**COMMENT AS OF 2:27 FRIDAY: I was just informed by a dear friend that the video embedded below is... well, perhaps less than appropriate. I apologize for this oversight, and can only excuse my behavior by saying that I haven't exactly watched the whole thing. Sorry. You see, I usually just put this on in my bathroom as I get ready in the morning. So do like me, turn it on, and then stop watching.
Just listen.
**COMMENT AS OF 2:39 FRIDAY: Woah. She wasn't kidding. This is kind of disturbing. Really, please don't watch the video. And please don't judge me.
I have a confession.
I am totally, 100% obsessed, in love, infatuated with, and consumed with Gaga's new song "You and I."
(Yes, I realize that I left off those two strange Dutch or Finnish or whatever marks about the "u" in "You." I don't know how to type that biz and I don't understand Gaga's creative desire to put them there. Sue me.)
I also finally looked up the lyrics and realized that the "You" in this song is referred to as "Nebraska" by Ms. Germanotti. And then I read the line that says "There's only three men I'm going to serve my whole life... That's my Daddy and Nebraska and Jesus Christ" which made me feel like a gajillion times better because all this time I'd thought she was saying the three men were "The Dalai (as in Lama?) and the Rasta (wasn't sure about this one, but that didn't stop me from singing it) and Jesus Christ."
So, despite the fact that I have absolutely zero affection for Nebraska, I certainly do for my Daddy, and I now love this song exponentially more. Don't have to sing about that Rasta fella either. What a relief.
Anyway, I stalk the radio stations for this song like I used to do for "Who Says." And let me tell you what... I never win the battle against this song. It is the most elusive Gaga song to ever come around. (Even more elusive than "Speechless," which up until this point was my fave.
So today, after 9 hours of work and 2 hours of dining room table pick-up and installation (done by yours truly- pictures to come) when I turned my radio to Top 20 and heard "This time I'm not leaving without you..." I almost died of excitement. Don't judge, I've been looking for this song on the radio for about 8 days now.
And then I heard the worst thing ever... Ryan Seacrest's voice welcoming me back to the Top 20 Countdown. That trickster Gaga ends the song in the exact same way she begins it.
So, just like a normal 22 year old would react, I shouted really embarrassingly loudly, "NO! YOU SUCK!" and slammed my little fist on my armrest in a fit of rage.
If anyone saw that, I hope I made their entire night.
Here's the vid, which is weird and awesome and... weird. But it's Gaga.
Totally worth the $1.29 it would cost to buy it on iTunes, but that is just way too logical of a solution to my problem.
So I will continue to stalk the radio stations in fruitless pursuit of this dang song.
Bring it on, Seacrest.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Day 20: Nicknames
How I wish I had little to say on this subject.
You see, I've noticed that nicknames are positive and cute about 10% of the time, and the rest of the time they develop out of a particularly embarrassing or strange characteristic of a person. At least, that's the case with me.
Let's start at the very beginning... My mom started calling me "Lindsay Lou Who" after reading The Grinch who Stole Christmas to me and taking a certain liking to "Cindy Lou Who." Thus began the "Lou" phase of my life, the longest enduring nickname to date. This is easily translated to "Lou Lou," which I hear almost every time I call my mom. She picks up the phone and sing-song's those words to me almost daily. I like it.
Then I entered the dark days. I guess a little background is needed... I'm a little strange. I know this, and I've accepted it, and most days I try to use it to my advantage. But I do erratic things sometimes and maybe sometimes I do them at a really fast pace. Some might call it spastic.
Well, some did call it spastic. For about 3 years in High School, I was commonly known as "Spazzy," or more simply, "Spaz." The z's are important. I'm vaguely remembering the nickname forming out of my habit of running into walls... Because that probably looked weird to passersby. Don't worry, I wasn't mentally deranged, I just lack peripheral vision. Maybe they are one in the same. Looking back, I probably should have been offended by this, but at the time it was just my name. I responded to this call and everything, like a trained dog. Awesome.
Then I somehow became "Mama Linds." What a turnaround. From "Spaz" to "Mama Linds" in about a year. I grew up fast. The "Mama" part I believe came from my habit of wanting to take care of everyone. And my tendency to cook a lot. And babysit. And wear Mom clothes sometimes because I lack common style sense.
I should stop.
So there you have it. My varied and mainly demeaning nicknames. Thanks a lot, buds.
You see, I've noticed that nicknames are positive and cute about 10% of the time, and the rest of the time they develop out of a particularly embarrassing or strange characteristic of a person. At least, that's the case with me.
Let's start at the very beginning... My mom started calling me "Lindsay Lou Who" after reading The Grinch who Stole Christmas to me and taking a certain liking to "Cindy Lou Who." Thus began the "Lou" phase of my life, the longest enduring nickname to date. This is easily translated to "Lou Lou," which I hear almost every time I call my mom. She picks up the phone and sing-song's those words to me almost daily. I like it.
Then I entered the dark days. I guess a little background is needed... I'm a little strange. I know this, and I've accepted it, and most days I try to use it to my advantage. But I do erratic things sometimes and maybe sometimes I do them at a really fast pace. Some might call it spastic.
Well, some did call it spastic. For about 3 years in High School, I was commonly known as "Spazzy," or more simply, "Spaz." The z's are important. I'm vaguely remembering the nickname forming out of my habit of running into walls... Because that probably looked weird to passersby. Don't worry, I wasn't mentally deranged, I just lack peripheral vision. Maybe they are one in the same. Looking back, I probably should have been offended by this, but at the time it was just my name. I responded to this call and everything, like a trained dog. Awesome.
Then I somehow became "Mama Linds." What a turnaround. From "Spaz" to "Mama Linds" in about a year. I grew up fast. The "Mama" part I believe came from my habit of wanting to take care of everyone. And my tendency to cook a lot. And babysit. And wear Mom clothes sometimes because I lack common style sense.
I should stop.
So there you have it. My varied and mainly demeaning nicknames. Thanks a lot, buds.
Just kidding. Nicknames are a sign of endearment, right?
...Right?
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Day 19: Something You Miss
Didn't think I was gonna make it today, didja?
That's okay, I didn't either. My little challenge definitely took a back seat to the other erratic and certifiably ridiculous events of my day. If only I could share on a public forum... but alas, I believe that is referred to as slander. Or libel. Media Law is fading quickly.
But low and behold, here I am, with more senseless musings to entertain you.
Or entertain me... either way.
Something I miss. Well, normally I would have posted a picture of my family and been good and done with it, but they left me in Cali only 2 days ago. So I don't miss y'all yet.
Just kidding! I always miss y'all and your strange habits and ism's.
But today, of all days, what I really miss is school. Call me crazy, (I would have too a year ago) but man, students have it made. Seriously, students out there, you have it made.
I especially miss high school. My good friend Mern and I often muse on the fact that life was so incredibly carefree in high school. The biggest worry I had on many days was whether I had the match to the correct cheer bobby socks for the ice-cream social that evening.
(Seriously, every word of that sentence is the truth. Cue small town jokes now.)
Now looking back, with jobs and bosses and pressures and bills and groceries and laundry and oil changes stacking up... I really kinda just wish I could start right over at Freshman year.
Of high school.
Here's me and my little sis on the first day of school about 5 years ago. Now she is taller than me and probably looks older too. That's cool.
But seriously, I wish I could zap myself back. I want to see people I haven't seen all summer, and find out which friends are in each class, and prepare for the first all-important pep rally. And stay in the high school gym that reeks of sweat and popcorn until midnight on a Thursday night hanging strange streamers and balloons from the ceiling and pretending people are going to care the next day. And I want to make lunch plans with friends, and race out of the parking lot to beat the lines. And I want to listen to the Eagles for an hour and a half every other day in Art class and paint obscure oil paintings for months and months on end in horrid smocks.
...Well, if this whole Hollywood business fails, I guess I could always be a teacher.
Maybe that will make me not sound like such a has-been. Cause after this post, that's exactly what I sound like...
I'll work on that.
That's okay, I didn't either. My little challenge definitely took a back seat to the other erratic and certifiably ridiculous events of my day. If only I could share on a public forum... but alas, I believe that is referred to as slander. Or libel. Media Law is fading quickly.
But low and behold, here I am, with more senseless musings to entertain you.
Or entertain me... either way.
Something I miss. Well, normally I would have posted a picture of my family and been good and done with it, but they left me in Cali only 2 days ago. So I don't miss y'all yet.
Just kidding! I always miss y'all and your strange habits and ism's.
But today, of all days, what I really miss is school. Call me crazy, (I would have too a year ago) but man, students have it made. Seriously, students out there, you have it made.
I especially miss high school. My good friend Mern and I often muse on the fact that life was so incredibly carefree in high school. The biggest worry I had on many days was whether I had the match to the correct cheer bobby socks for the ice-cream social that evening.
(Seriously, every word of that sentence is the truth. Cue small town jokes now.)
Now looking back, with jobs and bosses and pressures and bills and groceries and laundry and oil changes stacking up... I really kinda just wish I could start right over at Freshman year.
Of high school.
But seriously, I wish I could zap myself back. I want to see people I haven't seen all summer, and find out which friends are in each class, and prepare for the first all-important pep rally. And stay in the high school gym that reeks of sweat and popcorn until midnight on a Thursday night hanging strange streamers and balloons from the ceiling and pretending people are going to care the next day. And I want to make lunch plans with friends, and race out of the parking lot to beat the lines. And I want to listen to the Eagles for an hour and a half every other day in Art class and paint obscure oil paintings for months and months on end in horrid smocks.
...Well, if this whole Hollywood business fails, I guess I could always be a teacher.
Maybe that will make me not sound like such a has-been. Cause after this post, that's exactly what I sound like...
I'll work on that.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Day 18: Favorite Place to Eat
**Disclaimer: I would like to apologize for my utter and complete abandonment of my blog and 30 Day Challenge. As many of you have noted, my 30 Days seem to be turning into something close to... well, probably close to 50. Shame on me. I know. Working on finishing strong. Working on making it to work every day too. And now boot camp. Oy vey.
Man, this is tough. Especially since I live in LA, widely known to have some of the best food in America. At least thats what I like to tell myself when I notice my jeans are super-duper snug. Ugh. Blame it on the pasta.
Which brings me to my next topic- pasta. I never knew I was such a fan of Italian. This is probably due to the fact that Mexican food in Austin, TX is basically to-die-for and I ate it about 90% of the time I went out to eat. Sorry bout it.
But alas, Mexican food doesn't exist in Los Angeles. At least it doesn't exist in the sense I would like it to, which is greasy and spicy and smothered in cheese.
...What?
So I have ventured out of my comfort food box into a world of possibilities in the form of food from Italia. And let me tell you... if there is one thing that LA does well, it's Italian.
Let me introduce you to Il Pastaio. A lovely little gem on a quiet corner in Beverly Hills with pasta that will make you melt. The pasta is all hand-cut in the kitchen and the flavors are incredible. My sweet rooms introduced me to this little joint and I have now made it part of my weekly routine. Okay, I've gone twice, but whatever.
Trust me on this one... next time you're in LA, just do it. You're likely to see a celeb or two wandering around, because even they can't resist this place.
Oh, yeah. These folks have a ton of wine, too. Like... a ton.
What's not to love?
Man, this is tough. Especially since I live in LA, widely known to have some of the best food in America. At least thats what I like to tell myself when I notice my jeans are super-duper snug. Ugh. Blame it on the pasta.
Which brings me to my next topic- pasta. I never knew I was such a fan of Italian. This is probably due to the fact that Mexican food in Austin, TX is basically to-die-for and I ate it about 90% of the time I went out to eat. Sorry bout it.
But alas, Mexican food doesn't exist in Los Angeles. At least it doesn't exist in the sense I would like it to, which is greasy and spicy and smothered in cheese.
...What?
So I have ventured out of my comfort food box into a world of possibilities in the form of food from Italia. And let me tell you... if there is one thing that LA does well, it's Italian.
Let me introduce you to Il Pastaio. A lovely little gem on a quiet corner in Beverly Hills with pasta that will make you melt. The pasta is all hand-cut in the kitchen and the flavors are incredible. My sweet rooms introduced me to this little joint and I have now made it part of my weekly routine. Okay, I've gone twice, but whatever.
Trust me on this one... next time you're in LA, just do it. You're likely to see a celeb or two wandering around, because even they can't resist this place.
Oh, yeah. These folks have a ton of wine, too. Like... a ton.
What's not to love?
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Day 17: Something You're Looking Forward To
There are so many things that fit this bill right now.
I am looking forward to an interview (for a real, paying job!) this afternoon at 3:00.
(That's 5:00 pm Texas time, for all of you that want to say a prayer for me! I certainly wouldn't say no!)
The interview is to assist a pretty fabulous screenwriter. I have very little idea what this entails, but I want the job all the same.
Wait, maybe I shouldn't make that statement quite yet.
I am also really, really, super duper excited about my family coming to town TOMORROW! All four of them. I saw my parents about a month ago but I haven't seen my sisters in... well, about 2 months. Not too long, I guess.
But my mom has compiled a long list of activities for us, so I'm sure I will be fully entertained. Bring on the whale watching!
I am looking forward to an interview (for a real, paying job!) this afternoon at 3:00.
(That's 5:00 pm Texas time, for all of you that want to say a prayer for me! I certainly wouldn't say no!)
The interview is to assist a pretty fabulous screenwriter. I have very little idea what this entails, but I want the job all the same.
Wait, maybe I shouldn't make that statement quite yet.
I am also really, really, super duper excited about my family coming to town TOMORROW! All four of them. I saw my parents about a month ago but I haven't seen my sisters in... well, about 2 months. Not too long, I guess.
But my mom has compiled a long list of activities for us, so I'm sure I will be fully entertained. Bring on the whale watching!
Monday, August 15, 2011
Day 13, 14, 15, 16... I suck.
I know, I know. My real life is just too darn exciting. Actually, the excitement comes and goes, but the business is pretty stinking constant. I don't know how these working people do it. I hardly manage to shave my legs once a week.
Too much?
Excuses, excuses right? Okay here goes. I am going to attempt to catch up on the vast number of days I missed. Oh and gonna go ahead and call a time out for next Wednesday-Sunday. I will definitely, 100% be gone and blog-free for those days, because my sweet family is coming to visit and I have better things to do than entertain them via the Internet. Like entertain them in person. Ha. Get excited for that one, McClendons!
Day 13: Goals
I'm going to keep it short and simple here.
I want to be happy. I want to be surrounded by people that make me want to be a better person. I want to show people the love of Christ through my life. I want to create things that make people smile, whether it's a film or just a really pretty cake. And I want to laugh so much that I have premature crows-feet around my eyes. (Whoopsie-daisy, already accomplished that one. Sheesh.)
Day 14: Picture of Yourself Last Year- how have you changed?
I don't really know why I chose this photo, other than the face that it was about a year ago and I really miss all these folks. And I had hair. If you don't get this, then you must be new. I talk about this embarrassing physical deformity often. It helps me deal.
Physically speaking, that is the only real physical change I've undergone. In the last 5 years. Apparently I factor out to around 17 when people guess my age. Cool.
Day 15: Bible Verse
Oh heavens, where to begin? I have some all time favorites, but then there are those that just are so divinely placed in life it knocks your socks off.
I guess I'll go with the verse that was all over my mind (and radio) today. I listen to "The Message" in the morning on my way to work almost every morning. Sometimes Christian radio annoys me to no end (and I mean that in the best possible way, by the way) but sometimes it's really wonderful. I wasn't super excited about work today and was wondering how I'd deal with some of the junk I get to deal with every day and I heard "Strong Enough" by Matthew West. And I started belting out "I can do all things... Through Christ who gives me strength..." all the way down Hollywood Blvd. It was wonderful and all through the day when I whenever I was annoyed and frustrated I would hear that chorus over and over in my head.
So there. Philippians 4:13. Call it a cliche. Call it whatever you want, it's a great verse. Nothing is too big for the Lord of Creation to deal with. And I don't have to be strong enough. And that is an incredible truth.
Day 16: Dream House
I have to say again, oh heavens... where to begin?
So, I'm going to admit something about myself (again) that might be somewhat embarrassing. I seem to be using this forum as a confessional for stupid things about myself. I will say, (again,) I should stop this behavior.
Oh, what the heck. This little beauty is one of my favorite websites.
I dare you to try to spend only 5 minutes on here: Hooked on Houses.
Some highlights from my (many) hours of browsing...
I could just die in this living room from "Something's Gotta Give." It makes me really, really happy.
I also totally love Cameron Diaz' house from "The Holiday." Don't even pretend you weren't watching the house more than the characters. Oh, you were? Guess I should go back and watch it again.
This is a hotel in Santa Monica that I am totally in love with. I am totally going to go someday. Wonder if they gave free room tours?
So, I guess if you combined all of the above that might create something like a "dream home" to me. I am from Texas though and will probably end up with something closer to this.
Guess that's not too shabby, though.
Too much?
Excuses, excuses right? Okay here goes. I am going to attempt to catch up on the vast number of days I missed. Oh and gonna go ahead and call a time out for next Wednesday-Sunday. I will definitely, 100% be gone and blog-free for those days, because my sweet family is coming to visit and I have better things to do than entertain them via the Internet. Like entertain them in person. Ha. Get excited for that one, McClendons!
Day 13: Goals
I'm going to keep it short and simple here.
I want to be happy. I want to be surrounded by people that make me want to be a better person. I want to show people the love of Christ through my life. I want to create things that make people smile, whether it's a film or just a really pretty cake. And I want to laugh so much that I have premature crows-feet around my eyes. (Whoopsie-daisy, already accomplished that one. Sheesh.)
Day 14: Picture of Yourself Last Year- how have you changed?
Physically speaking, that is the only real physical change I've undergone. In the last 5 years. Apparently I factor out to around 17 when people guess my age. Cool.
Day 15: Bible Verse
Oh heavens, where to begin? I have some all time favorites, but then there are those that just are so divinely placed in life it knocks your socks off.
I guess I'll go with the verse that was all over my mind (and radio) today. I listen to "The Message" in the morning on my way to work almost every morning. Sometimes Christian radio annoys me to no end (and I mean that in the best possible way, by the way) but sometimes it's really wonderful. I wasn't super excited about work today and was wondering how I'd deal with some of the junk I get to deal with every day and I heard "Strong Enough" by Matthew West. And I started belting out "I can do all things... Through Christ who gives me strength..." all the way down Hollywood Blvd. It was wonderful and all through the day when I whenever I was annoyed and frustrated I would hear that chorus over and over in my head.
So there. Philippians 4:13. Call it a cliche. Call it whatever you want, it's a great verse. Nothing is too big for the Lord of Creation to deal with. And I don't have to be strong enough. And that is an incredible truth.
Day 16: Dream House
I have to say again, oh heavens... where to begin?
So, I'm going to admit something about myself (again) that might be somewhat embarrassing. I seem to be using this forum as a confessional for stupid things about myself. I will say, (again,) I should stop this behavior.
Oh, what the heck. This little beauty is one of my favorite websites.
I dare you to try to spend only 5 minutes on here: Hooked on Houses.
Some highlights from my (many) hours of browsing...
I could just die in this living room from "Something's Gotta Give." It makes me really, really happy.
So, I guess if you combined all of the above that might create something like a "dream home" to me. I am from Texas though and will probably end up with something closer to this.
Guess that's not too shabby, though.
Monday, August 8, 2011
Day 12: Something I Don't Leave Home Without
I started out thinking very practically about this question.
Phone: Lame. Who does leave home without their phone?
Wallet: Super lame.
Sunglasses: Pathetic LA.
Perfect nails: Pathetic diva. (Sad but true.)
My track record wasn't looking great. So I actually dug through my purse to find something interesting. You know what came out??
(Does anyone remember that Raffi song, by the way? The one that goes, "You know what came out-what came out-a bouncing ball- boing, boing...")
Sorry.
What came out was a squishy little Sleep Pretty in Pink Earplug. And I realized, I really don't go anywhere without these babies.
They follow me around like Hansel and Gretel's breadcrumbs. If you follow them long enough, you're sure to find me. I also own a ridiculous quantity of these. They are coming out of my ears... in more ways than one. Hardy har har...
Sorry. I'll stop.
Here's the deal with the earplugs. I feel like I need to explain myself or this entire blog entry is going to be completely absurd. (Speaking of the word "absurd," I've realized that I use it a lot. I think this is because at one point in Titanic Kate Winslet declares that something that Jack said is "absurd." Now I haven't stopped saying it for like the past 10 years. Absurd, absurd, absurd...)
I should seriously stop admitting stuff like that.
Anyway, here's the deal with the earplugs, Round 2. I lived in a sorority house for 2 years. It was wonderful and communal and lovely and delicious and harmonious, and also very loud at night. Those metal slits in the doors let in every peep from the hallway, and let me tell you, the Chi Omega hallway was a happening place on random Tuesday nights around 3 am. Therefore, I started plugging my ears up every night as I went to bed, and I was rarely ever disturbed again.
But then something terrible happened... I became addicted to the earplugs. Now, the most delicate of noises will drive me absolutely bonkers when I am trying to fall asleep. An air conditioner that goes on and off? Misery. A squeaky ceiling fan? Forget about it. I am addicted to muted and smothered sounds for a good night's sleep. And if you know me, a good night's sleep is very important.
Therefore, I consistently throw these little babies in every overnight bag I have, every toiletry bag I own, and every purse I might ever take out of the house.
Because let me tell you, there's nothing worse than being stuck without your Pretty in Pinks.
Word to the wise: Just say no to earplugs. They'll get you good.
Phone: Lame. Who does leave home without their phone?
Wallet: Super lame.
Sunglasses: Pathetic LA.
Perfect nails: Pathetic diva. (Sad but true.)
My track record wasn't looking great. So I actually dug through my purse to find something interesting. You know what came out??
(Does anyone remember that Raffi song, by the way? The one that goes, "You know what came out-what came out-a bouncing ball- boing, boing...")
Sorry.
What came out was a squishy little Sleep Pretty in Pink Earplug. And I realized, I really don't go anywhere without these babies.
They follow me around like Hansel and Gretel's breadcrumbs. If you follow them long enough, you're sure to find me. I also own a ridiculous quantity of these. They are coming out of my ears... in more ways than one. Hardy har har...
Sorry. I'll stop.
Here's the deal with the earplugs. I feel like I need to explain myself or this entire blog entry is going to be completely absurd. (Speaking of the word "absurd," I've realized that I use it a lot. I think this is because at one point in Titanic Kate Winslet declares that something that Jack said is "absurd." Now I haven't stopped saying it for like the past 10 years. Absurd, absurd, absurd...)
I should seriously stop admitting stuff like that.
Anyway, here's the deal with the earplugs, Round 2. I lived in a sorority house for 2 years. It was wonderful and communal and lovely and delicious and harmonious, and also very loud at night. Those metal slits in the doors let in every peep from the hallway, and let me tell you, the Chi Omega hallway was a happening place on random Tuesday nights around 3 am. Therefore, I started plugging my ears up every night as I went to bed, and I was rarely ever disturbed again.
But then something terrible happened... I became addicted to the earplugs. Now, the most delicate of noises will drive me absolutely bonkers when I am trying to fall asleep. An air conditioner that goes on and off? Misery. A squeaky ceiling fan? Forget about it. I am addicted to muted and smothered sounds for a good night's sleep. And if you know me, a good night's sleep is very important.
Therefore, I consistently throw these little babies in every overnight bag I have, every toiletry bag I own, and every purse I might ever take out of the house.
Because let me tell you, there's nothing worse than being stuck without your Pretty in Pinks.
Word to the wise: Just say no to earplugs. They'll get you good.
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