I am like, never ever listening to one of your songs again

I hate Taylor Swift’s new song.  I know I’m not really her target audience, per se, but I just went to iTunes to look for songs for my running playlist and lo and behold,  “We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together” is #2 on the Top Singles list, second only to “Ronan” by Taylor Swift (that one should be #1 though, it’s about a boy who lost his battle with cancer).

So I listen to it.  I think I’d heard it on the radio once or twice but wasn’t paying that close attention.  Can we discuss the lyrics?

I remember when we broke up the first time  (me too – didn’t that spawn Teardrops on My Guitar?)
Saying this is it, I’ve had enough, ’cause like
We haven’t seen each other in a month  
When you, said you, needed space, what?  (not a good sign – you like, feel me?)
Then you come around again and say
Baby, I miss you and I swear I’m gonna change
Trust me, remember how that lasted for a day  (if you’re lucky)
I say, I hate you, we break up, you call me, I love you (oh yes, a most productive cycle.  I’m impressed with how well you play “Hard to Get”)

Oooh we called it off again last night
But Oooh, this time I’m telling you, I’m telling you  (you TELL him)
We are never ever ever getting back together
We are never ever ever getting back together
You go talk to your friends talk
To my friends talk to me  (ah yes, the fun game of telephone where, I saw him at Starbucks talking to a woman in line turns into, he’s like, practically engaged, y’all)
But we are never ever ever ever getting back together

Like ever… (Like, I’ve heard this before from you, buttercup)

I’m really gonna miss you picking fights
And me, falling for a screaming that I’m right
And you, will hide away and find your piece of mind with some indie record that’s much cooler than mine  (wait, what?  I don’t even know what you’re talking about.  I do know all records are cooler than yours, then again I’m not 14 anymore.  OMG WTF)

Oooh you called me up again tonight
But Oooh, this time I’m telling you, I’m telling you
We are never ever ever getting back together (Allow me to once again interject – you say this now, but you’re probably lying.  But like, we’ve all been there, ya know?  You just have to take a deep breath and move on.  May I suggest going to a bar and making out with a random stranger?)
We are never ever ever getting back together
You go talk to your friends talk
To my friends talk to me
But we are never ever ever ever getting back together

I used to think, that we, were forever ever ever  (Until he didn’t want to see you for a month)
And I used to say never say never
Huh, he calls me up and he’s like, I still love you
And i’m like, i’m just, I mean this is exhausting, you know  (Oh, I do know.  Hearing about it is no walk in the park either)
We are never getting back together, like ever

We are never ever ever getting back together
We are never ever ever getting back together
You go talk to your friends talk
To my friends talk to me
But we are never ever ever ever getting back together

We, oooh, oooh, not back together, we
Oh, getting back together

You go talk to your friends talk
And my friends talk to me
But we are never ever ever ever getting back together

These are like, the most inane lyrics ever.  I know, you’re probably thinking, “this bitch is just old and cranky and mad she’s not a gajillionaire for yodeling out loves songs with her guitar.”  Well, that might be true, but STILL.

My idea of a better break-up/broken-hearted song?

Although I’ve never seen this music video, so I’m not sure how I feel about it, but this still remains one of my all time favorites.  And is much more true and profound than, “we are like, never getting back together, until we do, like understand?”

Eye-roll.  Rant over.

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Once Again, Someone Beat Me To It

Yesterday when news broke that Amy Poehler and Will Arnet were ending their marriage, my Twitter and Facebook feeds exploded with various levels of devastation and people proclaiming that love no longer existed.  Really?  Did you know Will and Amy personally?  Did you attend their wedding, break one of your heels doing the Macarena and pass out on top of your bed in your full wedding attire but not before drunkenly making out with Will’s cousin Bill while declaring they were the greatest couple of all time?  Because unless you did, then really, you need to gain some perspective here.

Well Jezebel caught on to this ridiculousness and blessed us with the following blog about How to Survive the Demise of Your Favorite Celebrity Couple.  It could not be more condescending or sarcastic towards the group taking this personally, but is beyond hilarious – treating this breakup as you would your own personal devastation.  It is what I was thinking, but never wrote.

Similarly, some time ago, my friend Katie sent me a link to a hilarious and brilliantly amazing blog post entitled, here is what I hate about dating, which is everything I’ve ever thought but never written.  I read it and laughed so hard that a cried.

So basically, the next time I even have the faintest of thoughts about something to write, I’m just going to fucking write it.

Cheers to the weekend, people.

The Hawk Harrelson Drinking Game (Or Hawk Bingo)!

Thanks to Twitter, I learned that today is White Sox play-by-play announcer Hawk Harrelson’s birthday.  At the game last night (that was a win, thank GOD), Melissa, Matt and I were talking about Hawk Bingo and this morning I also decided to “establish” (i.e. Google to see if one already existed and then modify to my liking) a Hawk Harrelson Drinking Game.

I feel like there is no middle ground with Hawk – you either love him or hate him.  But if nothing else, you can safely know that you will get MANY Hawk-isms per game.

Actually, this is one of those games that could turn dangerous quickly, so please make sure to hydrate with some water in-between innings!

(Most of these are coming from the following two sources:  A Game of Inches and Ball four base hit).

Drink every time Hawk says the following:

  • He gone!
  • Stretch!
  • Get on back there!
  • He goes back, looks up, you can put it on the boarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrd, yes!
  • We got a man there.
  • And that’s a can o’corn
  • Chopper two hopper
  • Don’t stop now boys!
  • Mercy!
  • Yes! (Hell Yes! also counts – see Dayan Viciedo’s homer to beat the Yankees earlier in the summer)
  • When he says good guys (us)/bad guys (them)
  • When he complains that the opposing  pitcher is getting a strike zone much larger than the current White Sox hurler.
  • I think a new one is also “Sully’s happy, and Mully’s happy.”  I think this is in reference to Gordon Beckham’s mom and the dude from the Score because he only says this when Beckham homers or makes a clutch play (RBI, etc).  He definitely said it last night when Gordo hit his two-run bomb.
  • And then of course there’s always the chance of a rant against an umpire for a call against the Sox that he doesn’t agree with.

Because he says all of these things like 97 times per game, I am not encouraging chugging or taking shots – you’ll be bombed enough as it is.

A League of Their Own – Did She Lose on Purpose?

Yesterday, Brandon and I, while waiting for the Cubs game to start, got into a debate about the ending of A League of Their Own (and if you haven’t seen it and/or don’t know what I’m talking about, drop everything you’re doing RIGHT NOW and get that shit on Netflix instant or whatever ASAP).  Brandon claims that Geena Davis’ character, Dottie, drops the ball on purpose so Kit (Lori Petty) can be the hero and win the World Series for her team.

I wholeheartedly disagree.  If Dottie was going to blow the game on purpose, why did she then call a time out to tell Ellen Sue to throw high, fast balls, which she knows Kit cannot hit or lay off?

Also, maybe it’s because I’m the little sister, but I want to believe that Kit could beat her big sister at something.  (Side note:  it’s not my sister’s fault that my mom had to write a letter to our elementary school specifically requesting they NOT assign me a certain teacher for my 6th grade year.  Not only did the woman take makeup tips from Tammy Faye Baker, but every time she saw me in the hallway she would squeal, “You’re Miriam’s sistah!”  To which I always wanted to respond, “Bitch, I have a name!”  But you can’t say that when you’re ten.)

Apparently, there is an eternal debate going on about this scene.  By the way, what did we do before the internet?  I’m able to share this clip below, but if we were debating this in 1992, I’d have to reenact the scene by drawing stick figures.  (Side note – I saw this reenacted in real life this year on July 4 when A.J. Pierzynski barreled into Mike Napoli, who subsequently dropped the ball).  Anywho.  Here’s the scene (and it’s SUCH a great scene):

I actually googled something along the lines of “ending to a league of their own” and found some old message board full of back and forth on this very debate.

Now, ignoring the fact that these were posted 12 years ago and some sexist jerks are talking about how girls can’t play sports in general, someone named Miller, posted the following:

I don’t think she dropped the ball on purpose. For one thing, it would be an absolute rat-bastard thing to do to the rest of her team mates. For another, it would communicate that her relationship with her sister was fundamentally unchanged: she’s still patronizing her little sister. “Letting” her win is the sort of thing you do with a five year old, not another grown woman. It’s almost as much of a shit move as backstabbing your team by throwing the game. I think Kit legitimately came out on top in that play. The message I take from it is that, at the end, it was Kit who was the “real” ball player – Dottie had more raw talent, but Kit had the heart for it. Dottie was just killing time until her husband came home. Kit loved the game.

I wholeheartedly agree with this – why would she quit the team only to come back to the World Series and throw it on purpose?  No, she didn’t.  She just dropped the ball because Kit knocked her over – she had enough built up rage to hit her hard enough to make her drop the ball.

So that’s my argument – Dottie would not have bothered to come back for the series in addition to trying to get her sister to strike out to lose the game if she had every intention of setting Kit up to “win” so to speak – she tried the opposite, and Kit came out on top.  No way did she drop the ball on purpose.  No way.

20 Years Later

So, I see on People.com that the Backstreet Boys are reuniting for the first time since 2006 and are recording an album to coincide with the 20th (!!) anniversary of their inception.

Let’s ignore, momentarily, how old this makes me feel and discuss the age old question:

What in the HELL is “I Want It That Way” about?  Released in May of 1999, it was a song I listened to on repeat driving around the back roads of New Hampshire in my Subaru, heartbroken over Ben.  I’m not kidding – I would routinely sleep over at Lisa’s, wake up at some ungodly hour, and go for a drive.  Even if I didn’t sleep there, I’d routinely take random drives just to be alone – often driving from say, Concord to Tilton, just to get gas.

It was a sad, lonely summer for me.  I didn’t want to do anything – and pretty much didn’t.  Instead of being excited to go to Miami for college, I was crying all the time over the relationship that wasn’t.  So, this album really brings me back to that summer and all the memories, for better and for worse.

What the hell was I talking about?  Oh right – the lyrics.  I could not have done a better job than LA Weekly did – you can read the blog in its entirety here, but below are some gems to think about (Ben Westhoff, whoever you are, you’re a genius):

“So, wait, the “that” that I say is different than the “that” that you say? You’re saying that I want it a different way? A way that is not preferable to you?

Then the chorus kicks in and this thing goes off the rails.

Tell me why
Ain’t nothin’ but a heartache
Tell me why
Ain’t nothin’ but a mistake
Tell me why
I never wanna hear you say,
“I want it that way”

None of the sentiments here seem to go with any of the other ones. Even worse, no further explanation is given for what “that” is.”

… and then…

“So, check this, it turns out that the popularized version of “I Want It That Way” was not the only version the Backstreet Boys recorded. There’s another version out there, one thatactually makes sense.

The key lyric:
No goodbyes (ain’t nothing but a heartache)
No more lies (ain’t nothing but a mistake)
That is why
I love it when I hear you say,
“I want it that way”

!! This is like discovering the rosetta stone of craptastic late ’90s boy band music!”

So basically the song was just never destined to make sense, as the blog later points out.  I mean, we know it’s about some sort of relationship – but what are they agreeing to disagree about?  Why are they two worlds apart?  Is it a long distance relationship?  And actually, because the song makes no sense, it was perfectly fitting that the accompanying music video – them singing in an airport hanger (?) in front of screaming fans before they board a private plane – also made no sense.

Also, can we talk about Nick’s hair?  Also part 2, he’s only 32!  That means he was 12 when the band assembled, which seems ridiculous.  Or maybe he was 13.  Either way.

The rest of the album (yes I bought it, bite me), however, does have some catchy little ditty’s that actually make sense.

My freshman year roommate, Kandyce, who was beyond awesome, also had the CD and we’d routinely listen to it all the time while studying.

My second favorite song on there was “Don’t Wanna Lose You Now,” and the lyrics are as straightforward as you can imagine.

Kandyce always referred to Nick Carter’s solo ballad “I Need You Tonight” as “Nick’s Penis Song” (a perfect descriptor).

This album brings me back to 1999 as I ended high school and 2000 as I finished my first year of college, none the wiser about life or the meaning of “I Want It That Way.”

I can close my eyes now and see myself walking around campus in Coral Gables in long sleeves and jeans, too self-conscious about my body to dress appropriately for the climate.  High 80s?  Pssh, didn’t matter.  Now I don’t care – with this past summer reaching the high 90s more often that not, people just had to deal with seeing my arm flab.

You’re probably thinking:  why is this bitch obsessed with an album that she associates with so many horrible memories?

Well, I can tell you that good and bad, the experiences I had that summer and my freshman year of college are all part of the wisdom I now have in my old age of 31 (yeah, right).

And before you ask – if given the choice, I would absolutely rather listen to this album on repeat until the end of time than another goddamn Taylor Swift song.