyrics? Maybe I'm not actually LISTENING to the lyrics? I don't know.

For instance, today, I was singing along with a song by Vampire Weekend called Horchata. Until extremely recently (read: Today), I was singing the first line of the song as “In December, drinkin’ Hot Chowdahhh”. The real lyrics are “In December, drinkin’ Horchata”. Yeah. The NAME OF THE SONG is the part I got wrong. Facepalm.

More Proof Of this Pathetic Pattern:
Artist: Boyz II Men and Mariah Carey
Pharon’s Lyrics: Once We Dance
Actual Lyrics/Title of Song: One Sweet Day

Artist: Spin Doctors
Pharon’s Lyrics: One shoe, Prince will sleep before you
Actual Lyrics: One, Two Princes Kneel Before You
Title of Song: Two Princes

Artist: Prince
Pharon’s Lyrics: EIFFEL, DEIFFEL….DOO!!
Actual Lyrics/Title of Song: I would…die 4…U.

I know I’m not alone. There’s a whole website dedicated to misheard lyrics. There are zillions of them, and most are hilarious. But something about the fact that I just can’t comprehend that the SONG TITLE will, most likely, appear IN THE SONG confounds me. Does not compute. No comprende. Error 404-File or Directory Not Found.

Well, thank God for the internet and You Tube. Because of these technological advances, I can watch most song videos after someone has helpfully included the lyrics in the video. I’ll never be wrong again! Unless it's Sting (thanks Family Guy).

What about you? What are some of lyrics you never got quite right? I promise not to laugh. Hard. They can't be worse than Eiffel Deiffel Doo.

Do You Remember?

Finally! The Labor Day weekend can begin! I’ve treated myself to taking Friday off, and look forward to filling my long weekend with hours upon hours of not Laboring. I did some research (a.k.a. briefly breezed through the Wikipedia entry) on Labor Day. Much as the name suggests, Labor Day is a day to celebrate the “working man”. To give rest to those who build the foundation on which this country stands. Also, it’s the official start to the NFL season. w00t.

When I was little I thought Labor Day had something to do with babies. You know, the whole “she’s going into labor!” thing? Yeah, I thought that’s what this weekend was all about. I don’t remember what I must have thought happened to spark the annual federal holiday in terms of a pregnant woman about to give birth, but I imagine it had something to do with the stork. Maybe it was his only day off. Or, his busiest day of the year. Who can say? The fact of the matter is, all things about that thought process were wrong. Such is life…

So Labor Day. The finest holiday I do not understand. According to sources (Wikipedia), there is a declaration that there are supposed to be parades and speeches by prominent leaders. Sounds, uh, fun? I’ll pass on those things. Instead, I will celebrate my love and appreciation for fellow workers by sleeping late, drinking beer, painting my nails, and decorating for my niece’s 5th birthday party. I can’t believe they didn’t include ANY of those national pastimes in the original declaration. Fools.

I do know one thing for sure. Labor Day is the day I start listening to Earth, Wind and Fire’s September on repeat. It’s pretty much the world’s greatest song of all time. I dare you to listen to it and not feel warm inside your bones. There was a perfect Labor Day a couple years ago when my friend Ally, Geo, Perek, and I hung out and played games all day and listened to the song on repeat. For like 3 hours. The best song for the best time of year. Now, I’m going back to watching the final pre-season Vikings game and gearing up for a delicious weekend of relaxing, enjoying the weather, and a whole lotta this:

(Happy Labor Day, kids. Be smart. Be safe. Be Youtiful.)

My Tongue is Killing Me

So, I’ve got the urge tonight to use this blog for evil, instead of good. Lately, I’ve been biting my tongue a lot, and I’m not exactly good at that. I can’t taste spicy foods anymore cause I bit that part clean off. And now, given the platform, I’m tempted to just let loose with a list of things and people who I want to either go away or be completely different. Rude, right? Yeah, I know. But it’s who I am, people. I just can’t be hilarious and nice all the time. I am but a human.

These past few days have reaaalllly tested my “Blogger Oath” to not just write about things I hate or people who are dumb, because I‘ve found myself alternating between screaming and crying at least a dozen times. Maybe it’s because I’m a product of Minnesota Nice, but I try to avoid actual confrontation at all costs. And when someone or something really irks me, I have a really difficult time communicating that. Well, communicating that as an adult. I’ve got a biting passive-aggressiveness that makes even me uncomfortable. And usually it’s either that, or the much-dreaded silent treatment.

Okay, so I’m working on all that, obvs. No one likes a passive-aggressive mute. Instead, I’ve been trying this little thing where I DON’T get all worked up over an annoying phone call at work, or when someone is late, or when I’M late and driving behind Grandma Moses. Geo once told me that his dad says “It’s not worth getting mad at someone/something you can’t control, unless it’s costing you money.” I’m trying to live by that. But there’s this gnawing urge I have to correct people who I believe are wrong, or to explain to them how annoying they can be. Enter: Me, the passive-aggressive beyotch. “I really should tell Beatrice (not her real name) that she needs to type softer on her computer (not a real situation) because really everyone hates her. I mean IT. Everyone hates IT. And she shouldn‘t have to live like that” I feel like it’s a public service I’m doomed to fulfill.

What do other people do? Do you guys really just, like, let things go? Live and let live? Am I really that terrible for getting so frustrated about dumb (and sometimes NOT dumb, but TOTALLY legit) things? Well, I’m listening to a lot of really hardcore rap these days to calm my spazzing nerves. Listening to it makes me feel like “Hey, you know what? Life on the streets probably AIN’T easy. And none of my homies are on death row. So I guess having to sit next to Loudest Talker Ever on the bus might not be that big of a deal.” It’s quite therapeutic, actually. There’s nothing passive about their aggressiveness. Aw man, now I wish I was a rapper.

Happy weekend!

Forgive me...

There are a few things you must know about me. I consider myself a pretty decent judge of music. I was in band and played piano until I was 18, and I go through phases of obsessively listening to every type of music from NWA to Prince to Reba McIntyre to Bob Dylan to Ke$ha. I’d also consider myself a pretty decent judge of literature. I majored in English in college, worked at a magazine for a few years and now work at a publishing company. Lastly, I’m obsessed with all that Kate Spade has ever made and everything she will ever put her name on. So, with all that explained, I have some confessions I’d like to make.

I love Miley Cyrus, Cosmo Magazine, and $10 bags from Heartbreaker stores.

Let me first explain Miley. I nannied for my niece Annabelle when she was 3 years old. I got positively sick of hearing Sesame Street or Dora the Explorer all the time. The happy medium we discovered was Mylie’s show Hannah Montana. She loved the music and colorful clothes, I loved that it wasn’t on PBS. But sweet nibblets! I got majorly sucked in. She’s like the new version of Clarissa Explains it All. So, when her songs started playing on the Top 40 radio station, I couldn’t make myself turn them off. She’s 17, not a “strong” performer yet, probably too provocative, maybe a little irresponsible, but what do I care? She’s not my daughter. So, I download her songs and crank them up. I have no apologies. Plus, I really doubt there’s anyone in the country who doesn’t know the words to Party in the U.S.A.

Second, Cosmo. I’ve read this magazine since I was 15 and stealing them from my older sisters. Cosmo is easy-reading full of girlie need-to-know stuff. Don’t know how to do a smokey eye? Here’s how: in 3 steps. Wondering what goes on in a guys brain on the first date? They’ve already polled 1,000 men. But my favorite part is always the quizzes. They could not be easier to ace. There’s always one crazy choice, one boring choice, and the perfect medium. This month, there’s a “What Kind of Hot Are You?” quiz. The results are: Statement-Making Hot, Down-to-Earth Hot, Bombshell Hot, and Girlie Hot. No matter what I choose, the result is: I’m Hot. It’s like a mug of hot chocolate for my self-esteem.

Finally, cheap bags. The only bag I carry right now is a Kate Spade bag with black and white logos on the outside, and purple silk on the inside. My boyfriend gave it to me for my birthday, and I adore this bag. But unfortunately, I do not enjoy the lifestyle that allows me to purchase Kate Spade items every day. I have Kate Spade shoes, jewelry, bags, wallets, stationary, glassware…most all of which have been gifts. So, when I’m really itching for a new bag, I feel like I’m cheating on Kate by buying a different, cheaper designer’s. Instead, I walk on down to Heartbreaker and by some no-name cheap pleather bag in a crazy color that I‘ll use like 5 times. It costs me all of $10, and I don’t suffer the guilt of investing in something non-Kate. When I’m finally at a point in life where I can choose quality over quantity, I would suggest you invest in Kate Spade stock.

Whew! That felt good to get that off my chest. Now I can get back to BBC and studying Pavarotti.