tangent thirty-one: Justin Bieber remembers childhood.

Confession.

I like Justin Bieber. I'm not really sure why, although if you know me I guess you're not all that surprised.  It probably stems from my utmost desire to stay a tween forever. I purchased his EP a while ago and had forgotten about it until today when I discovered it in my car's CD player. I've been rocking the radio lately so I didn't realize it was in there. Whatever. That's not the point of this tangent. While I enjoy the high-pitched, soprano voice of Sir Bieber, I am troubled by one song in particular. In the song Bigger Justin belts out the lyrics:

"...I was a playa when I was little

But now I'm bigga, I'm bigga
A heart-breaker when I was little 

But now I'm bigga, I'm bigga
And all the haters I swear they look so small from up here
Cuz we're bigga, and love's bigga,
I'm bigga and you're bigga..." 

I won't subject those of you with decent music taste to the rest of the song. You can google it or click to hear it on YouTube. I don't really want to embed it in my blog. I may like the kid, but I do have some standards. Anyway. I'm not sure what Justin Bieber sees when he looks in the mirror, but last time I checked he was still the size of my kneecap. According to the lyrics above, Justin was a playa and a heart-breaker (but not a heart-breaka) when he was little. But now, clearly, he's bigga. Also, he promises that all the haters look small from where he's standing because he and love and even I are all bigga. I'm offended by the bold-faced lie he's telling to all of the fragile young girls out there. And the fragile not-so-young 25-year-old who dedicated an entire blog post to the young man. If, in fact, he is telling the truth then what I took away from the song was this: Justin Bieber matured at the ripe age of 12, where he ceased his pimping ways and instead of having his mom drive her minivan to multiple girls' houses on a Friday night, she now only drives him to one. Due to the recent maturation, Justin's haters are all smaller than him (meaning that his haters must include Verne Troyer, a leprechaun, and ants). And, yes, Justin is in love. All because he has deluded himself into believing he is "bigga". Ignorance must indeed be bliss. Cheers to adulthood, Justin.

Peace. Love. I'm a Belieber. 

tangent fourteen: my Oscar nominees.

Evening.

I'm going to make this as short as possible so I can get back to watching Degrassi, my newest obsession and time-sucker. Seeing as that I only saw Slumdog Millionaire, I don't have too much to say about any of the other nominees. Slumdog was an amazing piece of cinematic awesomeness, so I'm glad it won 694 awards. Well-deserved, in my opinion. I did make a mental list of my favorite moments tonight, and I would like to share them with you. In addition to my favorites, I also made a separate mental list of my least favorite moments. If you don't mind, I'm going to share those with you, as well. If you do mind, then I hate you. No, no. I'm being facetious. Although I might hate you anyway, for other reasons. Probably not though because I don't really hate anyone. "Hate" is, like many teachers and wise sages over the years have told me, a very strong word. So while you might annoy me a lot, I can almost guarantee that I don't hate you. There's always an exception to the rule though. And I hate to admit it, but I use "hate" a lot more than I should. Like just now, for instance. I don't really hate to admit it. But to say, "I strongly dislike to admit it" sounds ridiculous. "Hate" may be strong, but it is, in fact, easier. Okay. Enough of that. Now, for the drum roll...brrrrrrrr. (That is not supposed to look like the sound of shivering.) Here are the nominees of my favorite and least favorite Oscar moments:

Moments That Made My Heart Flutter:

1. Danny Boyle jumping up and down like Tigger on purpose.
   
2. Zac Efron looking old enough for me to legally date instead of molest...finally.
   
3. Robert Pattinson acting like a vampire even though he wasn't supposed to.
   
4. Mickey Rourke's nomination.
   
5. Halle Berry's dress.
   
6. Kate Winslet's acceptance speech.
   
7. Heath Ledger's family's acceptance speech.
8. Memorial dedication video. (Gets me every single time.)
9. The big musical shindig. (With a cameo from Zac Efron.)
   
10. Ben Stiller's riveting portrayal of Joaquin Phoenix.
    

Moments That Made My Heart Sputter: 

1. Barbara's pre-Oscars buzz kill.
   
2. Zac Efron's trollop of a date.
   
3. Christopher Walken's creepiness multiplied due to his long hair.
   
4. Mickey Rourke's face.
   
5. Reese Witherspoon copying Queen Latifah's dress. Or vice versa. (Tsk, tsk, ladies.)
   
6. Jessica Biel sans her only redeeming quality, Timberlake.
   
7. Sophia Loren's aging progress.
   
8. Not being able to see the memorial dedication video. (I'm sorry, Academy. Not all of us have 900-inch flat-screens.)
   
9. Beyonce's sparkling red loin cloth.
   
10. Joaquin Phoenix's absence (from both the awards and the acting world).
    

I should mention that my short-term memory is somewhat of a faulty trait, and had I written my thoughts down while watching the Oscars, my wit would have been sharper and my writing much funnier. Oh well. I distracted you for a little while, right? Okay. Back to work, slacker. 

Peace. Love. Why was Miley invited?

tangent nine: break-up etiquette.

Yo.

I hope you remembered that today is Tuneage Tuesday. If not, refer to tangent four about what that means. I was on the phone with my friend, Lindsey, the other night and we got into a discussion about the Taylor Swift/Joe Jonas saga. I've already revealed that I'm a sucker for pop culture, but I also understand that many of you have graduated from this stage. Some of you may have never gotten into this stage in the first place. Props to you. I am a weak person and enjoy delving into the personal lives of celebrities. You might call it a character flaw. I prefer to call it a hobby. Anyway, for those of you who aren't up-to-date on the Swift vs. Jonas feud, allow me to recap what's been going on as of late. Taylor Swift, the young, cute chick who sings country music, and Joe Jonas, the young, hot guy who sings pop/rock music, dated and, like most young and famous couples do, broke up. Aesthetically speaking, they were a pretty cute couple; however, it seems as if Taylor needs some lessons from an older, wiser role-model on how to tactfully deal with a break-up. I've decided to be that person for her and so I've written her the following letter, in an attempt to help her salvage some dignity from the split with Joe and also to help her prevent from making the same mistakes in the future: 

Dear Taylor,

Hey girl. I hope all is well in Nashvegas. It's pretty cold here in Atlanta, but I'm okay with that. Cold weather in the ATL means that Christmas is right around the corner, and I love Christmas. This year I'm asking for grey Uggs, various gift certificates, new make-up, tortoise shell Ray-Ban Wayfarers, and new underwear (I lose underwear a lot...not sure how). What's on your list? Probably something having to do with music. That seems practical. Have you been good this year? I don't mean to put words in your mouth, but I'm not sure it would be honest of you to answer that question with a simple "yes". You see, I've been following your recent break-up with Joe, and I've witnessed how you've been acting. As females, we tend to have bad cases of the "overs": we over-exaggerate, we're overemotional, and we have trouble "getting over"...men, especially. You seem to be having a rare, amplified case of the overs right now, and I feel it's my duty to help you through this hard time but also to serve you up with a big giant dose of tough love. It's necessary that you learn the rules about breaking up. It wasn't very nice of Joe to dump you via 27-second cell phone convo. It wasn't nice at all. In the fifth grade, my boyfriend got his best friend to dump me over the phone. As I was bawling my eyes out, I called my friend to tell her all about it. Turns out she was having a sleep-over that night and failed to invite me. She did manage to put me on speaker phone, allowing the rest of the sleep-over guests to hear my entire sob story. I contemplated switching schools after that. My mom said no. Your phone break-up wasn't nearly as traumatic. It was, however, a chance for you to take the higher road, wish Joe well, and make him look like a jackass. You didn't though, did you? You went on Ellen and made yourself look like a lunatic. I felt sorry for you at first because I know what it's like to have my heart broken. My sympathy started fading when Ellen brought it to my attention that you stalk your ex-boyfriends. Who are you taking your cues from? Glenn Close circa 1987? I could have let it slide if you had done this for one guy; however, Ellen clearly states, "You've told me you drive by their houses a lot." The fact that you're driving by more than one house is a grave concern of mine. You've been making some very promising music over the past 2 years, but I'm bothered that your inspiration was formulated as a result of stalking. After that admission, you then go on to say that you cannot stalk Joe because he has enormous security guards. Maybe all of your ex-boyfriends should invest in some of those. Forget the Ellen appearance for now. Let's move onto the doll fiasco. Taylor, Taylor, Taylor. Never say anything that makes you look like a bigger idiot than your ex. Or rather, never film anything that makes you look like a bigger idiot than your ex. I'm sure you thought you were pretty clever by taking the Joe Jonas doll and forbidding the Taylor Swift doll from talking to him. You even note that the Joe doll has a cell phone, so he can break up with other dolls. That's not funny, and it makes you look bitter. I just wish you had dealt with this whole thing differently from the get-go. But alas, you did not, and now you look like a catty 18-year-old who's still stuck on the hot Jonas brother. What you also might not have realized is that declaring war on Joe will be tricky to maneuver. You and Joe croon to the same generic target market: teenage girls. In their eyes, Joe's talented and hot. You're just talented. So I hate to say it, but, in that respect, he wins. Actually, in terms of break-up etiquette, he wins, as well. To conclude, Taylor, I want express my utmost empathy for your current situation, and while I do understand how hard it is to get over someone you genuinely cared for, there are better ways to deal with it. I used to put up song lyrics as my AIM away messages to convey my pain. Dave Matthews always said it a lot better than I ever could. Maybe you should try that. And instead of physically stalking your exes, try dabbling in a little facebook perusal. It's not quite as creepy, and your exes can't file restraining orders on you for looking at their profiles. I hope this has helped your situation. Don't feel bad about the damage that has already taken place. We've all been there. Everybody plays the fool. Just don't play the fool twice. Write back soon.

Love always,

Melissa

P.S.-Perez just informed me of your new album's debut success. Congratulations. I'm mature enough to admit my mistakes, so I apologize for jumping the gun and siding with Joe about the whole target market prediction. I am sticking to my guns about everything else though. You may have one-upped your not-as-successful ex on the charts, but he still dealt with the split a lot more gracefully. So keep up the good work, continue writing killer songs, but mainly, know when to shut up. (Or perhaps find a publicist who knows when to shut you up.)

Okay, I'm spent. I'm going to bed.

Peace. Love. It's not you, it's me.

tangent five: the bald and the beautiful.

Ello, Guvnah.

Yeah, that opening was pretty uncool. Forgive me. It's still fun to say out loud though. I doubt you can disagree with that. Depending on the kind of person you are, you might have even attempted to vocalize it yourself just now but then realized that the people around you were staring, questioning your normalcy, at which point you covered it up with some ridiculous excuse. I have a lot of friends who would've done that. I probably would've done that, so don't feel ashamed if I just spoke directly to you. Enough witty banter. It's time to get serious and tangential. I was browsing around on tvguide.com yesterday, trying to decide what I wanted to use as background noise while I did homework, and I found myself drawn to The Steve Wilkos Show. Let me take a few steps back and review who Steve Wilkos is, for those of you who couldn't figure it out from the picture. Steve Wilkos is best known for being the former security guard on The Jerry Springer Show. He gained fame over the years for wearing black and breaking up various fights between transvestites, fat women being two-timed by a skinny redneck, incestual families, midgets, baby daddies, members of the KKK, and many other interesting characters who chose to display their colorful lives on TV sans shame. He was also easily recognizable because of his baldness. The female audience members of Jerry Springer ate this up and bought tickets just to be able to rub Steve's shiny head. Yesterday his show's topic was "I'm 14 and want a baby", and I now feel stupider for having put myself through 60 minutes of what can best be described as "Captain Obvious telling people what they already know" or actually, "what they should already know". There are a lot of idiots out there. The show revolved around a 14-year-old girl (whose name I never caught), her mother (whose name I never caught either), the integral, life-changing "Ghost of Christmas Future" character who has already "been there", and the child's father, Roy (the only name I caught and chose to remember...I think maybe because it reminded me of The Office). If you're an intelligent human being, I'm sure you've already pieced together how the show played out. Actually, you don't really even need to be that intelligent to be able to do this...or human. I'm quite sure an ape could figure it out. None of that is relevant to today's tangent, but I thought I should warn those of you who were thinking about maybe watching it sometime. Don't. I have to admit I wasn't paying attention during the first 10 minutes of the show because Steve's bald head distracted me, and I started thinking about this professor that Adrea and I had our junior year of college. I won't mention his name, just in case he decides to google himself (because, let's be honest, people do it all the time); however, he taught a law class that only met one night a week for what felt like 8 hours (in reality, the class was only about 3 hours). Like Steve Wilkos, our teacher was completely bald, yet attractive in a weird, "you're intelligent and have a Southern accent and could sue me for all I'm worth" kind of way. Back me up, Adrea. Around the second week Adrea and I started making inappropriate jokes about what we'd like to do to his bald head (ie: rub hot oil on it while discussing copyrighting laws). When we got mad at him, the hot oil became tar and was sometimes followed by feathers. Towards the end of the semester he got way more tar than oil...it was a hard class. Irrelevant alert: we also had a guy in our class who looked like Emilio Estevez circa The Breakfast Club. He never got oil, only snickers and snide remarks about his outdated look and cut-off sweats. Adrea and I are really nice people. Dwelling on the hairless heads of these two unrelated men, Steve and my teach, led me to today's tangent. There aren't many men (or women...I'm an equal opportunist) who can go completely bald. I want to extend my utmost commendation to those of you out there who fit into this description, and while I don't have all the time in the world to praise everyone who is currently rocking (or has, at one time, rocked) this look, I would like to recognize  some of my favorites:

Billy Zane: 

I almost wish he had chosen to sport this look while portraying his villainous role as Cal Hockley in Titanic because if he had, I'm fairly certain Rose would have taken one glance at him and dumped Jack into the water early on, skipping all of that "I'll never let go" nonsense. I'm also a big fan of his constant 5 o'clock shadow. What a man. 

George Foreman: 

This man has successfully executed the 3 B's: boxing, burgers, and baldness. Not to mention the fact that he had the audacity to name all five of his sons "George". Ya know what? I think that's reason enough to add a 4th "B" to the list: balls.

Robin Tunney:

AKA Debra from Empire Records. While I always mimicked my behavior and style after Corey Mason (Liv Tyler's character), I am able to fully appreciate the "rebel" in any movie, especially the really edgy ones found in cult classics such as this film.  In my opinion, shaving your head in a record store bathroom during work hours adds cool points to your resume. Plus, after this movie Tunney went on to make The Craft and taught my friends and me how to play "Light as a feather, stiff as a board". But that's another tangent for another day. 

Howie Mandel: 

2 words: soul patch.

Vin Diesel: 

Not only do his pectoral muscles make me feel like a natural woman, but Vin is coming close to surpassing Chuck Norris in the "Terrible Jokes About My Strength and Abilities" category. He might have already surpassed Chuck because I'm not sure Chuck could rock the baldness and still feel like a man. Bravo, Vin. 

Britney Spears:

Oh, Brit. So much to say, so little time to say it. I enjoyed this look of Britney's. Watching her deteriorate right in front of America's eyes became a favorite pastime during 2006 and 2007. This particular protest only signified that rock bottom was near and that Britney really didn't have anywhere else to go but up...or to rehab...again. But all kidding aside, I'm glad you're doing better, Brit. Say hi to your niece for me.

Michael Williams:

No, this isn't Mickey Knox. This is Michael Williams and he, like some of the contenders on this list, rocks a nearly naked noggin on a daily basis. However, unlike the rest of the people on this list, he's a normal person, as in not a celebrity, as in pretty cool in my book.

And while these people and unmentioned others are able to pull off the "bald do" flawlessly, I have a specific request for certain people who just shouldn't...unless they have to: Zac Efron, George Clooney, Oprah, Jamie Lynn Spears (your sister covered this already, don't be a copycat), Michael Cera, Jennifer Aniston, Bret Michaels, and Mo'Nique. (Confused about her? That's why hyperlinks are helpful.) Although she would look funny without hair, I really just want you to visit her website. Another thing...because I lacked a tangent yesterday, I didn't get to wish my friend, Jeff, a happy 24th birthday. Yes, that's the same Jeff who made me the sweet mixed tape mentioned in tangent two. So happy belated birthday, old friend. I hope you dance. Okay, I'm off to create things. Later.

Peace. Love. RIP Rogaine.