jar of hearts

Full Disclosure #1:
Sometimes - ok most of the time - I forget how to spell my blog's name. Louisiana Public Schools what-up!!! (Insert lectures from my friends from home. Admit it - you can't spell either.)

Full Disclosure #2:
I should be writing my self assessment for my annual evaluation RIGHT NOW - it's due in, yep, less than 24 hours. This is a big deal, right? I should put my heart and soul into this one opportunity to explain why I'm thebomb.com (not an actual website) - but instead I'm writing in my blog for the first time in a months. Brilliant timing! Good thing we don't have to assess our ability to prioritize.

Like most of my coworkers at this hour, I'm finding every possible distraction to avoid writing my self eval. First I tried running at the Marriott gym - terrible idea when I just got back from a dinner with my team who has a this-must-be-my-last-meal-on-earth per diem eating mentality. Then I started researching Elizabeth Edwards and got a quite sad - which led to a vengeful image search of John Edwards' mistress (and according to google trends - I'm not the only one).  I still stand true to my decision to NOT vote him into office. In fact, I'd rather elect the psychic John Edwards - which, by the way, was the only John Edwards image search trend to trump "John Edwards Mistress".  Think of all the disasters we could have avoided if we had a bona-fide psychic second in line (I'm talking to you Katrina).

Now I've turned to TV. Good thing this hotel doesn't get Bravo. On Mad Money, I see Marc Benioff (Salesforce.com CEO) has worked some more cloud magic with his unveiling of Database.com - which probably means I'll have a lot of studying to do in the spring - which for YOU means another blog entry or two come test time.

And about five minutes ago, Conan has this pixie, Christina Perri, playing some angry girl music on a piano. The song is called Jar of Hearts and for the exception of the "h" in her name, sounds right in my wheelhouse. She even mentioned ghosts in the first stanza! Perfect!

If you're a girl, enjoy pretending to tell people "Who do you think you are" and/or want to distract yourself from your self assessment, check out this jam.

Full Disclosure #3:
I should have started this entry with "Dear Diary...".

xoxo,
cristina

the good life

I've been asking Kevin Krauth to write my first guest blog entry for a while now. Kev writes like he talks ... it's exciting, introspective AND provides me the rare opportunity to brush up on my SAT words! In addition, this song is PERFECT for Kev; it combines his love of One Republic while pushing aside his everything's-great-and-nobody's-happy tendencies (see: Angry Square blog posts). Thanks Kev for, once again, giving in to my demands (or as you would say - acquiescing to my musical demagoguery!). Miss you. - Cristina

A disclaimer: being neither a writer nor a musician, I feel that I am gloriously ill-suited for the task of creating a blog entry commending my own perhaps misguided taste in music to an audience I know little to nothing about. Still, like most efforts of folly, this task is being done almost entirely on impulse, which, in my experience, has been the one shared ingredient in both what I consider to be the most enjoyable and the most embarrassing moments in my short life.

Now that I’ve gotten that off my chest, on to the matter at hand: “The Good Life” by OneRepublic. Technically speaking, the song is probably not appropriate fodder for this blog considering that Teeba likes to pretend that she is on the cutting edge of musical zeitgeist (“Stake a flag in it so Teeba can’t claim it!”), and this song is neither a nostalgic throwback, nor an off-the-beaten-path indie rag. Nevertheless, in light of the fact that “Apologize” reached number 1 in 16 countries (thanks, Wikipedia), “The Good Life” has flown pretty low on the radar of uber-pop success, and it’s “play on repeat”-ability is pretty undeniable.

Toeing the line between Teeny-Bopper Sensation and Gen-X Trendy, “The Good Life” has a great balance of catchiness and feel-good philosophy while only mildly dabbling in cheesy platitudes, all of which combined create a recipe for a song that appeals to the masses.

What really sets the song apart, though, is the onus it puts on the listener to take a good hard look at your life and say “Crap… I guess I have it pretty good.” Spitting in the eye of Ben-Folds, Ryan Tedder makes you realize that being male middle class and white really isn’t so bad. Because no matter how much I watch Entourage and dream about living the life of Vince and the gang, deep down I know that 1) It’ll never happen, and 2) It’s for the better.

“The Good Life” is all about being happy where you are. I mean, who hasn’t woken up on a train to Picadilly trying to piece together the events that put you there by looking through the clues on your phone? That’s also why I think the song has more geographic shoutouts than a Ron Artest interview, because let’s face it, you can find happiness anywhere… Well, except maybe Cleveland… Or Detroit.

If you’re still not convinced, consider this: if you’ve heard the song, chances are it was either while listening on your iPod or on the radio, and if you own either one, that puts you in the wealthiest 1% of the world’s population. It wouldn’t be a stretch either to assume that when you did hear the song it was playing through the stereo of your car. And if you have a car, that means you can basically go where you want when you want, without a moment’s hesitation. Finally, if you’re reading this, that means you have a computer (or at least access to one), and that computer is connected to this internet.

So, knowing nothing more about you than that you listen to music and read blogs on the internet, I’ve deduced that you are an independent, affluent individual with more information than you could ever possibly ingest in your lifetime at your disposal should you decide to take advantage of it. So, to Ryan’s question, “Can someone please tell me what there is to complain about?”

bloodbuzz ohio

I kinda hate that telling you about a great song/band requires some cute sentimentality on my part. Being cute and sentimental isn't as easy as it seems! These past few weeks, I've had to write a lot for work and have little typing energy left. Accept my lack of creative prowess in this entry as a testament to how much I think this band stands up on its own. I have 5 minutes, let's do this:

Download Bloodbuzz Ohio by The National. And then download Conversation 16. Then write a check in the amount of a bajillion dollars to me. I'm not exactly sure what constitutes a bloodbuzz and I've never been to Ohio, but the lead singer sounds like Johnny Cash and mentions bees quite a bit (Kev, why do you like bees so much?). Added benefit: if you like it, your commitment to something national is no longer dependent upon dumbo-ears Strasburg.

The back story is that I'm most likely ADHD and need music playing at all times to help me focus. To get through all. this. writing. I obviously need a good, mellow soundtrack. After downloading the new Stars album, Amazon recommended that I also download The National. Since I'm not musically gun-shy, I blew the $5 and am now consequently in love with an album that has lyrics I can't softly sing while typing away at work...

(like this)

Stand up straight at the foot of your love
I lift my shirt up

(and more concerning-ly this)

I'm a confident liar
Had my head in a oven so you'd know where I'll be
I'll try to be more romantic
I want to believe in everything you believe

I wish Roman would believe everything I believe:

me: download Conversation 16 ... I think its target audience is zombies
Roman: i'm not a zombie
me: but you like zombies ... so you should try to understand them
and the song is awesome
Roman: i don't want to understand them, i want to destroy them
me: you're such a novice
Roman: and you're clearly going to be the first to die

See, I'm a confident liar too. But I'm not lying about how good these songs are - enjoy! Oh and for the record, all zombie movies are terrible.

feels like saving the world

Oh. My. God. Becky.  Have you heard what's been playing on the radio these days?  America, wtf!  Enrique Iglesias' song I Like It - you know, the theme to the Jersey Shore where Enrique dazzles us with his penchant for it - is number three on the charts!  Well sir, I'd like it if I could make it to work without having to pull over and stuff my ears with cotton to stop the Hot 99.5-induced bleeding.

Despite the radio's best efforts - baby got back!  I found a real gem of a song - Feels Like Saving The World by Outlandish.

So far today - just on this computer - I've listened to it 23 times, which does not include this morning, when I put the video on repeat and danced stupidly around my room.  I'm 100% obsessed.  Only 160 more plays until we dethrone Miss Taylor Swift's Love Story (a black mark in my iTunes history - stupid crushes).

Hmm … how to describe this song … well, for starters the beat sounds eerily similar to Nelly Furtado’s Say It Right and there’s a little bit of rap … none of that back.seat.windows.up ... more “I could listen to this in front of my boss and not blush” rap.  About 30 seconds in, things start to get interesting … I don’t want to ruin all the twists and turns … however don’t take their use of mercy and rise as a sign that Feels Like Saving the World is Jars of Clay dressed up in a Timbaland mask.  And before you get started, know it’s not all hip-hoppy; I could completely see one of our hot little acappella groups breaking it down and hopefully directing this line my way:  

Sugar, sugar I was dreaming last night about you

Oh new song, I was dreaming about you too!  But where do we place this little ditty?  It’s as if Spanish hip-hop, all dolled up in a leopard-print dress and last season’s Snooki hair, walked up to The Fray and said “You tryin’ to smoosh right now?”.  Turns out Outlandish is an award-winning Danish rap group who have been around since 1997.  Ugh I totally missed out on this boat!  And good thing they don’t live in America or else these Moroccan-Pakistani-Cuban-Hondurans would have had a tough time filling out the ethnicity question on their Census form.

Ok stop reading and start listening.  Let's make America a little musically cultured.  Oh and don't listen to this song once.  Listen to it twice ... or 159 times.  You can borrow my computer.

little secrets

I know a thing or two about manners.  The mere thought of calling your parents by their .. first .. name .. makes my stomach tighten. As your guest, I will promptly pull the sheets off the bed at the end of my stay and can guarantee a thoughtful thank you card within three days of your favor.  I even earned the Girl Scout Manners badge in record time!  We could pretend that, as a Southerner, I was born with these habits; that in utero, they were implanted deep within my fibers among pools of sweet tea and cornbread.  Nope.  In 1992, while you were enjoying a bounty of Peeps and Mini Cadbury Eggs, my Easter basket was filled with 856 pages of Emily Post's Guide to Etiquette.  Nice way to blow your bunny cover, mom.
Maggie definitely got a Barbie.

But these days I've been obsessed with Manners, Passion Pit's first full length album.  Since the inception of this little project, I've had so many of my musical muses (Roman, Lindsay, Johnny, Kev) tell me I need to immediately sample this slice of american electronica heaven.  This genre gets a lot of play on my JesusPhone thanks to The Postal Service, but even if you're new to the area I bet you've unknowingly bopped your head to The Reeling and Sleepyhead while watching The Hills' stock footage of leggy, unbalanced lady-swarms.  Want to impress your friends?  The not-so-secret fan favorite on this album is Little Secrets.

I know in my first post I banned secrets - let's throw them to the wind with our padded spinning shorts and protein shakes!  But truth be told, I have all kinds of little secrets and now with this song I basically have a musical enabler.  Granted when you first hear this song, you're going to think Passion Pit lived the first years of its life in a clown car (I did), but give the track a few seconds and you'll be thinking the same thing:

Let this be our little secret
No one needs to know we're feeling

But I do know what you're feeling! You love this song because it indulges so many of the reasons you hit play (and repeat) in the first place- your mood is lightened, you're intrigued by all the little noises coming together so perfectly ... and if you're me, you want to put on your favorite pair of legwarmers and make more secrets just so that you can sing about them.

I'm sure these were not the kind of manners Emily Post would prefer, but if she wanted to keep herself and her girdle current, she'd better download this song stat.

white houses

Has it really been a month?  Yikes!  Guess counting people took more time than I anticipated.  But now I'm back - committed to the cause - and have a yummy little number that you need to play on repeat immediately (if you don't already).

So wanna know the fastest way to make me happy?  Play Vanessa Carlton.  Not only do I love her music, I think I want to be her.  Only she can match the enthusiasm and ADHD-ness to which I bang My Heart Will Go On out on the piano (wearing this, wearing only this).  She dated my future blog-subject/husband Stephan Jenkins, is a classically trained ballerina, has long shiny brown hair and likes to wear a lot of eyeliner.  Did your heart just explode in envy?  Yeah, mine too!

Initially, I wasn't too impressed with Vanessa and her completely unrelatable hit A Thousand Miles:

Cause you know I'd walk a thousand miles
If I could just see you...
Tonight.

Don't count on me walking a thousand miles in one night to see you.  Even if you've got Ryan Reynold's wit, Justin Bieber's 'bama bangs and Brad Pitt's ability to eat on camera, I would only get about 55 miles - putting me in Woodbridge, VA.  Vanessa, it's ok that you weren't a math major, but a song about being so in love that you'd spend all night walking to a place that just got a Target isn't going to tickle my pickle.

Shockingly,  I don't remember when I first heard White Houses.  I can't give you details as to what I was wearing, what I was thinking, what homework I was ignoring - all I know it was sometime early senior year at Duke.  I've been a Vanessa believer ever since.

Whenever I hear White Houses, I just want to spin around in happy little circles just like Vanessa in her banned-from-MTV video (apparently her coming-of-age lyrics were too descriptive for the land of fist pumps and Justin Bobbys).  I love the melody - so sweetly vulnerable - and how it interplays with antsy, awkward tempo.  And the lyrics?  I feel like I'm playing house on the set of The Wonder Years - so excited, filled with self-importance and no a clue as to what I'm doing:

Maybe I'm a little bit over my head
I come undone at the things he said
And he's so funny in his bright red shirt
We were all in love and we all got hurt

So give Vanessa a spin - if you like it, I also recommend Nolita Fairytale and Hands On Me.  If you don't like it, well, you're probably a communist.

with or without you

Today I was walking around Pentagon City Mall, collecting some delights for Saturday's party, when I heard tidbits of possibly one of the most epic songs ever known to man.  I couldn't bask in all its glory at that moment - my hearing was impaired by those visiting middle school kids and their relentless sexting - however once in my car, I promptly threw in my Joshua Tree CD and played track three ... on repeat.

I'll admit it - I'm not the biggest U2 fan.  In fact, I really don't get the hype.  The truth of the matter is that I bought their CD in high school to impress the opposite sex; my male cohorts at the time loved Bono and his creepy sunglasses. With my Hanson albums carving a scarlet mmmbop into my chest, I was basically forced onto a street with no name.  For months, The Joshua Tree gathered dust in my little black Case Logic ... until a cold day in August 1999.

Actually, the day wasn't cold at all - it started out like any summer day in Mandeville; me and my friends swimming in my pool, ripening our tans and demanding that my dad make us pina coladas (without the alcohol - see Prom After-Party Invite for details).  All was well until I was made aware that my boyfriend had decided that he was going to dump me upon returning from soccer camp.

Dumped?  What?  But that ruined all our (my) plans!  What about our group date to see Blair Witch?  What about homecoming?  I mean we had gone to school together since we were four years old ... and how many couples were birthed by the same doctor ... who was he to mess with fate?  Oh AND we had a fish together.  Men can be so selfish.

This was my 16 year old girl logic.  Bless. My. Heart.
It should be noted that the fish jumped to its death a few weeks later.     

After the shock of news set in, I decided that I'd beat him to the punch.  I left him a sassy little message ... I had decided that we needed to talk.  The next morning we met on the lakefront, said our goodbyes and then made plans to meet up with our incestuous group of friends that night.

Seeing as this was my first relationship, it never crossed my mind that it would eventually end (see Plans section above).  Without a real life reference point, I did what any pure blooded American would do - turned on the TV.  My misery needed company and I found that in ... Ross and Rachel.

You remember when they broke up.  It's nighttime ... rainy ... lots of forelorn looks from New York windowsills.  But what you really remember is With or Without You playing in the background, burning a We-Were-On-A-Break sized hole into your heart.  Needless to say, I found my 10th grade break-up anthem.

So when I heard this song today, it made me laugh.  I think sometimes, we love to be heartbroken.  In small doses, that raw emotion is refreshing.  I'd bet good money that most of us secretly enjoy amplifying those feelings with a great song like this one, obviously played on repeat.  I love that 16 year old version of me because I know, much like Ross and Rachel, everything turns out just fine.

Spoiler Alert:  Taylor and I never got back together.

everything. kate. nash.

Remember in Clueless, when Cher has an epiphany that she’s “totally butt-crazy in love with Josh”?  That’s how I feel about Kate Nash - minus the creepy incest factor.

Joel Mitchell introduced me to Kate the morning after our first January New Years party while I was stationed on the boys' couch, nursing a well deserved January hangover.  I believe Joel pulled up her video in hopes to raise my spirits to the point that I'd get off their couch and go home; instead he sent me into a month long "I LOVE THIS SONG!" tailspin.
ok it's lasted well over a month..

Sure, Amy Winehouse and Lily Allen have had more international attention, but I have a sneaking suspicion that most will find Kate more original, relatable and sustainable than her fellow British songstresses (and that staying power isn't because she'll probably outlast the coke-captains of England's next train wreck).

The best introduction to Kate Nash is via the video for her #2 UK hit, Foundations:


Did you hear what she said??

You said I must eat so many lemons, cause I am so bitter
I said I'd rather be with your friends mate, cause they are much fitter

Unbelievably sassy.  In one little song she called out her boyfriend, tugged at your "should I stay with him" heart strings and made red heads slightly more appealing.  I bet my mom even said "Oh snap Kate Nash!"

Not only do I love her lyrics - she's amazing in concert.  We were lucky enough to see her at the 9:30 club and in that intimate atmosphere, you could completely imagine Kate as a little girl, locked away in her room angrily banging on her piano because she was forced to wear pink and pearls.

The entire album Made of Bricks can be played on repeat (except for Birds - it's an acquired taste). We haven't heard a peep from Kate since 2008, mainly because she left her budding career to get married (at 22? I hope this turns into some nice break-up songs). But worry not - she's about to come out of her two year hiatus with a new album at the end of April. You should completely treat yourself.

Speaking of treats, check out this little video I found for Nicest Thing. You'll be totally butt-crazy in love with Kate Nash too.



For the record, when I say I when I said two sugars, actually I meant four Splendas.

there's no secrets this year

Look. You and I both know that I have no business writing a blog. I’m well aware of where my writing talents belong (facebook!). However few things excite me as much as finding a new great song and maybe, just maybe, introducing someone to a song they'll love too.

So here's the song that inspired this experiment. If I were this song's parents, I'd be so proud - print out this post, cover it in little metallic stars and display it prominently on the fridge. 

There's No Secrets This Year has been on repeat for a good two weeks now. Recently, I’ve started going to spin class and they weren’t lying – it’s absolute murder. The entire time I’m thinking “Is this woman crazy? Who abused her as a child and why does she have to take it out on me?” The only thing that gets me through the class is the soundtrack. I heard this jam in minute forty-five of day one. My chicken legs were on fire and for the first time thought I could actually throw-up in my mouth (true story: all other threats of this in the past were a lie).

This song is brought to us by Silversun Pickups. You know their song Lazy Eye for its obnoxiously long guitar solo on Rock Band. This song is much more upbeat … maybe too upbeat for situations outside of fighting off ninjas and communists. Whenever it comes on, I’m converted into a bonafide bad ass. I'm like Kevin Garnett - ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE!
I know who that is. I’m really good at google.

I like the lyrics too:
I'll tell you a secret
Let's make this perfectly clear
There's no secrets this year

Admittedly simple, but I find the idea liberating. I romanticize having no secrets. Imagine: you'd ask me a question and BAM! the absolute truth. Yikes.

So check it out.  Oh and make me a protein shake.