music

The Five Ws of Beyonce’s Favorite Fashion Accessory

Because… what the hell is that thing?

Listen, I am the first person to raise her hand and let the world know I haven’t the slightest clue what is or isn’ trendy.  I can barely find pants that fit or a shirt that doesn’t make my boobs look lopsided.

With that being said, sometimes there are certain things that celebrities wear that make me stand up on my couch shouting to the high heavens, “What on God’s green earth is she/he/it/everyone wearing?”  And by sometimes, I mean pretty much every time Lady Gaga walks outside.

Growing up, my teacher’s always told me to do the Five W’s if I didn’t understand things in order to get a complete mental comprehension of a story, event, or subject.  And aside from the fact that I turned into a semi-upstanding citizen  without really knowing where wind comes from, I think the five W’s have helped me understand a lot of life’s shortcomings.

I haven’t done it in a while, but when I watched Jay-Z and Beyonce’s HBO special, On The Run, and I was slapped in the face with seventy questions ranging from Jay-Z actually being a semi-relevant songmaker to the perplexing amount of “What is that?” remarks regarding Beyonce’s wardrobe choices, I knew I had to break out the big guns.

Case and point, this thing:

Exhibit A.

Exhibit A.

So grab a pencil, because school is back in session folks and I’m breaking out the Five W’s for Beyonce’s favorite fashion accessory, the fishnet face mask.

WHO:

Who, other than Beyonce, wears this? Definitely not burglars, unless they are really not worried about the whole incognito effect.  This just doesn’t seem plausible for a high profile robbery when you have your face pretty much showing.  I could, however, see it being popular for lunch ladies, as hairnets are all the rage on the serving circuit, but this thing doesn’t even cover all your hair, and what happens when you have to sneeze?  SOMEONE ANSWER ME.

WHAT:

What… is… it? What does it do?  What is it for?  There are so many questions and I can’t wrap my head around it.  Do you wear it for a couple hours a day to get a nice fishnet face imprint?  Is that fun?  Does it make people look sexy?  I don’t know what I’m doing wrong in the sex appeal department, but if I have to start wearing a fishnet burglar-style mask to attract men, I don’t know if I’m really ready for that type of commitment.

WHERE:

Where do I wear this?  On the street, maybe on the way to work?  Will it work if I am on the slopes skiing? I don’t think so.  Maybe I would put it on after getting ready for a night out on the town with all my girl friends.  We’re all dolled up, hair done, nails done, everything did, and then the last part of our outfits are all these fishnet face masks.  I really don’t see  a gaggle of mid-twenties females all looking like guppies being a man repellant in any way.

WHEN:

When did this become cool?  I get the fishnet stockings, maybe even the occasional shirt, if you’re feeling frisky.  But I like having my face exposed.  Call me revolutionary, but the thought of wearing fabric over my face without the intention of going skiing or holding someone hostage within the hour seems a little ridiculous to me.

WHY:

Why? Just why?  That is all I have to ask.

Someone please bring me up to speed on this, or anything fashion related.  Otherwise, I’ll be sitting here with pants that are too big and my right boob looking slightly larger than the left because of this damn unflattering pattern.  I need help.

What do you think of Beyonce’s fishnet face mask?

Honestly, The “Now, That’s What I Call Disney” Compilation Is A Complete Travesty.

This compiler is a dunce.

This compiler is a dunce.

I can’t go into the weekend with this on my mind.  So, here we go.

I asked my mom the other day, “On a scale of 1-10, how dramatic am I?”

In unwritten dramatic scales, 10 presumably consists of daily temper tantrums in the street because you can’t get two toppings on your ice cream cone, and 1 consists of ignoring all problems in your day to day life because you’re just “so over the drama.”

My mother rated me at an 8.

Yes, an 8 on the drama scale. My mother just sentenced me to a semi-regular mental and physical breakdown in a public place over frozen treats.

Keeping that in mind, but at the same time, ignoring it completely and thinking of me in a more positive, attractive, calm and collected light, I want to tell you a story.

Recently, there was an attack on my childhood.

It started with an infomercial. An innocent advertisement for a compilation of songs that serenaded me through adolescence, Now That’s What I Call Disney!

At the start of it all, it seemed like a mix I could get behind. A little piece of plastic disc nostalgia that I could really see myself enjoying… Until I saw the track list.

Frankly, it was just atrocious. Flat out wrong, immoral, and a complete mockery of the cartoons that taught me the wind had colors, carpets can fly, and legs were required for dancing.

I don’t know who did it.  I don’t know what committee is involved with the song selection.  I’m assuming can only be a panel made up of this woman and her friends, to represent Disney in the first volume of hits.

But, God as my witness, it needs to be corrected.

At first glance you may think to yourself, hey Meg, your mom is totally right, you are dramatic, I actually think I saw you crying about missing toppings on your ice cream cone back in August.

And while I was having a tantrum, it was actually because my friend wouldn’t buy me a wine at 3pm on a Wednesday.

My thoughts on this CD are still valid.  If you’re going to have a Now That’s What I Call Disney, you’ll need a few Bare Necessities, if you will (umm…. yes, pun totally intended). Here are my expert feelings on most of the selections:

…THE GOOD

Can You Feel The Love Tonight: I’ll be honest, this is the first love scene I ever saw in a feature film. So, that alone needs to be a reason for it to be PRAISED. Lion love is like, so real.

Part Of Your World: Never in my life have I found someone who had as many thingamabobs as me.  I also have never met anyone who didn’t know what a fire was and why it burned.  Still don’t. So… anyone?

Hakuna Matata: Zen Nation. I didn’t know what chill was until I heard this song.  Plus, teenage Simba was kinda hot, no? Just me? K.

Under the Sea: How did I know things existed under water? This song.  Figured the sea was just a big bathtub that covered the Earth’s floor before I found out there were talking crabs and singing corals down there. Just a big percussion party at the clam bake on the ocean floor.

Circle Of Life: NAHAHHHHHSSIIVVEEENNNYYAAA- NAMA-MEE-SCALABOOOOOW. Don’t know if that’s what it says, but I’m gonna sing it like that so loud, and so proud. Every time. Such a good song.

Colors of the Wind: I have asked four grinning bobcats, none have answered. I have no idea why the hell they keep smiling and someone needs to answer me. NOW.

I Just Can’t Wait To Be King: This song taught me how to rule a household.  One time my mom told me to go clean my room before my grandparents came to visit. I was all like, “Kings don’t need advice from little horn bills for a start.” —  I don’t want to talk about what happened after that. (#Grounded)

Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious: Ummdiddaliddiaummdillaaaiiiiiiii. I don’t think there are actual words to this song, so it gets credit by default for being a jumble of syllables with a boss melody.

…THE BAD

When You Wish Upon a Shooting Star: Could this be a more boring opener?  Do I want to fall asleep immediately after one song? No. I want to continue my journey down memory lane and go back to the time that I actually thought body parts would grow if I lied (aside: this would be so cool if you could pick the body parts that grew after lying, like my hair, I’d be Millenium Rapunzel with all my fib growth).

Someday My Prince Will Come: The only acceptable song from Snow White that should be included on this cd is Heigh Ho, and you didn’t do that.

Bella Notte: More like better not. Snore city.  Population: everyone listening.

A Dream Is A Wish Your Heart Makes: To be honest, I didn’t even know there were songs in Cinderella, this is just dumb.

Once Upon A Dream, Go The Distance, Friend Like Me, I Won’t Say: Same thing, don’t even remember these songs. Like a bad football player, cut ’em.

Everybody Wants to Be A Cat: Newsflash: No one likes cats. Dogs are so in right now. Puppies are the new currency, and cats are straight up debt. No one wants debt; no one wants cats.

I See The Light, You’ve Got A Friend In Me, Life is A Highway: New aged Pixar Disney movies shouldn’t even be considered for volume 1 (Post ’95). It’s just a sin. Get out of my face Tangled, Cars, and Toy Story. See you next year, suckaaaaas.

Hawaiian Roller Coaster Ride: Does it sound like a good time? Yes. Do I even know what it means? No. I’ve never seen Lilo and Stitch because I like movies about real animals with real plots. I see you Lion King. Respect.

Reflection (NOT CHRISTINA AGUILERA): I don’t know why I would have to explain this, but not having Christina’s version of this song is nothing shy of eating a sandwich without condiments. Just deplorable.

… THE UGLY

Seeing as I just exiled ten songs from DisneyTown, there are some additions that need to be spoken for in order to make this whole ordeal right:

I’ll Make A Man Out of You: The fact that this song isn’t number 1 on the whole thing is blasphemous. This is the best song in Disney history. Coursing rivers, great typhoons, raging fires, moons with mysterious dark sides. Color me intrigued. Repeat. All day. Every day. Except when I get sick of it. I take one day off. Then start again.

Be Our Guest: Talking candles? Pots and pans that have feelings? An ottoman that’s a dog? GIVE ME THIS HOUSE. I don’t need friends, I have decorations that will hang out with me. Life crisis averted.

Heigh-Ho: Give a kid a pick-axe and ask him to sing a song. What’s it gonna be?  This one. Unforgivable overlook.

Reflection (Christina Aguilera Version): Phenomenal acting by Mulan in this music video.  Very attentive, inquisitive stares into various mirrors of sizes and lengths.  Breathtaking.

…

The only way to make this right is to take my suggestions and reprint all the copies of the cd out there right now. I’m speaking for a generation of 85’s to 90’s babies. But really, I’m speaking for myself. Fix it. Fix it now. Make it right. Or make a man out of me. Either one would be greatly appreciated.

Although, under no circumstances, will I be doing this:

determined01_9461

GOOD DAY.

Had A Crappy Week? Here’s How to Feel Better.

#mylife

#mylife

Everyone has those days that result in a volcanic eruption because you’ve spent the better half of the week or month suppressing your emotions.  It all just happens to unravel at that very inopportune moment when you go to grab that KitKat you’ve wanted all day, but your hand comes back with nothing because no one wanted to throw the empty bag in the trash.

It may look like you’re just really upset that you can’t have your post-lunch treat you’ve dreamed about all morning, but in reality, it was just the last in a long line of emotional floodgates that had to open sometime or another.

If you’re like me, you don’t display your emotions.  I pride myself on being able to mask a lot of what I’m feeling through the work day, and once I cross the threshold of my basement apartment, I go full blown dramatic actress in a death scene on Broadway.

Tears are streaming from places I didn’t know tears could stream, I’m thinking that curling up in the fetal position on the entryway floor is both comfortable and reasonable even though my bed is three feet away.

I’m a hot goddamn mess.

Other people can wear their emotions on their sleeve, with integrity.  I can immediately tell when someone is an emotionally balanced human because he or she is able to accept mood swings as a natural part of living and know that people aren’t happy 100% of the time.

I guess I grew up differently.

My mother would argue that I am dramatic.  But realistically, I have outbursts full of emotion because most of the time I suppress what I’m actually feeling.  I don’t ever speak out about things until they have built up, boiled over, and reared their ugly head inside my mind to the point where I need to bitch, complain, yell, or freak out about it until someone listens and validates my emotional state.

I realize this is unhealthy, but when it’s been a certain way for twenty years, it’s hard to consciously make changes.  I’m working on it.  Maybe.

I have triggers for when I know I’m getting close to an emotional explosion.  It allows me to assess what I’m feeling and then take the appropriate measures to immediately store it in my feeling chest until I can’t possibly squish another one in there.

And then I accept the emotional overload.

For starters, I always assume it’s because I’m due for a cry.  I take out my personal calendar, go back page by page, and try and remember the last time I shed a tear.  If it’s a sizeable amount of time, I take it as my cue to stay in on a Friday, pop in Marley and Me or A Walk to Remember, ball my eyeballs out, and be good to go for Saturday night.

Never underestimate the power of using a q-tip.  If you’re feeling crappy, take a shower, get a q-tip for each ear and go to town.  Cleaning the wax build up out of your ears after a hot shower will not only make you feel better, it will make you realize you’ve been listening to your television on a concert-level decibel which will also make your roommates happy they don’t have to listen to the George Lopez show with you until 2am anymore.

If your car has any gas in its tank, take it for a good ole mindless drive.  Make sure you have a playlist on deck that transports you back to the happiest time of your life, which for me was the Medieval Times field trip in 7th grade when we played truth or dare in the back of the bus and I got to kiss my crush in the coach bus bathroom (BIG DREAMS, WHATUP?!).

Though unpopular, exercising is an awesome way to reduce stress and deal with problems.  You never realize how much crap is weighing on your mind until you set out for a three mile jog and you end up running for six miles and then finish your workout at a boxing class.  Just kidding, only crazy people do that (What? Who am I?).  But seriously, go for a run, a walk, or a hike and just think.  It’s amazing what some exercise and fresh air will do for your mind.

On the complete opposite side of the health and fitness spectrum, I have found that dabbling in gluttony soothes the soul like a stick of butter on a pancake.  When having a bad day, there are few things more relaxing than sitting in your bed, sweatpants up to your boobs (allowing room for expansion, of course) holding a tub of Ben and Jerrys in your right hand and a bottle of Cabernet in your left.  Wine and dairy don’t seem to go together, but after the fourth glass, you can’t really tell what anything tastes like anyways, so eat up, boozebag.

We all have weeks where we want to tear our hair out and poke other people in the eyeballs so they can feel our pain.  My advice to you is to not do that, because a hefty lawsuit and being fired from your job are far worse than admitting you enjoy crying when you watch Bambi or you thought about punching Kristen Stewart during your boxing class.

Trust me, these things work.

The Grammys: What They Were Really Thinking.

BRB, just going to add ‘Amature Mind Reader’ to my resume real quick.

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You’re welcome.

Yes, yes I will marry you.

Yes, yes I will marry you.

26 Things the Grammys taught me.

THANKS!!!

THANKS!!!

The 2014 Grammys and malbec go together like wine and everything else every day of my life.  Kendrick Lamar was robbed in broad nightlight.  Revenge will be sought.  So yeah, in a nutshell, this is what I learned:

Pharrell Williams gave everyone a preview of his halloween costume.

Guess I can’t be Indiana Jones this year. Damnit.

Kendrick Lamar is perfect.

I would have locked him down as my prom date and future boyfriend so fast in high school.  We could have awkwardly slow danced to Vitamin-C’s “Graduation” whilst daydreaming about our future. Hey Kendrick, call me… not maybe.  Call me for real.

Yes, yes I will marry you.

Yes, yes I will marry you.

Rita Ora is my bff in my head.

Move over, Jennifer Lawrence, you are no longer my #1.  Rita Ora just turned the imaginary bff game upside down.  Multi-color packman nails? SIGN. ME. UP. Besties fo’ lyfe.  Rita, have your people call my people (my mom) and let’s set up a time to hang out.  Maybe we can go to an amusement park or I can be your +1 to an exclusive hollywood party in which I meet Drake and we get married…  You can pick.

Kevin Hart is so small.

I didn’t just learn this tonight.  But I did learn he is an entire torso shorter than everyone else in the world.

too short to ride this ride.

too short to ride this ride.

The term “baby bump” is uncomfortable.

Just stop it. Stop.  Traffic terminology is not acceptable when referencing pregnancy.

Lorde needs to be diagnosed with arthritis.

There is no other explanation for the clenching of the fingers.  I’m not even a doctor and I know claw hands are not a desirable trait to have.  She’s either secretly practicing witchcraft or preparing for Halloween as an elderly woman.

Broomsticks double as stripper poles.

I knew witches and wizards had a little something extra with wands and pointy hats, but now you’re telling me their brooms are also stripper poles?  Some people have all the luck.  I see you winding and grinding up on that pole, Hermoine.

Headgear is on the cusp of becoming a fashion staple.

LL Cool J has worn the same newsboy hat since ’93. Daft Punk with star wars helmets.  Pharrell embodying Indiana Jones.  Zac Brown beanie swag.

John Legend looks like a cartoon.

Has anyone ever walked the earth as a living, breathing animation better than John Legend?  A straight up cross between Cleveland from Family Guy and Gerald from Hey Arnold.

just an afro away.

just an afro away.

Taylor Swift is the most loveable and hateable person on the planet. 

Her dancing. Her hair flipping. I love her songs. I can’t stand her being so shocked all the time.  She knows she’s good – own it. Stop being all surprised people relate to you.

There are only six awards during the entire show.

This shouldn’t be considered an award show.  It’s more of a two-hour time block in which you get a glimpse into every single possible facet of music using only the most famous and/or popular people in each genre.  It’s like going to a music festival and only caring about three out of the ninety bands playing.  Waste of time.

The circus revival is not going to happen until Barnum and Bailey both give Pink a personal phone call.

I mean seriously.  How many times is this girl supposed to dangle from a sheet without a harness before they deem her worthy?  She clearly wants in on the Ringling Bros. GIVE THE GIRL A CHANCE.

Give this girl a job already.

Give this girl a job already.

Visa Mastercard is doing Priceless Surprises and I need to have it happen to me.

Where do I sign up and how much money do I need to spend to have Aaron Paul and Kendrick Lamar show up at my doorstep and hang out with me?

Kendrick Lamar won the Grammys and punched the world right in the eyeball. 

Don’t care how long Taylor Swift sultry stared into the camera demanding recognition for her relational hardships, or how mysterious Katy Perry’s mystical forest was, Kendrick just performed in an all white track suit and didn’t suck.  Done.

Kacey Musgraves is better than TSwift and everyone needs to know it.

When you stop complaining about relationships when you’re pretty, rich, and famous, and be less annoying all around, you have Kacey Musgraves.  Get it girl.

The Osbournes need to make their comeback and reclaim their throne as reality tv royalty.

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Yo MTV, bring back The Osbournes.

Go away, Kardashians, the patriarch of the metal head family dynasty needs to return to MTV.  Ozzy’s presentation delivery was phenomenal.  And we need more of this in our lives.

Everyone now knows what a nursing home talent show would look like. 

Willie Nelson and company showing us , literally how old they are.  If your grandma asks you to come see her performance in the talent show at Sweet Acres Retirement Center, just respond with a, “Thanks, but I think I’ve had my fill of adult entertainment for a while.”

The Storm Troopers made an appearance.

Oh, wait.  That was just Daft Punk being Daft Punk.

Kristen Stewart has passed the awkward torch.

Lorde just stole that flame; just absolutely the most awkward person on the planet channeling Elvira at the Grammys. And…. posture. Learn it, live it, love it.

safety first. silence second.

safety first. silence second.

Daft Punk needs to give a speech at my wedding.

I don’t care who I need to pay, or what soul I need to sell, it will happen, and it will be silent as hell.

Lindsey Buckingham made an appearance.

And Keenan Thompson wasn’t a part of it.  I was praying on all deities for a What Up Wit Dat re-enactment.  SNL for the win

Lindsey Buckingham Saturday Night Live May 14 b

the best.

Bolo ties are real, and they’re here to stay.

Macklemore, Bruno Mars, the NFL.  Who’s next?

Madonna never left her music video.

In case you were wondering, the reigning Queen of Pop still thinks she’s in her music video for, “Don’t Tell Me,” cowboy hat included.

Kent Knappenberger needs to open up a restaraunt. 

Mail it in on the teaching music.  If I don’t have a Knappenburger with extra BBQ sauce and a side of onion rings by Friday, I’m quitting my job, renouncing my United States citizenship, and becoming a nomad (just kidding… unless it really happens).  Also, if he didn’t win beard of the year award, it went to ZZ Top, and that’s fair, but I think they should do a recount.

pass the torch already

pass the torch already

White suits are the only way to establish dominance.

Backstreet Boys did it in the 90s, and 2014 is bringing it back. Kendrick Lamar, Imagine Dragons, and Daft Punk all asserting their power over the music industry with full on white on white suits.  Just a sweatband and an Adidas high top sneaker away from an NBA practice squad.

Daft Punk got lucky.

In no way, shape, or form should they have beat out Kendrick Lamar.  But the biggest cop out is the fact that they received this honor and can’t even speak for themselves.  I can’t tell if I hate them or respect them for staying in character.

… and now it’s time for bed. Malbec and Meg out.

…

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