Sparkle, Neely, Sparkle!

I'm sure there are intelligent things I could be doing-like studying, and if I'm going to instead waste time on this blog I could be writing about something intelligent, but I just feel like doing something fun (okay, I ended up analyzing everything below, albeit not very well). I was going to write about Girl Scout Camp back in the day and how much I miss it, but (a) that has potential to be sappy sappy, and (b) Carrie Brownstein (of Sleater-Kinney) just beat me to it in writing a blog post about her favorite summer camp songs and I could take it as coincidence, or as a sign that I should or should not write my post, but for the time being I'm going to not be a copy cat. Not that Carrie and I have overlapping readership or anything...I'm sure that post will come soon enough.

Anyways, hmm...pure, unadulterated fun...I know! I present to you...

Sienna's Guiltiest Pleasures

Actually, I'm sure I'll forget some of the guilty ones. And I already established that I'm bad at Top 5/Top 10 Lists (Yeah, I'm still not a together person...but I guess Rob Fleming wasn't, either...) I'm not even sure I'm going to feel like writing explanations for each one...I guess it's not really necessary. I mean, if you like something, you like something. Actually, I'm not sure how guilty/embarrassed I feel about any of these. I kind of want to re-name this "Things Sienna Likes That Other People Judge Her For, Yet She Goes On Liking Them", but that doesn't flow nicely.

I mean, sure, when other people are discussing great American literature that they're fond of and then I really want to chime in with how I *love* Valley of the Dolls I usually hold back...there are some things that truly are in bad taste for me to like. But for a lot of these I don't know why they're considered bad/tacky/low-class/whatver. As long as something's not outright offensive, what's wrong with liking it? I think the fact that we consider some things to be in bad taste when there's no real reason for it is pretty pretentious. There are plenty of things that I like for irony's sake, but lately I've been feeling bad about that. The whole irony thing is often a bunch of privileged and/or "in-crowd" people deciding to deride something that someone else either genuinely likes or, in other cases, has to purchase/wear out of necessity. I should probably cut that out.

(I still want a Three Wolf Moon shirt)

So I guess I'll start with the aforementioned Valley of the Dolls by Jacqueline Susann...I think I've read this book, with its adorable pink cover with the pill cut-outs, like 5 times. Long story short: A young woman leaves her New England hometown to go to New York City and make a name for herself, gets caught up in showbiz and becomes a drug addict. I knew I was going to love it when I read the godawful poem (Poem? I think that's what Susann was going for) in the front of the book...I like it because it sounds an awful lot like any poetry I've ever tried to write. Then..."...New York was steaming-an angry concrete animal caught unawares in an unreasonable hot spell"...and you're off! This is the book that started my trashy novel phase in high school, from Jackie Collins to such gems as Wanton Slave (which floated around my school's hallways, for some reason) and I Shocked the Sheriff. The story just sucks you in...and you read, and you read, and you read, and in the end you don't feel like you've gained anything at all, except a chance to escape and to realize that your life isn't that bad. There was also a movie made of it, which is now a camp classic (Susann allegedly walked out of the screening in disgust), but the book's the best. Reading is always more intelligent than watching a movie, right? (Go here if you want to read some of it...or just ask to borrow my copy..I'm glad to spread the love)

Next, a few musical guilty pleasures for you...I think I posted some of these on Facebook a while back so bear with me if you're a true cyber-stalker who's seen these already.

Vixen: Edge of  a Broken Heart

I really don't know why I like some 80s Hair Metal. I guess  I'm just a sucker for a good guitar riff. And female rock musicians are my favorite thing ever, hence the Vixen love, ... I mean, yeah, they're all wearing tight clothing (though I guess male Hair metal musicians dressed exactly the same...equal opportunity works in weird ways) and whining about heartbreak in most of their songs, but if you get past that they're just as talented as any 80s metal band (not saying much?) And the big hair and flashy clothes are just too awesome to pass up.

Vixen - Cryin @ Yahoo! Video

Dixie Chicks: Goodbye Earl

This was my favorite song in the 4th or 5th grade. I remember my best friend and I had learned the lyrics to like every song on MTV or VH1 (they played music? whoa) and would sing them at our school's after school program, and this was one of them. I don't know how I feel about the fact that little 10 year old me was running around singing about battling domestic violence with domestic violence. Actually, I know exactly how I feel about that, so if anything, that's why this song is a guilty pleasure. (No guilt about liking the Dixie Chicks...In fact, after sitting through Robert Altman's Nashville I sort of have a soft spot for country music...Okay, maybe not a soft spot as much as an infatuation with an element of Americana to which I've never felt much of an affinity)



Wilson Phillips: The Dream is Still Alive

I love, love, loooooove Wilson Phillips. I grew up listening to Carnie and Wendy Wilson's Christmas album every December, which I'm sure has a lot to with it (I'm planning a really aweosme post for July 25, FWIW...My Christmas Songs post was going to be for December but I don't think I can wait that long). And music from the 90s makes me very happy, as a reminder of my childhood-they were like the cool big kids that I wanted to be when I grew up (Yeah, I still want to dress like them). Plus, if you're the child of hippies you're like automatically aweosme until proven otherwise in my book (I chose this song becasue it reflects that...whee, being nostalgic for/trying to live the life of your parent's generation!). And depsite the fact that, "Hold On" aside, they're mainly known for Carnie's size (I mean, really?) (Also, I can't believe how far behind I am on her reality show...unheard of!) and for having batshit families (Carnie and Wendy Wilson are the daughters of a Beach Boy, and Chynna Phillips the daughter of a Mama & a Papa and there was weird stuff with her dad and her half sister and blah blah), they're actually quite talented...I wish I had people I could harmonize like that with!



Grateful Dead: Casey Jones
Indigo Girls: Uncle John's Band
Okay, so I actually really like the Indigo Girls, and I really like the Grateful Dead. And I really really like the Indigo Girls covering the Grateful Dead. But I don't like fitting stereotypes, and I feel like the fact that I really like the aforementioned groups show how I fit various labels to a tee, and that makes me uncomfortable. So sometimes I pretend to like things ironically so I'm not some type of sterotype, but self-derision isn't any better than deriding someone else's taste (and if I ever get that Jeep Wrangler I was eying this morning...I wouldn't know how to pass such a big purchase off as ironic; I'd just have to go with it. Same with a hippie van or some little eco-friendly car...which I guess Jeeps aren't.). Really, going out of your way to reject stereotypes is as bad a going out of your way to propogate them or push them on others; you're still affirming the existence of the stereotype.



The best part of the Indigo Girls covering "Uncle John's Band" is the "Sister, well i declare..." line and "Ain't no time to hate, sister, barely time to wait" thing they added. I was like "They would..."

The best part of "Casey Jones" is...the whole thing! After "Touch of Grey", I think this was the first Dead song I heard and after bursting out in laughter on, the "high on cocaine" line I had another "They Would" moment...So why can't I have "I would" moments in my own life?




Speaking of stereotypes, let's move on to movies. Something I am actually reluctant to say that I like, something I've never liked ironically; I've tried to dislike it but I seriously can't look away, it's like a car crash (which I think ties into the movie somehow): Basic Instinct. I mean, gay rights groups picketed the movie with signs spoling the ending : [highlight for spoiler] She's the killer [highlight for spoiler] because of its portrayal of queer women as hypersexual psychos/killers/psycho-killers. And that hasn't really changed in time (Ohai, Jenny Schecter, and...whoever the fuck actually killed her). Judging by the length of the "Psycho Lesbian" and "Depraved Bisexual" pages on TV Tropes (I advise waiting until after exams are over before you explore TV Tropes...it can take up your entire day/week/life), it's quite a problem. Yet I don't think therein lies my specific problem with this movie; I think my problem with it is just with the over-the-top sex and violence (often conflated) in general. Let's compare it with Mulholland Drive, one of my favorite movies and far, far, from a guilty pleasure: because I feel no guilt about liking it, and instead of bringing me pleasure it actually makes me really sad. But anyways...Mulholland Drive has lots of sex and violence, and I've seen it like 10 times and still don't really understand the plot, but from what I gather [highlight for spoiler] The female protagonist's girlfriend leaves her for a man. so the protagonist goes crazy, hires a hitman to kill the GF and then kills herself [highlight for spoiler] (I'm sure that spoiler's tempting you sorely...and even if you're planning on watching the film but have yet to see it I might acutally advise reading a few spoilers first or you'll have no clue what's going on). On paper its plot doesn't the sound much better than Basic Instinct's. But the sex and violence is much more tasteful (there's the concept of "taste" again...anyone want to delve deeper into that for me?) in Mulholland Drive, and the film's widely known as a masterpiece; the narrative and cinematography are works of art; David Lynch doesn't make exploitation films (can't really quantify what he makes, though). I think the reason I feel guilty about liking Basic Instinct is that it doesn't have artistic mertit to fall back on so it relies solely on gratuitous sex and hacking away at people with ice picks. Plus, usually I think it's a good thing when characters in movies and such just happen to be LGBT without it having to do with the overarching themes of the work, but in this case there's no real reason for Catherine Tramell to be bisexual other than to tantalize and in the context of a movie about a murderer it's kind of an awful idea. The relationship between the women in Mulholland Drive contributes to the plot and even though Diane's actions are questionable, I always want to give her a hug. But, yeah, my issue with Basic Instinct is still mainly that it's a bad movie (but it's so enthralling, still!) (and apparently better than the sequel)





(I bet this is gonna be the day that my entire family reads my blog...just as I'm leaving to go home for the summer...SWEET timing)

I really didn't want to deconstruct all my favorite things, but I'm doing just that...Hm...what's something I like, and my guilt about it comes from an obvious place...*clap*clap* Xanadu!

Starring Gene Kelly and Olivia Newton-John (and some guy who couldn't sing yet got cast in a musical and probably never made another movie). It's about this guy who paints replicas of album covers and hates his job...and then this muse visits him and he is inspired to open up a roller disco that combines elements from the dying days of disco with elements from the 1940s. And they sing about it. And there's this random Disney-esque animated sequence in the middle that makes no sense. And the special effects make me thing of We Have Lasers. I'm not making any of this up. Actually, the music is pretty awesome-Gene Kelly and ONJ are musical staples and there's tons of Electric Light Orchestra. That's the only real redeeming quality to this movie, yet I don't think that's why I really like it; I think it's just so rediculous that it's amazing.

Here's the trailer, which makes it seem like an updated Footlight Parade or some grand musical spectacle of that sort:






Expect a pt. 2 to this sometime, but for now I need to actually get stuff done today. Oh, reading week...where have you gone? What have I accomplished? LeSigh.

If anyone feels like commenting, leave some of your guilty pleasures! Analysis optional.

Remember me to the one who lives there...

Random thoughts before I doze off:
  

• I hope my bulletpoints aren't pink when I publish this...in the textbox they've chosen to take the shade of fuschia I set as my default text color and I can't change them back. I kind of want to just change the default back to black or something. I already have a pink computer to make me feel sillily girly. Since the drag show I went to on Saturday night, where I dressed up as a(n emo) guy and had the look down but couldn't get the mannerisms for the like of me, I've been really conscious of how gender-typed  I am (maybe the color pink shouldn't be considered girly, though...it's a color. I find it pretty. Why are colors gendered?). I don't think being one of those people who constantly deconstructs the gender of everything would be very becoming on me (and constantly intellectualizing everything is an awful way to live), but sometimes I want to do exactly that.Even if I've been known to snark on people that look at things that way. I mean, I'd love to just "be" and not have to worry about social constructs and blah blah, but once you're conscious of that sort of thing it's hard. Reason why ignorance might be bliss #34628
• Is it possible for things to happen at the wrong time? Like, does "too little too late" (or, conversely [and I'm finding equally as problematic] "too much too soon") hold any real weight? I've started wondering if there's actually something to the notion of destiny, but I tend to apply it only when a positive force enters my life, but then I turn around and respond to bad things with "whatthefuckpeopleareintrinsciallystupidandmakebadchoicesontheirowngrumblegrumble". If I'm going to start believing in something as implausable as fate, I'd better start believing in it fully. And I guess you do learn important lessons from bad stuff...though I wish I could learn those lessons and apply them now, in a current (or past) situation instead of for later, in some undeterminable time and place with who knows who or what.
• In high school I thought the notion of "community" was utter BS (mainly because I didn't feel fully a part of the community there...probably because of my own social ineptitude), but now that I'm in college I'm a part of so many great communities and it's super! Every time I go to Quaker meeting or have a rehearsal for my kids theater group or sing Disney and 80s songs all the way back to my dorm from a party with my lovely queer family, I just love the idea of a close-knit community more and more! The only problem lies in them being horribly exclusionary, and I know being outgoing and welcoming people in isn't my strong suit.
• I can't belive I hadn't seen The Graduate before tonight...I mean, I love the 60s and 60s music and everything that went into that movie. Everything about it was so disorienting...the soundtrack, the way it was filmed with shaky camera work and weird tracking shots...the way the narrative arc was totally weird. I mean, he started his affair with Mrs. Robinson like 10 minutes into the movie with no real set-up to it. (Oh, sorry if I spoiled the movie there for you, y'know?) And by "disorienting", I mean "awesome!"

I sold the car to a guy named Peter...Peter Cottontail...

I can't believe I did it, but in that post on Media I forgot to mention one of my favorite things, if not my absolute favorite thing about my hometown: The Great Media Garage Sale! I think I know why I left it out, actually, since I haven't been since like the 11th grade. But I still miss it like whoa every year; I don't think there's a day when Media's sense of community (I just typed "cummumity"...make of that what you will) is stronger.

September's never been one of my favorite months. Fall's coming, everything in nature is dying, it means the beginning of the school year, which before college was a very bad thing, and even though I'm fine with school nowadays it still signifies some kind of disruption of life, which I've never been a fan of. But before the weather gets too cold, yard sale day comes around and everyone puts stuff out for cheap and you can walk around and talk to everyone and run into random people you hadn't seen in ages and it's great fun! Unfortunately, the street on which I grew up didn't attract many shoppers since it was relatively far off from the center of town and housed some unfriendly people. The upside was it gave me full reign to shop shop shop 'til I drop drop dropped. The downside was it meant I bought tons of junk every year and then had no means of selling it the next time garage sale day came around.

Anyhow, to exemplify how awesome this day is, here's an excerpt from my *gulp* Xanga from ages ago...Okay it's too poorly written so you won't get an actual passage of text, but here's the list of stuff I got when my friend and I walked up and down 10+ streets, all around town, to satisfy our packrat urges, complete with the ~s I used as flouncy bulletpoints when I was 15:

~ A bunch of old records (Boston, Billy Joel, Stevie Nicks, Steppenwolf, Jackson Browne )...Lydia bought the Captian and Tenile's greatest hits so that she can now play "Muskrat Love" whenever she feels the need to torture me.
~Lots of jewelry (IIRC it was a necklace that looked like a purse and some obnoxious tropical-looking earrings I wear to this day...as well as pineapple clip-on earrings that I've since lost)
~ Awesome Clothes
~And this wonderful movie:

The movie and a few records, and if I recall correctly, a few trashy novels I found (though the deluge of Jackie Collins books didn't come til next year...I'd problably be a much more intellectual person if I'd never gone through that phase), were free. Gotta love getting free stuff that you actually use (I still watch Santa Claus is Comin to town every year, and since ABC Family is being flaky with their holiday specials, the VHS comes in handy).

And then more free stuff comes the next day. Monday is trash day, so on Sunday everyone puts out the stuff they didn't sell and don't want to keep so people can rummage through it, and the day after that whatever's left over conveniently disappears, to sit in a landfill for 100 years. Actually, maybe that's part of why I like buying people's old stuff so much; I don't want it to go to waste so I let it clog up my closet in big boxes for years on end instead. Then, one day, I'll need, say a portable walkman tape player/AM radio, a bedazzler and a pair of clown pants (that'd be a fun night, wouldn't it?) and I won't have to go buy new ones. I also like old music and love the sound quality of records, so it makes sense to buy them for cheap. And I love the smell of the old paper of books and album liner notes, even if it's pure mildew. And, you know, cheap stuff is awesome by default.

More than anything, other people's stuff makes me feel connected to random strangers, people in my own town that I wouldn't say more than "hello" to otherwise. I like to know who else listened to that record (and create stories about how old they were and where they were when they first heard it), whose kids watched movie XYZ and when they decided they were "too old" for it (and one day they'll be my age and find it at a yard sale and decide to relive their childhoods like I did), and perhaps most importantly, who last devoured that Jackie Collins book and if they were reading it to laugh (this one's me when I judge the books' titles and covers), to escape (this one's me when I sit down in an airport and read one of them), or because they actually thought it was good literature (This one's not me, but sometimes I like to pretend that it is, especially with English teachers and the like). And the surprising number of people with trashy novels on their garage sale tables is always comforting; it's good to know I'm not alone. And I'd never actually pay money for an Engleburt Humperdink album or a formerly $5.99 Bejeweled CD-rom or someone's old perfume, I'm glad to know they're out there. To each their own?

And, of course, garage sales lent themselves to this gem from That 70s Show:

More Grand Hotel

Perfect Parody..."Nothing Ever Happens"...happier ending, too, I'd say...





Can I also say it makes me sad when pt. 1 of an awesome video has so many views and pt. 2 has way fewer? But conversely if this were a bad movie it'd make me happy to see the views plummet, and I'm sure that's the case with some videos. You win some, you lose some, I guess...

I vant to be alone

I should find another Greta Garbo book to read...reading about her and realizing how similar I was to her and bla bla helped me when I felt horribly lonely winter of last year; and I could use the feeling of some sort of affinity with somebody right now, even with somebody who died a few months before I was born.

Yet I find myself wanting to hole up and read/listen to music/write less and less...I think that for the first time in my life I'm genuinely enjoying the presence of other people and I find myself choosing the company of others over alone time at an alarming rate. As a proud introvert (though I was recently called a "quiet extrovert" by a friend and the phrase seemed to fit...or I could just be an introverted exhibitionist, hence the blog), I don't know how I feel about this whole needing people thing.

Broken Blossoms

We watched Broken Blossoms in my film class today. Racist as all get out (I mean, it was done by the guy who made Birth of a Nation), but at the end I just wanted to give the main characters hugs and tell them it'd be alright (even though...well, find the time/attention span to watch a silent movie and see it for yourself)

Anyways, the notion that all of the actors in it must've been long gone was sort of disturbing me. But then I realized that Lillian Gish actually did live in my lifetime (she lived from 1893-1993), and that just weirded me out more. But who wouldn't have wanted her career? Wikipedia says that she was in movies from 1912-1987...that's like the entire history/evolution of American Cinema right there. She should, like, come back from the dead and be a guest lecturer in my class.

And to think most people are just out to get their 15 minutes of fame.