We Dance to the Beat (And We Don't Stop): Robyn at the Paramount

Before we begin, a brief public service announcement:



If you have seen this girl, please tell her the concert is over. She may now stop forcing her body parts on the backs of people. Help her find her way home.

That's all, thank you. Moving on...

My sister, who is a solid gold platinum titanium Robyn fan was not going to miss this show. She already missed her chance at Robyn playing Neumos last year so this was it. We happy hour-ed at Palominos to build and save our foot energy for what we were expecting to be a crazy night...

Which started in line outside the Paramount Theatre on a chilly Thursday in October, no rain, thankfully. We saw all sorts of Robyn-like platinum hair, a lot of tank tops and gooseflesh, sequins, feather vests, extremely good-looking gay men, usually with their equally attractive boyfriends, parents with minor children trying to buy tickets off of others - Daddy, Daddy you better find me a ticket!!! YOU BETTER FIND ME A TICKET OR I'M GOING TO RUN IN FRONT OF A CAR. And the random suspicious-looking person carrying a big backpack.



This is when everything moves in slow motion. Time check: 6:00pm. One hour till doors open. Contemplate work outfit for following day. Debate peeing at Paramount Hotel or Barnes & Noble. Eavesdrop on girl and boy behind you talking about reversible jacket design and halloween costumes. Time check: 6:04pm.

I will spare you the boring details about our wait, except the bit where I chickened out of using the restroom at the Paramount Hotel because I so obviously looked like I just walked in off the street and wasn't a guest. I ended up at Barnes instead.

Doors open, we head to the floor, where security people tell everyone to stay off the carpeted aisle and please sit on the floor. By the way, I've never seen such chatty, smiley security staff. They were talking to us! Weird. And we know how this part goes: more waiting. We don't really want to know about the Swedish girl behind us who went to a psychic and told her her sometime love interest will have a series of short relationships, but we had no choice.

Finally. Finally lights dim. The opener, Yacht comes out. More crazy. They had these dancers, one portly boy wearing a shirt that says Girl, and one blond girl wearing a Boy shirt. I am waiting for the opportunity to steal some of Girl's moves. They were brilliant. The band was a lot of fun, they sounded like a group you'd hear in Saturday Night Live's Deep House Dish. They also had the funniest line which they kept repeating between songs, If you have any questions, any questions at all...

So, Yacht got the crowd dancing and everyone's pumped up, and their set ends, and we're back to waiting for Robyn. But not for long. Her band comes out. The music starts and there she is!!! Bowl cut, glow-in-the-dark leggings, mega flatforms, my-belt-is-killing-me, and all!



ZOMG. Robyn was fantastic. Even the crazy girl who tried to hump every single one of us on the second and first rows to get to the rail couldn't put a damper on our evening. Thanks, by the way, to the cute gay couple who told her, you need to stay where you're at. Except, all they got in response was a glazed look from the Robyn-crazed crazy ass lipstick girl. The best part was when she just gave up her humping and left. Hey lipstick girl, U SHOULD KNOW BETTER not to fuck with the fans who waited in line before you!

Robyn was just an energizer bunny. It must have been the banana she ate while doing a back bend onstage! All those dance moves, the spinning, the chest pumps, the grinding, and gorilla arms. She was everything! And the crowd was with her all the way - fist pumping Indestructible's this is hardcore, screaming every word to Call your Girlfriend, body rolling along to None of Dem, waving our arms to Dancing Queen/Show Me Love.



Everyone was singing along. Who cares if you were singing Hang With Me's lyrics wrong? So what if it was, just don't fall headlessly, recklessly in love with me, and not stone cold, helplessly, recklessly... No one! No one cares! Sing whatever you want! No one cares, right? I mean, my lips were still forming kind of similar words, right?

It was an amazing concert. Robyn was an amazing performer. Someone get a DeLorean and let's do it again!



All photos by IP

Las Vegas Style Guide: Classy Stripper Edition

Hello Classy Ladies! After a trip to Vegas with my fellow bridesmaids/cousins and our bride, I have returned with a few tips and tricks to looking faboosh on your Vegas trip.

The Way There

Let's start with your inflight outfit. Thizzizit, right?!?!? WRONG. Your flight is your last chance to be a semi-slob and relax your stomach muscles before the trip proper. You know you'll be sucking your gut in for all your one-size-too-small dresses. So heed my advice: keep it loose. And as for what might have been the look of judgment from the flight attendant when you and your girls ordered a cocktail on your 8am flight? Let it go, they don't care. They've seen worse.

Slide-Proof Legwear

As you usher the bride to Excalibur, home of Thunder Down Under, after she specifically said: NO MALE DANCERS, keep it cool. Keep her cool. Because you're not going to see any Thundering from Down Undering this afternoon. You are actually going to Night School 4 Girls. Cue the music! Let's hear a little Pour Some Sugar On Me!

A few things: if you want to be challenged, go ahead and wear your lucite heels at the burlesque/pole dancing class. Shorts might be a good idea. The flesh on your thighs will help grip the pole. Now there are two approaches here. A. Go ahead and laugh, embarrass yourself, get goofy. B. This is serious. I'm in competition. I don't care if anyone thinks I'm an actual stripper. Yes. I am talking to you, girl in the vest and shorts. What have you been doing in your free time and did you say you have another job on the side?

Walk It Or Cab It, Your Choice

If you are walking it, your choice was wrong. Your hotel looked near, but it wasn't. Now, if you've already committed to walking, after buying your pre-funk alcohol and snacks, I hope you are wearing something pretty. Now is the time to be adventurous. That thing that calls itself a romper? Now is the time to try it on. A strapless little something? Do it. Nude and a pair of Toms? Go for it! Who cares? No one, because everyone is already looking at the umm, older woman in a bathing suit top with her c-section scar hanging out.

I say keep it pretty because you never know when a club promoter will come your way (shout-out to Chad, aka Brad, aka Zach). He will put you on the guest list, get you in quick, and get you free drinks. It seems dubious but it's legit. I mean, just as long as the guy doesn't say, yo ladies, Imma get you on the guest list to the hottest club in town: Kidnappinz and Murderz Lounge.



Dinner is Served

Oy, slowpokes, everything may be open late in Vegas but most restaurant kitchens still close at 11pm. Hypothetical situation: you and the girls lost track of time thanks to endless drinks (from your pre-funk Walgreens/CVS liquor run), spinach dip, chips, pretzels, penis candies (whaaat), panty gift-giving, and all sorts of activities at your swanky suite. It's 10:30pm and you've all just finished getting dressed/made/prettied up and no restaurant will take you in.

So what?!? There's a place at your hotel that's still open, surely the servers will appreciate your fancy duds. And if it's 1am and you just finished dinner? No big deal. Go back to your suite, set down your take-home boxes. Rest your eyeballs for a second. Or two. Or, ah, don't wake up till morning... So, um, yeah, umm if that happens, you know, just in case, just sayin', no one says it actually happened, this is not real, I'm making it up.

Battle Buffet
Two words: Elastic waistband. Two more words: Chunky jewelry... Four Words: Distracts from big belly. Four More Words: Go for the proteins. Six Words: Fear not, take a mid-buffet dump.

Poolside

Aside from your swimsuit, don't forget to bring a roomy canvas bag. Your bag is your best friend. How else are you going to go on the cheap and bring your own cocktails to the pool. I mean, there's a reason why the pool check-in guy has a stack of platic cups at his station.

To the Club

For your night out, again this is the time to be adventurous. Go for something outrageous. It's your chance to let loose and not be seen by people from where you live. Or, go for the Vegas norm of tight-and-short. Or keep it classy in a revealing yet tailored look. What you shouldn't do is recycle a bridesmaid's dress. Lady, hey lady, come on?! I can tell. Black and white. Floral applique. Knee-length. You're not fooling anyone.

Well, that about wraps up this Style Guide. Toodles, Classy Ladies! Stay fabulous!

Face Parts

So, my sister turns to me this morning and mouths pimple, pim-mple, pimPOL, PEEMpoool, pmpl, PMPOWL. I think my pimple actually blushed. And guess where it was? To the right of the tip of my nose. Like a little fairy dancing on her tippy toes, spreading sebum on my face. You should have seen it before it popped its ugly head out. It almost looked like a tumor. Oh well, what do I know? This whole time my pimple could have been telling itself: shit, what's this face growing on me? Dancing like a giant, spreading face parts on my skin. Eew.



I just celebrated my birthday a week ago. My sister tricked me. She was really good, too. We agreed to meet after I got off work. She told me she was looking for jeans. She actually tried stuff out at varius stores. Except, guess who lost in this little 'shopping' pretense? ME. I ended up buying something (or some things, my memory is foggy on the details). And then she goes, I have a Groupon that expires. TODAY. For happy hour.

So we head to the fabulous, and great-smelling Alexis Hotel for their Bookstore Lounge where, upon entering, the first thing I see is what looks like my cousin's hair. Trust me it's hard to miss, she likes experimenting with Big & Sexy hairspray. And in my mind I was thinking, wow, that was one popular Groupon. So surprise! They were there to take me out for an early birthday celebration.

In random order, the evening's events were: get rained on and have puddles form in our shoes, beer and birthday cupcakes, arcade games, a Moroccan dinner, witness an over-excited adolescent belly dance, catch the end of the Mayweather/ Ortiz fight, lose at billiards, attempt belly dancing (belly? yes. dancing? nooo).

On my real birthday, I had the day off and it was just as nice. 6am Birthday phone call from my sister and nephew from back home. And a call from my best friend, whose rendition of Marilyn Monroe's Happy Birthday did not reach its completion.

I think she got as far as the first to you before we both burst out laughing.

P.S. She just had her birthday too!

Flamingo Orange Juice Retirement Sunshine Part 2

All right, where were we? Aah, after Key West. Day 4. By the way, as I type this, I am letting my violet/pinkish nail color dry. My right middle finger has been giving me grief. I've started over on it twice! I'm not entirely free of blame as I may have nicked as I, err, took a nap.

Back to Day 4. As I recall it was a Tuesday. This day was a blur of laying out in the sun, sipping bottles of Presidente that had a great gift for turning warm within minutes of being taken out of the fridge. It got so hot that we ended up migrating to the pool. Can I just say that I absolutely loved the warm ocean water and pool water? You know how in most places you get sweaty from laying out so you jump in the water but then you get chills from the water's temperature? That did not happen here. Except for one occasion when it was borderline stormy.

We grilled some pork and chicken for dinner that night. I could tell our next-door neighbors must have been just a tiny bit jealous, as our meat was basted in a garlicky, vinegary, soy saucy, lemony concotion of sorts. One gal walked back and forth by the grill for no reason at all. I mean, at least bring some props - a piece of trash maybe, to pretend to throw in the garbage can, or a lump of coal to put in the little bin, or a piece of raw meat with a little, pardon me, I wish to grill this morsel for my pet!



The next day, there was more laying out in store for us. And then we headed to South Beach. It's exactly like in South Beach movie scenes - people walking around barely dressed, Tony Montana and Manny Ribera trying to pick up girls. Just kidding about Scarface. We went into an Art Deco store where I wish I could have taken pictures of a Joan Crawford paper doll book! OMG, Joan Crawford as a silent movie star, Joan Crawford in period films, Joan Crawford when she had a make-over of sorts, Joan Crawford lifting a silver dish cover to reveal that Baby Jane served a rat for DINDIN!!!



So we walked down Ocean Drive where we spotted Gianni Versace's former home that was now a hotel/ restaurant. And, where the restaurant managers/hosts/hostesses were ruthless in trying to get you to do their happy hour. I mean, they will wave their menus in your face and try to not-so-stealthily usher you into their business. We ended up happy hour-ing at an Italian place... with a flamenco dancer. Go figure. The dancer and the musicians were fantastic. Their deal was buy one get one of their tub-sized drinks to share. I mean, the mojito looked like a kid's ecosystem fish bowl project and their pina colada looked like a body builder's protein shake at 7am.

We ended the night at this place called Bayside. It's like an outdoor/indoor bazaar/performance place. No actually, my sister and I ended the night with a glass of milk and those strangely delicious cookies from the plane ride over, and Jurassic Park 3. No, actually I ended the night on my side trying to fall asleep but wanting to get the AC on a cooler setting but was too lazy to get up.

Thursday was when Hurricane Irene swished by Florida. That was a close call. We got a full day of rain and scary waves but that was all. You know what that means, right? Laundry day. Except a bunch of other people were thinking the same thing. We got first dibs, though. Aside from laundry we also got to know Tabatha, Patti Stanger, the Kardashians, and Benjamin Button via the TV. Look, when you are on vacation, your brain must also go on vacation, which is why it was perfectly all right to watch said reality shows.

On Friday, big waves aside, the weather turned for the better. It was back to the beach and the pool. Now, a note about resort pools. All of y'all just met each other, why are you telling her that your husband has sleep apnea and uses a CPAP machine. And why are you telling him that you and your spouse sleep in separate bedrooms. It was like I was watching An Hour with Strangers: Your Secrets are Safe with Me.

On our last night in Florida, we had dinner at my Dad's good friend's house. His super cute, squirmy, toddler grandson was there. There was a lot of eating, a lot of talk about skincare, dieting, our adventures when were new immigrants, as well as an episode of Karaoke Battle USA.

And then it was time to go. It's always sad when the trip ends. I mean, there's no bigger 'end' signal than having to check in for your return flight and print your boarding pass.

Saturday went by quickly. We had the required picture-taking session at the resort, with my Mom waving the camera screen at our faces saying, this picture looks good because I TOOK IT. Then we headed to a Japanese buffet where we filled our bellies up because who wants to get desperately hungry at the airport where your choices are expensive cardboard, bargain grease, and pricey pellets?

Then let's just skip the airport and plane ride home and just flash forward to me with my peeling skin and my brain that is still on vacation because God help me, I'm still watching Keeping Up With the Kardashians!?!?!?!

Flamingo Orange Juice Retirement Sunshine Part I

A week ago I was with my family enjoying our last day at Lauderdale-by-the-Sea. We were sitting on our resort-provided beach chairs under our beach umbrellas (also resort-provided). And as the wind blew our hair, and the waves crashed and the foaming water reached our... asses which were hanging extra low on our chairs because duh it's vacation and everyone knows that part of your brain that says you're full is automatically turned off for the duration of your vacation.

I want to go back. On my first week back at work, I swear I could feel my body coming down with a fever. My bones were saying, you bitch, take me back to the sand and sea and no shoes on my feets!!!

One day of pouring rain (courtesy of Hurricane Irene which we narrowly missed) and possible-evacuation aside, it was a most wonderful week. And as vacations often go, it started with an unavoidable plane ride.

Aaah. Here we are again, where cabin pressure yields all sorts of weird behavior such as -

Spilling your secrets to your seat mate.

Wanting to throttle the flight attendant on your little screen wagging her finger as she says smoking is nooot allowed on this flight. Shut up!

Using the aisle as your gym. Come on! Can't you rest your stupid biceps and quads for a few hours? You are blocking the snack/ drink cart! Sit down!

Using the headrest in front of you as a support to stand up. Said headrest consequently becomes a catapult for the head that was resting on it.

And many more (feel free to insert observed behavior here ________)!

But let's move on. Touchdown in Fort Lauderdale had us removing our Seattle clothing layers. I mean, I started to feel the heat just from walking on the jetway from the plane to the arrival gate. I thought nothing could rival my home country's tropical heat where simply thinking of dressing up makes me sweat, but Florida was hot. I could feel my hair expanding into a wedge-shaped horror.



First on the agenda: buying food supplies for our week-long stay. Thanks to my Dad's old friend, we had a ride straight to the Asian store. We also had the most delish, Filipino-style taho, sold by a wise old Chinese man who gave us the stink-eye and a ferocious WE DON'T HAVE NAPKINS HERE when we asked for spoons and napkins and ignored his sign of No Eat-In.

After a take-out lunch of roast pork, barbecued pork, and roast duck plus rice combo, it was straight to the Windjammer Resort. And pardonnez-moi-gut-hanging-from-le-bikini, but the beach cannot wait.



ZOMG. It was glorious! There was just the right amount of breeze to have me and my sister drifting in and out of a light sleep. There were a few kids but they were amazingly well-behaved and any shouting was drowned out by the sound of waves.

And suddenly it was time to get ready for dinner. After driving past a couple of strip malls, we decided on a casual dinner at the Red Lobster. Except... except the diners looked like they were dressed for a swankier place. Let's just get this out of the way, they like their clothes snug in Florida. No pardonnez-moi-rolls-spilling-out-of-le-tube-top for them. The label on that dress that says size 0? Who cares? If it zips, it fits. They just own it! And frankly - danger of eye disease aside - I love that confidence.

After dinner we headed to Hard Rock, um, I don't know how to describe it. It had a parking lot as big as an airport. It had several restaurants and clubs and shops and a sprawling casino. What is it? Is it a city in a building? Why are there so many people? What is that woman wearing? Is that a mask, or is it someone's enhanced face?! Why are the stores still open when it's almost midnight? Is this hell? Am I in hell already?!? I'm sorry okay! For all my sins!

And that's how Day 1 ended. Day 2 was a lazy Sunday - Mass, brunch, more laying out on the beach. Pre-Snack. Snacks. Swimming Pool. Pre-Dinner. Beach. Dinner. Second Dinner.

Day 3 was a trip to Key West. What a charming old town, where one is free from the trappings of consumerism... Until you walk to the corner Banana Republic, flanked by Express, across the street from Hard Rock Cafe, a few steps from a nice view of the hulking, docked cruise ship. Just kidding (but not really). It's actually a beautiful place. All those old houses with wrap-around decks and louvered windows. Oh and we were at Conch Republic having lunch when the skies opened up and it poured. Really poured. And then it was as if nothing happened. Moments later it was skin-burning hot once again - a special Florida talent.

The end of Day 3 had us rolling out of the car that night, hungry and rumpled from the long trip but ready for Day 4.

[In a movie-trailer-voice over] Coming up: Sand. Warm beer. Waves. Sand in your butt crack. Miami. Miami Beach. Stay tuned.

Can You Hear Me Chewing?

So this post concludes the 30 Day Film Challenge. To be honest it made me question how I watch films. Do I really watch them? Do I just watch just to be able to say, okay, I've seen that one time to check it off my list? Am I suffering from partial memory loss because I cannot remember some of the other movies I know meant a lot to me in the past? When I eat chips at a movie theatre is my chewing really that loud? Are most movie theatres required to keep their floors slightly sticky? Why do parents bring babies inside the theatre?

White Lies break!!!



Day 24 Favorite Animated/ Children's Film

Beauty and the Beast. I too conversed with various pieces of furniture as a child. We once had a dinner party. The jello mold hosted.

Day 25 Favorite Documentary

I recently watched Which Way Home. It was very powerful.

Day 26 Favorite Foreign Film(s)

All About My Mother and Volver

Day 27 Favorite Independent Film

Brick made quite an impression on me. And that soundtrack was beautiful.

Day 28 Most Obscure

If by obscure you mean not many people saw it, maybe, Carnival of Souls, the 1962 version. But if by obscure you mean just mysterious or weird, then Eraserhead wins.

Day 29 Favorite Film as a Kid

The Goonies. I vaguely remember a reenactment with friends.

Day 30 Favorite Film This Time Last Year

Inception.

Bleak Squawk

And that was exactly what I told my wayward laptop when it had the audacity to get infected by a virus!!! I was doing my thing one afternoon. And by thing, I mean working. And by working I mean checking myhabit for any $10 deals. Just kidding. But really, I forget which site I was in. I vaguely recall trying to find better pictures so I can see some celebrity's outfit better. A pop-up opens. Threat detected, move to virus vault. Next thing I know anything.exe won't open.

So I started feeling cold sweat all through my body. I began searching for fixes on tech forums but I couldn't even get past the first 3 steps. Cue even more cold sweat, add a dash of tears starting to pool in the corner of my eyes, why not throw in a little shit-my-pants vibe. Long story short, I had to take it in to a place that rhymes with Bleak Squawk, or Cheek Guackd, or Eeek Buaqd, or Ahg;kjahdglrdsd where let's just say... Actually I don't want to say. I don't want to be reminded of it. No more wallet-related memories that torment my soul, please.

There really was a sort of freedom, being computer-less. I felt light without it always tugging me toward its screen, without it telling me to check this, and check that! Work on this! Write that!

Oh, all right. I was only partially computer-less. I borrowed my sister's And yes, I admit. I was already halfway out the door when I got the call from Bleak Squawk to come pick it up.

Shall I continue where I left off on that 30 Day Film Challenge?

Day 11 A Film By Your Favorite Director

In my usual fashion of not committing to just 1 favorite, I will say Hitchcock is one of my favorites and I'm always delighted when Rear Window is on TV. And how anyone could possibly reject Grace Kelly is just, I mean, just crazy talk.

Day 12 Least Liked From Your Favorite Director

That one by Hitchcock with Paul Newman and Julie Andrews. But, can I just say, a young Paul Newman - hotness.

Day 13 A Guilty Pleasure

Excess Baggage. Aayee! That Benicio del Toro!

Day 14 A Film that No One Expected You to Like

By no one, I mean me. 17 Again. Maybe because it was supposed to be this Disney kid trying to be in a movie. But Zac Efron wasn't bad. Not bad at all. Pretty good, actually.

I'm skipping Day 15 because I don't have an answer.

Day 16 A Film You Used to Love But Now Hate

Can I think on this? No, really, that was the title, Can I Think On This? Just kidding.

Day 17 Favorite Drama

I know I can always count on Steel Magnolias to get the tears flowing.

Day 18 Favorite Comedy

The Philadelphia Story. and that scene where Jimmy Stewart answers the phone with, this is the Voice of Doom calling..

And, ah, remember that Phoebe Cates movie, with Rik Mayall? Drop Dead Fred. Don't judge.

Day 19 Favorite Action Movie

The first that comes to mind is Quentin Tarantino's Death Proof. Such a satisfying ending!

Day 20 Favorite Romantic Film

An Affair to Remember with Cary Grant and Deborah Kerr. If only cruise ships were still like that. Now it's wobbly sunburned drunks, eye disease outfits, and stroller brigades.

Day 21 Favorite Sci-Fi/Fantasy

The Adventures of Baron Munchausen! More on the sci-fi side, Abre Los Ojos.

Day 22 Favorite Horror

Hands down, The Exorcist is still the scariest for me.

Day 23 Favorite Thriller/Mystery

Long but worth it: The Secret in Their Eyes.