A Cynic Gets Teary

My name is Taylor and I am a cynic.

I come from a long line of cynics and, like most people with a problem, I surround myself with people who have similar vices. Some may rely on narcotics and booze- we come armed with cynicism and snark.

So this morning, when I was sent me link from my friend Lindsay titled “18 Joyful Declarations of Love,” followed by “60 Moments That Gave Me Chills,” I couldn’t help but laugh. Lindsay is the girl who inspired “How To Know If You’re In A Relationship,” one of my most read blog posts. Ever. She is also the girl who made secret “hidden” wedding/baby/relationship boards on Pinterest after we, her friends, discovered that she had been “liking” pins with a sentimental bent. She’s not exactly a fan of warm and funny.

But she commented, as she sent me these, that she hadn’t been prepared to tear up and as i scrolled through the pictures, neither was I.

I’m not wedding’s biggest fan. I’m not a fan of should-do’s and pomp and circumstance. I hate the way weddings and proposals and the like have a way of sucking the point out of a relationship. I hate big productions and the stress and dysfunction that comes with it.

And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little callous about the institution of marriage too. I’m a child of divorce. I can make a laundry list of my questions, comments and concerns for married couples, especially when those married couples get tense, get bitter and fall apart into once-again-singles with kids I probably end up projecting my own hang ups onto.

So what is different about the gay couple’s lining up in Seattle for the privilege of getting married? Why am I in tears?

Love is beautiful. I don’t think there is any denying that a demonstration of people’s commitment to the people they care about is a moving thing. And where we straight people have been taking for granted the institution for years- jumping in and out of marriages, treating it as a to-do, instead of a celebration of a shared desire to build a family and life together. It’s as much a stepping stone, a societal expectation as anything else.

And that’s not to say that there isn’t gay divorce, and 20 years from now, we all won’t be in the same dysfunctional marriage pool together. But for the time being, you can’t look at these people and not see a joy and a level of gratefulness, uncommon in straight counterparts. And that? That seems to warrant a bit of misty-ness, even from cynics like me.

Then they came for me…

I had always equated my passion for LGBT rights to the old Nazi Germany quote by pastor Martin Niemöller:

“First they came for the communists and I didn’t speak out because I wasn’t a communist.

Then they came for the trade unionists and I didn’t speak out because I wasn’t a trade unionist.

Then they came for the Jews and I didn’t speak out because I wasn’t a Jew.

Then they came for the Catholics and I didn’t speak out because I was Protestant.

Then they came for me and there was no one left to speak out for me.”

As someone who’s family would have fallen in a couple of those categories circa 1930′s- I always found it a particularly powerful reminder of why saying something is important when people’s rights are being infringed on.

Yesterday’s 2-1 court ruling that California’s Proposition 8 was unconstitutional is a victory, but it is just one of many the LGBT community has to weather for a right I often take for granted.

When I was little, my mom used to tell me you can never be nice to too many people and you can never make too many friends.

When it comes to the fight for equal rights in the LGBT community- there can’t be enough friends, gay or straight.

Yay for yesterday’s victory- and know that we’re all, gay and straight, ready for the battles to come.

If God hated gays, he wouldn’t have made them so awesome. Or such fabulous dancers.

These last few days have been video-filled.

First, the new Dark Knight Rises trailer came out and I just couldn’t stop watching it. Everything about it looks awesome. And even for those of you who don’t want to like it, you will. Because it’s going to be awesome and epic. And mostly you’ll succumb to peer pressure. Because let’s be honest- everyone’s ass will end up standing in line for those tickets. Even my mom. Who I forced to watch the first one.

Then this morning, as I was getting ready for work, they played a video on The Today Show of a cat petting a baby to sleep. We all know how much I hate cats, but seriously- doesn’t this beg so many questions? Has the cat done this before? Were the parents just sitting around watching the baby cry and decided to see what the cat would do? Or was the cat just like: Why are you such bad parents letting this brat scream?? Make it SHUT UP. And wouldn’t this further prove my theory that cats know stuff?? They know. Which would further explain why they come and rub themselves on my very allergic self. And now, in desperate need of a lunchtime break, I discovered The 12 Gays of Christmas on YouTube. This video includes at least 2 of my top 5 favorite things in life- Gays & Dancing. Plus I’m drinking a Diet Coke as I type, which means we’re now up to 3.

Seriously- How awesome is this video? Doesn’t it just fill you with a festive spirit? Cause it should. And below the video someone posted- If God hated gays so much, he definitely wouldn’t have made them so awesome, which really sums up everything this video made me feel.

Who’s in for learning the dance with me?

Shit Girls Say- reasons I have guy friends.

I have female friends.

Like 6 of them.

And in almost every instance they would say I am the exception- mostly they are friends with guys.

And I would say the same.

From the time I was little I have never bonded well with girls. While they were swearing to be besties forever and exchanging their bff bracelets or necklaces or whatever, I was elsewhere. Probably in the corner reading.

Even now, the sound of squealing girls gossiping about their date last night/shopping trip/ hair fluffing ritual, just reminds me of those whistles that emit that strange high pitched noise only dogs can hear.

Awful right?

Because women are wonderful. And can do wonderful things.

Sue me for having a hard time swallowing girliness, full of sugar and bows.

And that is probably why this video cracks me up- Even if I am just as guilty of a few of these “girl” sayings.

Happy Birthday to the Grandfather of Sexy

I just realized it is Bob Fosse’s birthday. And as my favorite choreographers and the grandfather of HOT women on broadway  I felt a post was warranted to observe his brilliance. (So what? He may have slept with several of the hot women he created pieces for on Broadway. He actually may have been a little bit slutty. Perhaps grandfather isn’t the most apt description, but watch the below clip and don’t try to rationalize the metaphor)

Examples of his choreography can be seen everywhere from the Pussycat Dolls to Beyonce’s Single Ladies Video. (Her choreography is based on a dance Fosse created for 3 women on the Ed Sullivan Show entitled Mexican Breakfast. There are actually some hysterical mash-ups including my favorite )

Lastly, my favorite thing about Fosse was that many of his trademarks: turned-in knees, the use of hats, gloves on dancers, were because of his own insecurities. He has awful turnout, hated his thinning hair  and thought his hands appeared “odd” on stage.  He shouldn’t have had a shot in the back row, in an off broadway chorus.

But his talent and his drive gave him his shot and he never looked back. Fosse is a legend and a history-maker and most would agree that broadway, women in dance, and theatricality just wouldn’t be the same without him.

Pretty freaking fabulous, right? Happy Birthday Bob Fosse!

Alcohol, Booze, Hooch, Juice… whatever you want to call it.

It’s officially summer and the time of year for celebrations, formals, and countless other events. So often at these events there is a bar or some sort of alcohol. And even more often, if you are a student, or barely 21-year-old, and attending one of these events there is some sort of disclaimer about alcohol.

Don’t drink here- we’re too young. It’s not appropriate. In this position you shouldn’t be seen drinking publicly. And I can’t help but be amazed at how drinking, especially among the just-legal crowd is seen as taboo.

The thing is, I understand the reason for concern. Collegiates are notorious for binge drinking. Keg stands and 21 shots are considered rights of passage. It certainly doesn’t make our case for responsible drinking any easier when we are the town known for an institution like “The Walk”.

But I wonder if insinuating that we just “shouldn’t drink” at social functions is the wrong message to be sending. It’s as if they are proposing two options: either you get drunk or you don’t drink at all.

Whatever happened to responsibility? I am perfectly capable at being at a function with a group of people and having a drink. Just one. And I am able to maintain my dignity, sense of self and act as a perfectly capable representative.

It isn’t as if alcohol is the only beverage that alters one’s body chemistry. I have a Diet Coke or coffee in my hand almost every day. And let’s face it, it is not simply because it tastes good. It’s because some days, the caffeine is all that keeps me going, activity-to-activity, from 7am to 9pm or later.

Further, alcohol is a part of our culture. You can’t turn on a tv, look in a magazine, and there you see it. There are television shows that spend entire episodes with people partying. Images of people drinking are everywhere.

When I think about it though, what we see most often is images of people drunk. The dialogue is that they are drinking to get drunk. A party isn’t a party without being unable to remember parts of it in the morning. Just about every reality television show has one explosive episode with too much alcohol and swinging fists.

And if we want to act like that’s what alcohol is for, then is it any wonder we can’t be trusted to drink? I mean isn’t that the same logic behind a drinking age of 21? A drinking age, every few years, people propose we raise? Because apparently we can send people off to war at 18, but they aren’t old enough quite yet to maturely make decisions with alcohol.

So maybe our language needs to change, in order for the taboo and the binge drinking to go away. Alcohol is a drink like any other. We need to be mindful of its effects. We need to realize that sometimes one drink is more than enough. And perhaps we need to prove to those around us that we are more than capable of handling ourselves.

The Reality of Reality

My name is Taylor and I have a problem. It isn’t alcohol or drugs or the newly popular porn addiction. I love bad television, specifically of the reality genre.

Usually the family of addicts look back to the abusers childhood for tell-tell signs and my past would certainly point to this future problem. In elementary school I use to race home in time to watch the last bits of Saved By The Bell, followed by People’s Court. I loved the courtroom drama and was far more invested than a 8 or 9 year old should be. I remember being bitter when one judge retired, and a new took his place. I didn’t like the new one nearly as much. (On the other hand, the current female judge, I love.)

By high school I had moved on to include other televised train wrecks, sometimes alone, sometimes with enablers. I never missed the opportunity to watch mistress drama on Dr. Phil or baby daddy drama on Maury. Mom added to the problem with our Sunday afternoon (after church of course) viewings of Flavor of Love and Rock of Love. We watched the first couple of seasons religiously, before the shows completely dissipated into predictability and strippers.

And then, by the beginning of college, Bravo really found its niche, documenting the lives of the chemically imbalanced millionaires. My incredibly independent and self sufficient mother and I indulged each week, watching spoiled women whine about how tough life was with their various hired help and mani-pedi-botox sessions.

The irony is that as a Communication major, I took several media, pop culture and society classes with professors who thought these shows, in some ways, were the downfall of our culture. I began to watch the shows with a more critical eye, laughing at the stereotypes, the cliches and the societal failures, even being outraged at down right racism and sexism. Yet I kept tuning in.

The question for most is probably why. Friends that know me- the girl who will buy Newsweek over Glamour, who has applications on her phone to track every news headline imaginable, who never misses a Daily Show if she can help it, who dreams of one day being a politician’s Communication Director, and who refuses to acknowledge that election days could be of little importance to anyone, this makes no sense. I’ve never been the girl who talked about celebrities like they were friends, or poured over magazines for the latest gossip. So what is it about these low brow shows that keep me tuning in for more.

Perhaps it is a desire to view the drama I maintain such distance from in my own life. Perhaps it is the quiet reassurance that any familial crazy cannot begin to compare with My-Brother-May-Also-Be-My-Father-Who-Is-Now-Sleeping-With-My-Cat. Or perhaps in a world where Human Rights violations occur every day, where legitimate politicians get booted to page 2, while Sarah Palin is skipping around talking about Paul Revere- arms activist, I enjoy an escape. I enjoy feeling like everyone watching these shows is on the the same page. It’s also probably why I could never embrace shows like The Bachelor where I didn’t feel like the contestants GOT that no one falls in love 20 minutes after meeting. They always seemed to feel that this was a serious mission, and I always felt them to be seriously disturbed. The beauty of my bad reality is that this isn’t anyone’s reality. It’s a world of characters, created to captivate and illustrate the most ridiculous in human nature. And that keeps me watching.

On the Right Track Baby, I Was Born This Day (via Bob)

Here is my end of the week/beginning of vacation/something fun to do mid-day blog post.

Ready?

I am one of those people who absolutely adores my birthday. I expect it to be nothing less than a national holiday, and for everyone around me to treat it as such. After reading the below post about birthday buddies on one of the popular on the Word Press site, I was inspired to look up my own celebrity birthday buddies. I’m not sure all of the below are worthy of sharing “my” national holiday with me, but I guess I’ll have to be ok with it.

My star birthday buddies include: Notebook star Rachel McAdams (1976), singer Toni Braxton (1968), American Idol judge Simon Cowell (1959), Christian recording artist Michael W. Smith (1957), Bon Jovi drummer Tico Torres (1956), and cellist Yo-Yo Ma (1955). My favorites though include singer/songwriter John Cougar Mellencamp, a fellow Indiana native, and Taylor Hicks from American Idol, a birthday buddy and a name buddy.

Who are yours? Anyone you have a connection with, or are particularly proud of sharing a birthday with?

I once read somewhere that each person shares their birthday with 9 million other people. Hmmm…kinda makes you feel a little less special. That is, of course, unless you share your birthday with some really cool people. When I was in high school I had the same birthday as my 2 best friends, Eddie and Harold. We discovered it our sophomore year when we were filling out information cards during Band. Of the 3 of us, I was the youngest. I was born … Read More

via Bob