VMA Performances To Help You Get Over Miley

I’m not gonna pretend like the VMA’s is too “mainstream” for me. Because I watch it each and every year and I’m not ashamed to say it. However, after last night’s monstrosity that was Miley’s shitsho-I mean, performance. I will refrain from commenting on it and instead will present you with some performances that will help you get over Miley, if her tongue and twerking aren’t already burned into your brain. PS. I suggest expanding the videos because they are a little too small for the epicness they produce.

Britney Spears “I’m A Slave 4 U” 2001

I’m gonna bypass the fact that she is obviously lip syncing because I’d like to see most people try to sing and dance like that at the same time. (Before you throw Lady Gaga or Beyonce in my face, I KNOW, I’ll get to that.) Bitch just danced for four straight minutes like a sexy beast and bitch just did it with a SNAKE ON HER SHOULDERS. Example one that Britney is the queen.

Shakira “Hips Don’t Lie” 2006

I’m fairly certain some people might find this particular performance offensive BUT its Shakira and I think we all know that chica is gonna do what she wants if it involves moving her body in physically impossible ways. Also, how happy does she look to be performing? There is nothing I love more than an artist who looks genuinely excited to be on stage.

NSYNC “This I Promise You/Bye Bye Bye/It’s Gonna Be Me” 2000

Justin’s bleach blonde curls? Check. Lance Bass pretending like he loves girl booty in his crotch? Check. Joey Fatone being “the funny one?” Check. J.C. accepting his fate as “the guy that sings when Justin needs a break”? Chris trying desperately to have us remember he is still a member of the band? Check. Everything we need for just another flawless NSYNC performance. And did you see that crazy choreography with the giant TV screen heads? Shit involves some serious rehearsal time.

Michael Jackson Tribute feat. Janet Jackson 2009

Ok, the little “Smooth Criminal” bit was nice at the beginning. A little all over the place with the dancers but it was nice. But just when you think the sweet little tribute to MJ was over...SHIT. GETS. SO. REAL. I literally screamed and scared my mom when I first saw this when it aired. And I may have just rewatched it five times in a row on youtube...and cried through every time. Janet was never more fierce than in “Scream” and the way they recreated it so she could perform with her brother one last time gave me goose bumps. When she does the choreography with him near the end and then does the signature WOO I collapse into a fit of tears and mourning for when pop music was great.

Lady Gaga “Paparazzi” 2009

Let me preface this by saying I have no idea what the hell happened in this performance. All I know is that it was brilliant. Gaga may go down as one of the best performers of all time. She knows exactly how to get the shock value while still making sure the music isn’t overshadowed. Homegirl can sing and dance and get covered in blood and still look and sound fabulous. I had trouble picking which Gaga performance was my favorite but in the end I had to go with this one. Did you hear the audience start to audibly freak out when she started bleeding. Like they literally thought she’d cut herself somehow and was bleeding out for all the world to see. I wouldn’t put it past Gaga to actually do that...actually, do we know if that was real blood or not? I would not be surprised either way.

ADELE “Someone Like You” 2011

I’m not entirely sure there are even adequate words I could put with this one. Adele could put any of todays pop stars to shame with just a spotlight and a piano and we all know it. Also, y’all know she has like insane stage fright right? THIS is brave, Miley. THIS is fearless. THIS is art. THIS is an adult.

Beyonce “Single Ladies” 2009

Ah, yes. The Queen. Here is a great example of someone that can sing AND dance at the same time which is insanely hard. And Queen Bee doesn’t just dance. She goes hard.

And I don’t even like this song.

Michael Jackson Medley 1995

No. Words. You’re. Welcome.

A confession and a goodbye

I've been living in a world of sloppy writing recently. My notebooks are full of standalone paragraphs that don't belong to a story, crammed in between class notes and grocery lists. I have way too many beginnings and almost no endings. This blog has stopped being something fun, an escape from the rough, real world and become a burden I stress over. I no longer write for myself anymore. I used to open up and bleed word after word, page after page, because they were bursting to escape from my brain that was packed too full of lives I've never lived and worlds that don't exist. I stopped being carefree and loose with my writing and became tight and reserved, typing sentences over and over, choosing bigger words and different metaphors. Now I comb over old posts and cringe at how forced they read. How obvious it is to me that I was grabbing at ideas that I could easily muster up the right words for a easily writeable post. (That sentence doesn't look right but you get the idea. I'm gonna leave it like that and see what happens. CAREFREE!)  I became lazy, scouring the web for ideas and settled for ones that were simple. (Friday Letters is a great idea but its not my idea and that's what makes it lazy.)

In a nutshell, I've lost my drive. Writing is no longer fun and it is no longer an outlet. Instead I now have to find outlets FROM writing. And yes, sometimes that's necessary, especially for those that do it for a living. But I don't...yet. I'm losing my love for what I want to do with my life. I'm not one to do something if I don't want to do it. Most people know that about me. If I lose this love now, I might not find it again.

The title of this blog says it all. I write THINGS. I pick and choose subjects, some that don't even speak to me, and just write things about them. I want to write stories that ramble. I want to write thoughts that are dangerous. I want to touch ideas that I've never even considered before. I want words to flow not gradually ooze as I squeeze the last mediocre drops out of me.

Now, don't get me wrong. There are plenty of posts on here that I am proud of. My posts about my sisters, A Girl Who Writes, I am a Novel, and even my oddball post about zombie nightmares are all bits of writing I am extremely proud of. But I have gradually oozed into a big old ball of blah. And so I have decided to end this blog. I know, I know. Another blog I've given up on. But this one is with good reason. I'm not giving up. I'm merely starting over. I'm not going to start a new blog right away. First, I'm going to finish up this last semester of school. I do want to graduate so I can start living the struggle of being a writer for hire. Also, I have started a project that I think might actually make its way all the way to an ending. Trust me, I am about as shocked as you. Also, if I start another blog I need it to have purpose. I need it to go somewhere and follow a path and right now I don't know what that path is. Maybe I'll start up a fashion blog; maybe I'll start doing crafts? No. Probably not the crafts. But I do know this phase has come to an end. When a new blog arises, you will know. Until then, thank you SO MUCH to everyone that read this one and all those who liked my facebook page. One day when I'm rich and famous, you can all say you knew me when I was a fledgling little writer, lost and as confused as I most likely will be then.

I Am An Introvert

"Do not worry. You have always written before and you will write now. All you have to do is write one true sentence."

My one true sentence: I am an introvert.

I am an introvert. I am a constant introvert. I find my comfort in the quiet corners of rooms. I wrap the curtains of music around me and narrow my searching eyes at a page that will grant me solace from an outside that is too loud and too fast. I cloak myself in words that tell of a world I would not survive in, a world of confrontation and crowds and constant sidekicks. Battle scenes make me tired. I can feel the noise of war in my bones. Dialogue makes me nervous. My hands shake through the small talk. 

My favorite books revolve around those that chose the quiet corners, whether they meant to or not. I took the journey through Sara's attic, a little princess in her lonely rags. I got lost in Mary's secret garden, a quiet corner behind a hidden door. I ran from Voldemort in the woods, reveling in the understanding silence between two haunted wizards. Boo Radley made me jealous, all alone in his old house. I know the perks of being a wallflower. 

But my stories always end. My lonely protagonists discover happy endings but not in great battle or sweeping love affairs. Sara discovers her father in a shadowed corner; Mary builds her garden; Harry saves the word through one solitary sacrifice; and Charlie feels infinite by himself in the back of a truck. And I find myself in my corner, running quiet words through my head, building my energy in humble stories. 

And so I'll change my one true sentence. We are introverts. Not together, but through each other. 

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By Chelsea Poole

big changes

pinch of me

As many of you might have gathered from my whining on Twitter or my recent Instagram pictures, I have recently gone gluten-free. I've spent most of my life dealing with digestive problems that I never even knew were problems. It's amazing what you can learn about yourself when you chat about your daily eating routines with someone. Who knew having a stomach ache after you eat literally anything wasn't a good thing? In the past few years since I jetted off (down the street) to college they have gotten a lot worse. Basically, my GI tract and I haven't been the best of friends for a little while now. And the worst part is I couldn't figure out what in the world was causing it. I tried eliminating dairy. I cut out all spices. I gave up on Chinese food altogether (THAT. was. horrible.) I even said goodbye to green vegetables for awhile. Yeah, that was a bit weird but I was desperate. The only thing that seemed to stick was staying away from fried foods. I bought special yogurts and juices for digestive health. I tried out certain vitamins. It got to the point where I tried to just eat as little as possible. Needless to say, that just made me even more fatigued than I already was and a lot grumpier.

Last spring it was at its worst. I couldn't make it through dinner without having to leave restaurants and rush back home to be sick. Friends and family dealt with a lot of me screaming at them to drive home faster. Dessert was always out of the question. My refrigerator compiled a very large collection of to-go boxes. I definitely didn't drink alcohol and eating became the most dreaded part of my day.

Over the summer, my grandmother got extremely sick. She ended up in four different hospitals. It wasn't until the last one that anyone thought to test her for allergies. She was diagnosed with Celiac Disease, a gluten intolerance that had been slowly building up in her system with no symptoms until late spring of that year. Her symptoms = all the same as mine. Everything began to come together. Gluten was in all my favorite foods. I had sandwiches and/or pasta at least twice a day. Cereal, oatmeal, and granola bar breakfasts gave me reactions in the middle of class. Sandwiches and burgers for lunch got me sick at work. Bread at the beginning of dinner gave me reactions that sent me home early from the restaurants. It made even more sense that it got worse over time. As I cut out all the other foods, I overcompensated by eating more pasta and more bread. No wonder my intestines hated me so much.

Cutting out gluten has been one of the hardest dietary restrictions I've been through. The sole difference between this one and all the others is that this is the only one that works. I've slowly transitioned from cutting back on gluten to completely eliminating it from my life. It's been FAR from easy. I've had to stop eating all my favorite foods. I can't go to many of my favorite restaurants because even gluten-free food is contaminated. Even lightly contaminated food can give me a reaction. Gluten-free specialty food is a tad bit pricey. Alright, a lot bit. Without easy carbs I lack energy throughout the day and my bitchiness has only gotten worse. The worst part is trying to explain to my family why we can't go to their favorite restaurants or telling people that ordering pizza isn't a good option. My saint of a boyfriend goes out of his way to cook gluten-free meals but bears the brunt of my breakdowns, which have been many. If I have an accidental reaction they tend to be worse now that my body is used to not having it.

BUT, I know what the culprit is and I have a plan and that's the best I can ask for. It has come with many tears and empty stomachs and one very sad break up with Noodles & Company. But I have a new best friend in apple butter and a cabinet in the kitchen devoted to my gluten free snacks. Whole Foods is my church and above all, my boyfriend is my hero.

--

By Chelsea Poole

Friday's Letters

Dear Boyfriend, I haven't taken the trash out once since you've been gone. And it's actually not because I'm too lazy. I just don't produce that much garbage, apparently. Ironic. (GET IT? BECAUSE OF THE TRASH THING? BECAUSE. TRASH. WASTE. GET IT?) I've also bought an embarrassing amount of magazines so I can take advantage of reading trash (HAH. TRASH AGAIN.) without you here to heckle me about it. I also finished season 3 of The League and used the ESPN app on the Xbox pretty much every night. (Pssst...these are things a GUY should be admitting to.) I've also had ramen for dinner...five times now? And I've made the mistake of having gluten for lunch pretty much every day which my stomach has not enjoyed. This is what happens when you leave. I'm spiraling downhill real fast. But you come home Sunday. And so help me God if you call me to pick you up from the airport and either Beyonce is on stage or the game is close, you are gonna have to get a cab home or sit on the airport curb. Who travels on Super Bowl Sunday? Who does anything non-football or commercial watching on Super Bowl Sunday? That's like blasphemy. You should feel like trash. (BAH. TRASH.) I am super proud of your awesomness though and all the stupid work you've gotten done. And I've had the BBC and two cute little dogs to keep me company. Dear Wind, WTF dude? Dear Duck, thank you for not peeing in the new apartment while Dad's been gone. I know how you like to pretend like you don't have to follow rules when it's just Mommy around. Which, lets be real, you don't really have to do with those huge ears and those adorable puppy eyes. Dear Rogue, thank you for snuggling under the covers with me last night. You're a great little spoon. Dear Sisters, beautiful singing in your recital. Good job making Mom and Dad cry. And Craven, break a leg at your audition tomorrow! Boston University is gonna be amazed. And if they are not, I will personally destroy them all. Dear Wind, seriously what is wrong with you?


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By: Chelsea Poole

Thankful Friday Letters

Dear winter, oh there you are. I thought maybe you were gonna pass us by this year. You must have gotten lost on the way. Thank you for a great reason to sip on hot tea (with way too much sugar) and watch Downton Abbey, movies, and a hockey game with mi familia. Dear Momma, thank you for rescuing me from the hazardous ice and dumb people on the roads. Dear Boyfriend, thank you for abandoning me for the homeland. If I wasn't incredibly dedicated to my studies I would be right there beside you being super annoying and touristy while you work in England. I am so proud of you for THIS and I can't wait to hear all about it. Dear Duck and Rogue, thank you for being super snuggly today while I pout about Dad being gone and thank you in advance for behaving for me. Dear Friday, thank you for not having any classes for me to go to today. Though it would have been pretty satisfying to get that "class is canceled" email. Dear Friends, thank you for all my birthday wishes! Dear Taylor Swift, your song "22" is not accurate. Not once have I felt like having breakfast at midnight or falling in love with strangers in the past two days. You've got 363 days to redeem yourself, T. Swift. Dear Home Cooked Dinners, it was nice knowing you. See you in ten days when James gets home!

Have a wonderful, wintery weekend! GO PACK!

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What I'm Grateful For This Week

life with fingerprints

I am grateful for puppies that play at my feet. I am grateful for puppies that tear apart foam balls, scattering bits of lime green and bright orange across a new apartment. I am grateful for puppies that are learning to share: toys, treats, sofa time, and mommy and dad's attention. I am grateful for a little black dog that is slowly teaching a dumb, stubby-legged pup to remember that she is the boss. 

I am grateful for a man that makes tea and builds forts and lets me poke him in the face and reminds me not to stomp and changes his voice for me and let me put my wand on his nerd shelf. 

I am grateful for wind that pinches pink into my cheeks and sun that sprinkles itself across still water, dancing upon the surface just for me. I am grateful for leaves that refuse to fall and petals that continue to bloom and a winter that won't make up its mind. I am thankful for snowballs and rain puddles and driving with my windows down. 

I am grateful for red lipstick and wicker baskets and a dog crate that is my saving grace. I am grateful for new washing machines and big porches and empty ashtrays and neighbors that sing at the top of their lungs. I am thankful for books and family dinners and birthdays. 

I am grateful for words. New words. Old words. Words that wrap around me in the dark. Words I can't define. Words next to words next to words next to phrases that make sentences. I am grateful for words on lined paper. I am grateful for the curves of B's and the loops of e's and the way my pen sounds scratching away. 

I am grateful for a goodbye that came from a sloppy lick hello.  I am grateful for a dog with a nub for a tail. I'm grateful for eyes that slowly lost me but still felt the light from my fingertips reaching to get tangled in soft auburn fur. I am grateful for a puppy that hid under the car. I am grateful for a puppy that came home with me in that car and spent eight years growing up with me in that car. I am grateful for a little white dog and a moody, old cat left at home alone. 

I am grateful for bookcases and two stars and a nebula.