Today's news of the sudden death of Brittany Murphy from cardiac arrest is all the more sad and poignant for those of us who grew up knowing and loving her since the Clueless days in 1995.
Though Hollywood has experienced plenty of celebrity deaths recently, this might only be the second time that someone I have personally idolized and whose career I've followed has died within my lifetime. The first was Heath Ledger, which was shocking to me both because he wasn't much older than me and because I'd been a huge fan since the first time he appeared, greasy-haired and brooding, in 10 Things I Hate About You.
It was the first time someone whose posters I had plastered on various dorm room and bedroom walls, whose movies I could recite by heart, had passed away. When I found out, I was in the office of the newspaper I was interning for at the time, staring blankly at the anchor on Newsworld (no, I will NOT call it NN) who was telling me my favorite young heartthrob was dead. How was this possible? He was beautiful, talented, young, rich, famous... did I mention beautiful? It took months for me to stop doing a double-take when I heard people talk about him in the past tense, and seeing The Dark Knight a year later was disturbing, especially since his time spent in character as the Joker was credited as one of the factors in the medication cocktail that led to his accidental overdose. It will never stop being bizarre to me that he is dead -- just this week I saw the first bus-stop posters for The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus, and it gave me a jolt.
Hearing about Brittany Murphy gave me similar feelings, though I can't claim to have spent quite as many hours mooning over pictures of her as I did of Ledger. Almost every girl I know who was born in the 80s practically grew up quoting lines from Clueless. For better or worse, that movie shaped the way we perceived Hollywood, teenagers, dating, and the high school clique system. Though critics would point to its idolization of the rich, white and thin as a horrible influence on young girls, its true fans know that it was tongue-in-cheek and promoted good values in the end. Besides, it's based on Jane Austen's Emma... and nothing based on Austen, however loosely, can ever be just fluff.
My point is that for the first time, my generation is seeing our own personal idols start to pass away in a most disturbingly human way. We weren't old enough to get it when River Phoenix died. I was ten years old when Kurt Cobain committed suicide. Likewise, the people who've been the most affected by the recent passing of Michael Jackson, Farrah Fawcett, Patrick Swayze, are the ones who grew up with them and watching them. If you remember where you were when the Jackson 5's biggest hits came out, or when the Thriller video basically invented MTV, or when every single one of your female classmates and their mothers had the Farrah Flip, those stars were your peers and it's a shock when you realize they are mortal.
Brittany Murphy was only seven years older than me -- I watched her grow up from an awkward 18-year-old playing a comic-relief outsider to a glamorous actress capable of playing the confident independent woman or morbidly complex roles. She was underrated in Hollywood while she was alive, and I am sure her tragic death will bring out oodles of the kind of praise MJ got -- the dubious kind that often rings false.
But today, we -- her oldest fans -- will honour her the best way we know how... by remembering her least-polished but most-loved performance.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Nickelback named band of the decade
.....Really?
Apparently, much to my disgust, "Billboard has released a list of the top music stars of the 2000s based on chart success, and Canada's Nickelback was the top group or duo, ranking No. 7 overall." (according to the Globe and Mail)
The top single artists were Eminem, Usher, Nelly, Beyoncé and Alicia Keys.
SERIOUSLY?
Eminem is a genius in his own messed-up way, and Alicia Keys is beyond talented, I'll give you that much, but I probably wouldn't have put her in the top ten artists of the decade. I guess this just reaffirms why I no longer listen to pop radio, if that list demonstrates what the airwaves have been offering for the last 10 years. Come on, NELLY?
The guy who came out with the song that sounds like a clapping/skipping game I played during recess in Grade Two?
If anyone needs me, I'll be in a corner somewhere, weeping for the musical soul of North America.
Apparently, much to my disgust, "Billboard has released a list of the top music stars of the 2000s based on chart success, and Canada's Nickelback was the top group or duo, ranking No. 7 overall." (according to the Globe and Mail)
The top single artists were Eminem, Usher, Nelly, Beyoncé and Alicia Keys.
SERIOUSLY?
Eminem is a genius in his own messed-up way, and Alicia Keys is beyond talented, I'll give you that much, but I probably wouldn't have put her in the top ten artists of the decade. I guess this just reaffirms why I no longer listen to pop radio, if that list demonstrates what the airwaves have been offering for the last 10 years. Come on, NELLY?
The guy who came out with the song that sounds like a clapping/skipping game I played during recess in Grade Two?
If anyone needs me, I'll be in a corner somewhere, weeping for the musical soul of North America.
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Shout-outs
I've had a bunch of new blogs and websites on my radar lately-- god, I can't even say the word radar anymore without immediately hearing Britney and the correlating gay-dar spin-offs in my head. You see what you're doing to me, Britney??!
ANYWAYS. The radar, yes?
A Canadian girl goes to China, conquers all
A friend of mine is embarking on her second adventure as a teacher in Asia. First in Korea and now in Shanghai, China, Ms. Clare is an unbelievably funny and insightful blogger... when she gets around to it. She's the first to admit that her original Korea blog sort of fell by the wayside after awhile, and anyone who read it back in those days (three years ago? How time flies when other people than myself are traveling the world) is crossing their fingers we'll get to hear more from her now. Nobody else makes a Korean kindergarten classroom seem quite so bewilderingly hilarious.
People who look more like my mother than I do
Another blog begun by one of my brilliant and beautiful cousins. She constantly inspires me and makes me see ordinary life events in new ways, while also reassuring me that I'm never the only one thinking something neurotic and bizarre. As if that weren't enough, she has awesome taste in music, takes incredible photographs with my uncle's old non-digital camera (are cameras called analog when they're not digital, like clocks?), and has her own unique and whimsical style with clothes and everything else that just makes me want to hang out with her all the time, so that I may be cooler by proximity.
Real women eat cheese, enjoy sex and rock their careers
I've posted about doll magazine here before, but it bears repeating since the mag is still new and very much evolving and growing. It was founded and is edited by one of my classmates from journalism school, and since I've only managed to contribute one piece so far, I don't think it's conceited for me to say how awesome it is.
As someone who grew up reading JANE magazine and plotting with my best friend to move to New York and become an indie music, literature, fashion and pro-women columnist, I can't express how excited I am to see young women in my own city and country taking the initiative to create a source of positive and healthy information and entertainment for other young women.
Sadly, JANE folded in 2007; the founder, Jane Pratt of Sassy fame, had left in 2005 after personal tragedy and after that, the mag's quality and vision started to slip. (Witness the choice of Lindsay Lohan as cover girl in a 2005 issue.) Since then, there are few magazines in the US that cater to women who don't want to be told how to look, what to buy, and who to look up to, especially when those marching orders are shaped by an industry driven by corporate profit and invested in women's insecurity and constant need for self-improvement. Some American mags like NYLON and BUST do a better job of valuing real women for the amazing creatures that we are, but there's nothing similar in Canada -- nothing mainstream, anyway. And unto the breach comes a new doll.
Who says you can't love where you live AND what you do?
I love taking photos. Since I was about 15, I've been known as the paparazzi among my friends -- aka, the annoying one who's always making them smile and get together, when all they're trying to do is be drunk and belligerent in peace. Thanks to my digital camera, most of the pictures I take turn out relatively well. But it's nothing compared to Chris Levesque's photos.
Chris is one of my oldest friends, and a multi-talented one. He makes films, he takes gorgeous photos, he snowboards. Right now he's living the life in Whistler, BC, doing all three and probably a lot more. (I've heard rumours of hot tubs and trampolines, and I'm really hoping they don't get used together, especially when the apres-mountain booze is flowing.)
In any case, check out the portrait section of his site for some amazing photos. And if you happen to be in Whistler this season, look for the dude in the yellow coat taking pics on the mountain and tell him I say hi.
The Twitterati
Some of my recent follows:
@jaredleto -- yes it's really him, and yes he talks about his band 30 Seconds to Mars a lot.
@blogTO -- good for finding out what's going on in the city, what people are talking about, etc.
@bradTTC -- the communications manager for the TTC. His level of engagement with the Toronto Twitterverse is pretty impressive, even if their service isn't. Hope it turns out to be a useful way for him to gather feedback from the public.
@HalfPintIngalls -- someone impersonating author Laura Ingalls Wilder of "Little House on the Prairie" fame. It is painfully funny, especially if you've read the books and/or used to watch the TV version and get the finer points of the jokes. I hope the author posts links to any other writing s/he does, because they're damn good.
@therealzooeyd -- as in Deschanel. I found her feed after seeing "500 Days of Summer" and falling in love with the soundtrack, including and especially Zooey's recordings with M. Ward under the band name She & Him. So pretty.
Obligatory shout-out to all our RTP offices with Twitter feeds: @RightToPlayNL, @RightToPlayUSA, @RightToPlayCAN and @RightToPlay_UK, and to our intrepid CEO @JohannKoss.
@theteganandsara -- no explanation necessary, they freaking rule.
@shitmydadsays -- if you haven't heard of this guy or read his stuff yet, go now. Do not pass GO, do not collect $200, just do it now.
ANYWAYS. The radar, yes?
A Canadian girl goes to China, conquers all
A friend of mine is embarking on her second adventure as a teacher in Asia. First in Korea and now in Shanghai, China, Ms. Clare is an unbelievably funny and insightful blogger... when she gets around to it. She's the first to admit that her original Korea blog sort of fell by the wayside after awhile, and anyone who read it back in those days (three years ago? How time flies when other people than myself are traveling the world) is crossing their fingers we'll get to hear more from her now. Nobody else makes a Korean kindergarten classroom seem quite so bewilderingly hilarious.
People who look more like my mother than I do
Another blog begun by one of my brilliant and beautiful cousins. She constantly inspires me and makes me see ordinary life events in new ways, while also reassuring me that I'm never the only one thinking something neurotic and bizarre. As if that weren't enough, she has awesome taste in music, takes incredible photographs with my uncle's old non-digital camera (are cameras called analog when they're not digital, like clocks?), and has her own unique and whimsical style with clothes and everything else that just makes me want to hang out with her all the time, so that I may be cooler by proximity.
Real women eat cheese, enjoy sex and rock their careers
I've posted about doll magazine here before, but it bears repeating since the mag is still new and very much evolving and growing. It was founded and is edited by one of my classmates from journalism school, and since I've only managed to contribute one piece so far, I don't think it's conceited for me to say how awesome it is.
As someone who grew up reading JANE magazine and plotting with my best friend to move to New York and become an indie music, literature, fashion and pro-women columnist, I can't express how excited I am to see young women in my own city and country taking the initiative to create a source of positive and healthy information and entertainment for other young women.
Sadly, JANE folded in 2007; the founder, Jane Pratt of Sassy fame, had left in 2005 after personal tragedy and after that, the mag's quality and vision started to slip. (Witness the choice of Lindsay Lohan as cover girl in a 2005 issue.) Since then, there are few magazines in the US that cater to women who don't want to be told how to look, what to buy, and who to look up to, especially when those marching orders are shaped by an industry driven by corporate profit and invested in women's insecurity and constant need for self-improvement. Some American mags like NYLON and BUST do a better job of valuing real women for the amazing creatures that we are, but there's nothing similar in Canada -- nothing mainstream, anyway. And unto the breach comes a new doll.
Who says you can't love where you live AND what you do?
I love taking photos. Since I was about 15, I've been known as the paparazzi among my friends -- aka, the annoying one who's always making them smile and get together, when all they're trying to do is be drunk and belligerent in peace. Thanks to my digital camera, most of the pictures I take turn out relatively well. But it's nothing compared to Chris Levesque's photos.
Chris is one of my oldest friends, and a multi-talented one. He makes films, he takes gorgeous photos, he snowboards. Right now he's living the life in Whistler, BC, doing all three and probably a lot more. (I've heard rumours of hot tubs and trampolines, and I'm really hoping they don't get used together, especially when the apres-mountain booze is flowing.)
In any case, check out the portrait section of his site for some amazing photos. And if you happen to be in Whistler this season, look for the dude in the yellow coat taking pics on the mountain and tell him I say hi.
The Twitterati
Some of my recent follows:
@jaredleto -- yes it's really him, and yes he talks about his band 30 Seconds to Mars a lot.
@blogTO -- good for finding out what's going on in the city, what people are talking about, etc.
@bradTTC -- the communications manager for the TTC. His level of engagement with the Toronto Twitterverse is pretty impressive, even if their service isn't. Hope it turns out to be a useful way for him to gather feedback from the public.
@HalfPintIngalls -- someone impersonating author Laura Ingalls Wilder of "Little House on the Prairie" fame. It is painfully funny, especially if you've read the books and/or used to watch the TV version and get the finer points of the jokes. I hope the author posts links to any other writing s/he does, because they're damn good.
@therealzooeyd -- as in Deschanel. I found her feed after seeing "500 Days of Summer" and falling in love with the soundtrack, including and especially Zooey's recordings with M. Ward under the band name She & Him. So pretty.
Obligatory shout-out to all our RTP offices with Twitter feeds: @RightToPlayNL, @RightToPlayUSA, @RightToPlayCAN and @RightToPlay_UK, and to our intrepid CEO @JohannKoss.
@theteganandsara -- no explanation necessary, they freaking rule.
@shitmydadsays -- if you haven't heard of this guy or read his stuff yet, go now. Do not pass GO, do not collect $200, just do it now.
Monday, December 7, 2009
Click here for Chapter Two
Tonight, my mom asked me what I think about the Kindle. Specifically, she wondered whether a device like this would ever be as satisfying as reading from a book with real paper pages and binding.
Well... being the former English Lit major and card-carrying Chapters-Indigo member that I am, I'm sure anyone would expect my response to be along the lines of Hell, no. And it was, more or less.
I personally would really miss the feel of a book in my hands, and the look of the printed words. I guess I'm old-school when it comes to thinking that half the joy of reading is the experience of it -- the texture of the paper, the look of the cover, the font, the way the chapters are laid out and how page breaks can impact the way you interpret a story....
I could go on.
But this is a subject of MASSIVE debate and controversy and nerdy agonizing among the literati and wannabes. And I recognize that there are all levels of literacy out there, all levels of interest in reading, period, and -- shocking thought! -- there MAY, just possibly, be people who actually do not enjoy looking at stacks and stacks of books around their homes? I mean, I certainly can't picture anyone like that, and frankly wouldn't want to associate with them, but I will allow the possibility of their existence.
The Kindle, and its conceptual friend the e-book, might do for reading what mp3 players have done for music -- that is, make it more portable and shareable, if not more accessible financially. If this technology allows people to read more often, and entices people who normally wouldn't pick up a real book to read at all, then it's a good thing. There's still a large chunk of the population who wouldn't read a newspaper on the subway, let alone hold a large flat piece of metal in front of their faces while balancing a purse / messenger bag and trying not to get flung bodily into the people around them.
To the people who point to the Kindle as an example of the print industry being on its way out, I scoff and point to Indigo's quarterly profit reports and the insane success of Oprah's book club (though I do have my own snobbish opinions about some of her picks, and the way the "masses" tend to follow her recommendations with zero thought or discernment of their own -- but there again, isn't it better that people are reading at all?)... No matter what happens with newspapers and magazines, I have no doubt that paper books are going strong.
But somehow I doubt I'm the Kindle's target audience anyway. Someone who is the proud proprietor of two 6-foot-tall bookshelves packed full, not to mention an obsessive "reading list" that has reached almost 700 titles, is not the person Amazon is trying to reel in.
The iPod, however, not only reeled me in but bought my soul and sold me several albums on iTunes as well. I've bought fewer than five albums on actual CDs in the last six or seven years, and I own nothing on vinyl. I guess my snobbery of authentic experiences only extends so far -- nobody can call me a hipster yet.
Thank God.
Well... being the former English Lit major and card-carrying Chapters-Indigo member that I am, I'm sure anyone would expect my response to be along the lines of Hell, no. And it was, more or less.
I personally would really miss the feel of a book in my hands, and the look of the printed words. I guess I'm old-school when it comes to thinking that half the joy of reading is the experience of it -- the texture of the paper, the look of the cover, the font, the way the chapters are laid out and how page breaks can impact the way you interpret a story....
I could go on.
But this is a subject of MASSIVE debate and controversy and nerdy agonizing among the literati and wannabes. And I recognize that there are all levels of literacy out there, all levels of interest in reading, period, and -- shocking thought! -- there MAY, just possibly, be people who actually do not enjoy looking at stacks and stacks of books around their homes? I mean, I certainly can't picture anyone like that, and frankly wouldn't want to associate with them, but I will allow the possibility of their existence.
The Kindle, and its conceptual friend the e-book, might do for reading what mp3 players have done for music -- that is, make it more portable and shareable, if not more accessible financially. If this technology allows people to read more often, and entices people who normally wouldn't pick up a real book to read at all, then it's a good thing. There's still a large chunk of the population who wouldn't read a newspaper on the subway, let alone hold a large flat piece of metal in front of their faces while balancing a purse / messenger bag and trying not to get flung bodily into the people around them.
To the people who point to the Kindle as an example of the print industry being on its way out, I scoff and point to Indigo's quarterly profit reports and the insane success of Oprah's book club (though I do have my own snobbish opinions about some of her picks, and the way the "masses" tend to follow her recommendations with zero thought or discernment of their own -- but there again, isn't it better that people are reading at all?)... No matter what happens with newspapers and magazines, I have no doubt that paper books are going strong.
But somehow I doubt I'm the Kindle's target audience anyway. Someone who is the proud proprietor of two 6-foot-tall bookshelves packed full, not to mention an obsessive "reading list" that has reached almost 700 titles, is not the person Amazon is trying to reel in.
The iPod, however, not only reeled me in but bought my soul and sold me several albums on iTunes as well. I've bought fewer than five albums on actual CDs in the last six or seven years, and I own nothing on vinyl. I guess my snobbery of authentic experiences only extends so far -- nobody can call me a hipster yet.
Thank God.
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Several Good Things
I'm channeling The Martha today with my domesticity.
Which is surprising, since I am usually totally useless around the house when I'm this tired. For whatever reason, I haven't slept well for two nights in a row. Possible Reasons: my stomp-happy new upstairs neighbour? Withdrawal from the white noise that was once provided by my air conditioner, forcibly wrenched out of my life and into basement storage by building management (this is a matter to be dealt with in another post, not to mention copious bitching to co-workers, friends, and strangers on the subway)?
For the first time in several days, I can safely say I was not kept awake by mind-numbing circular stress-thoughts about work projects, or financial planning, or the other Usual Suspects that tend to drag me up out of sleep and into a wide-eyed, tensed-up stress coma.
So whatever it was that kept me from sleeping well, I woke up peaceful this morning. After spending Friday night with my girlfriends, strutting around our university town wearing matching short dresses and matching sassy attitudes (Sassitudes?), and spending Saturday evening having dinner with family, I was feeling good today. Far enough removed from the chaotic, barely-controlled organization that is my work week, to be able to think about doing something at home other than burrowing into quilts and pillows and hiding my brain inside a book. Most weekends I don't feel like I get enough head space to be able to contemplate things like doing laundry, re-organizing shelves, taking a walk, cooking real food. I get panicky at the thought of the precious minutes slipping away too quickly towards Monday morning, and I try to hang on to my Me Time so hard that I end up doing nothing.
Happily, today was different. Granted, I didn't leave the house, but I felt good being here. I contemplated certain aspects of the redecoration that is constantly going on inside my head, and which is slowly becoming reality in my apartment. My aunt and uncle (henceforth to be known as Martha's Glorious Elves) brought over a set of perfect white dishes for me, which they no longer need since they've been given a fancier set. It propelled me into a frenzy of dish-washing, cupboard-organizing, dinner-cooking domesticity that hasn't been seen around here since my last birthday party. It struck me, not for the first time, how wrong it is that I tend to clean only when other people are coming over, and not just for myself... especially since I really love my apartment and the way the afternoon light falls in on my table and chairs, my bookshelves (pride and joy), my picture frames -- all these things which I picked out myself and have arranged in a way that pleases me. I should make more of an effort to keep things tidy enough that I remember why I love hanging out here, and not just because I'm hiding from real life.
Tomorrow morning I will blow-dry my hair and put on mildly uncomfortable clothing and slap a determined look on my face and head deeper into the forest of city office buildings that make up my nine-to-five life. But for now, I'm wearing my grey Henley and a ponytail, the Christmas twinkly lights are on above the window, and there are art-canvas pictures waiting to be put up on the wall.
Which is surprising, since I am usually totally useless around the house when I'm this tired. For whatever reason, I haven't slept well for two nights in a row. Possible Reasons: my stomp-happy new upstairs neighbour? Withdrawal from the white noise that was once provided by my air conditioner, forcibly wrenched out of my life and into basement storage by building management (this is a matter to be dealt with in another post, not to mention copious bitching to co-workers, friends, and strangers on the subway)?
For the first time in several days, I can safely say I was not kept awake by mind-numbing circular stress-thoughts about work projects, or financial planning, or the other Usual Suspects that tend to drag me up out of sleep and into a wide-eyed, tensed-up stress coma.
So whatever it was that kept me from sleeping well, I woke up peaceful this morning. After spending Friday night with my girlfriends, strutting around our university town wearing matching short dresses and matching sassy attitudes (Sassitudes?), and spending Saturday evening having dinner with family, I was feeling good today. Far enough removed from the chaotic, barely-controlled organization that is my work week, to be able to think about doing something at home other than burrowing into quilts and pillows and hiding my brain inside a book. Most weekends I don't feel like I get enough head space to be able to contemplate things like doing laundry, re-organizing shelves, taking a walk, cooking real food. I get panicky at the thought of the precious minutes slipping away too quickly towards Monday morning, and I try to hang on to my Me Time so hard that I end up doing nothing.
Happily, today was different. Granted, I didn't leave the house, but I felt good being here. I contemplated certain aspects of the redecoration that is constantly going on inside my head, and which is slowly becoming reality in my apartment. My aunt and uncle (henceforth to be known as Martha's Glorious Elves) brought over a set of perfect white dishes for me, which they no longer need since they've been given a fancier set. It propelled me into a frenzy of dish-washing, cupboard-organizing, dinner-cooking domesticity that hasn't been seen around here since my last birthday party. It struck me, not for the first time, how wrong it is that I tend to clean only when other people are coming over, and not just for myself... especially since I really love my apartment and the way the afternoon light falls in on my table and chairs, my bookshelves (pride and joy), my picture frames -- all these things which I picked out myself and have arranged in a way that pleases me. I should make more of an effort to keep things tidy enough that I remember why I love hanging out here, and not just because I'm hiding from real life.
Tomorrow morning I will blow-dry my hair and put on mildly uncomfortable clothing and slap a determined look on my face and head deeper into the forest of city office buildings that make up my nine-to-five life. But for now, I'm wearing my grey Henley and a ponytail, the Christmas twinkly lights are on above the window, and there are art-canvas pictures waiting to be put up on the wall.
Friday, December 4, 2009
An Error of Mass Proportions
I got on my scale this morning, and it said "ERROR".
That can't be good.
That can't be good.
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