Song Challenge Day 9: A Song That Makes You Happy

Back again. Day 9, "A song that makes you happy."

I'm going with a song I've honestly never heard on the radio, but that's been in a bunch of movies and shows, one you've probably heard yourself and have no idea who it's by or what it's called. 

To my shame, I've never bothered listening to anything else by Rusted Root who, apparently, were quite prolific before going on hiatus. 

So anyway, this song is super peppy and Cheery. It may not have much in terms of lyrical complexity, but it just brings sunshine into the room whenever it's playing. And it doesn't sound like it's trying too hard, which I think is why it doesn't annoy me. I mean, I can't listen to more than one ABBA song without wanting to puke, but this can play on a loop. It's relaxed, pleasant. 

There are a lot of sad songs out there, and a lot of reasons to be sad right now. This song is a great one to lift the spirits. 

Day 8: A Song About Drugs or Alcohol

Alrighty, day 8, "A song about drugs or alcohol."

I went back and forth over a lot of options, but I think I have to settle on this one, here:

"Roc Boys" is one of Jay-Z's songs inspired by the film American Gangster, on the album of the same name. (For unedited, click here.) I highly recommend both the film and the album it inspired. 

Given the premise of the film, and how Jay-Z was basically remaking the movie in his music, yeah, this song is about drugs- specifically the selling of them, and riding the success thereafter. 

And while no, I obviously don't condone drug rings, this song is ridiculously catchy, and I love it. I don't think I've made a mix CD since I bought the American Gangster album that doesn't include "Roc Boys" on it (and I make them every few months). 

Song Challenge Day 7: A Song to Drive to

For all five of you that are following this silly thing of mine, it's day 7 of the song challenge, and the prompt today is, "A Song to Drive to."

This is another fairly easy one. For your listening and driving pleasure: 

You're welcome.

Ok so this was the first song I heard by ZZ Ward and I fell in love with the blues-rock hybrid sound of it, and then I listened to the rest of her stuff (this was not too long after her first album dropped, so eight years ago, give or take a few months). Oof, does this woman know how to wail and NOT sound like a dying chicken! If this song interests you at all, I implore you to look her up on Spotify or Apple Music or Prime Music or whatever the Hell else it is you use to listen to music. She's mega-talented and deserves way more attention, and it's a shame she's still somewhat obscure. Her second album is also a gem, and her mixtape Eleven Roses with her own versions of songs by other artists like Kendrick Lamar is just... 

Anyway, so "Move Like You Stole It" is a damn fun song. It's sexy, it's tough, it's assertive, it's bold. It's catchy! And that hint of gravel in her voice could easily sound like a cold in less-skilled hands, but she utilizes it just enough to give her singing an extra bit of depth without sounding gimmicky or ill.

One thing that I appreciated about this song was it's a woman singing about sexual desire and the things she'd do to her partner- it's a lot harder to find women singing about sex than men. You get your "Red Light Special"s and "2 Become 1"s every now and again, but pretty much every genre has a sub-genre focused on tropes revolving around the exploitation, objectification, and/or dehumanization of women. So I adore the following, and will sing its praises until the day I die, because of the message it's sending:

I'm not saying women should thus be exploiting dudes left and right (although the dudes in Maddie and Tae's video are pretty fucking hilarious- but it's SATIRE, so it's not the same thing) (and I should note, Bo Burnham even hints at the treatment of women in stadium country music with his generic "A good girl" line in his satirical country song). But Women just rarely sing about sex, arousal, or desire.

So Ward's overt passes and statements are refreshing. She may be singing about driving, but she's really singing about something else. You go, girl. 

But for real, overall, this song is a toe-tapper for sure, and I legit have to be careful not to start speeding when it pops up on the mix CDs I keep in my car (because sometimes I do tire of channel surfing*). Listen to it, relish it.

And look up the rest of ZZ Ward's music. You will not be disappointed.

*Again, sorry Beaux.

Song Challenge 6: A Song That Makes You Want to Dance

I'm pretty excited for this one. Day 6 in the song challenge is "A song that makes you want to dance."

I didn't have to think much about this one. Even though I can't dance at all, I still know what I wish I could dance to, and right now, the main one is this:

I know the official video has that moment where it gets a little distorted, so if for some reason you've never heard this song before (WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN), here's The Weeknd's official audio version, completely intact.

I've thoroughly enjoyed all of The Weeknd's previous albums, and his latest, After Hours, absolutely does not disappoint. It came out right after I got stuck at home, and I listened to it on repeat for a week straight while my boyfriend was at work (he still has a job, huzzah!), and with headphones when he was home. I think it's his best work so far, and from what I've seen online, I guess actual, paid critics agree. 

Whenever this song comes on the radio (or I find it when channel surfing- I am a terrible channel surfer*), I crank it up and start bobbing around in the driver's seat the way Tesfaye does partway through the video. I can't help it. If I'm at a red light, I start slapping** my thigh to the beat; if I'm not, it's the wheel. 

The layers in this song are intoxicating. The synth hook is the kind of earworm I'm totally ok with having around. The simple but heavy beat begs for some sort of physical reaction (a tap, a nod, something). Tesfaye's voice is as smooth and sexy as ever. I don't even mind the "HEY!"-ing, something I often find a little annoying in songs- it somehow fits here, perhaps because of the excitement this song just kind of engenders. It all adds up to another song that, as the kids say, "slaps."

In other words, this is a fucking good song. And it not only makes me want to dance, it makes me wish I even could. 

One last thing: Honorable Mention goes to the remix of Mike Posner's "I Took a Pill in Ibiza." Both are great, in very different ways, and the remix just hits you in the face once the first chorus ends and it's like DAY-um. I'm just sad they cut the last verse from the remix, but still, it's one of the few club/dance remixes I even tolerate, let alone absolutely adore.

*I'm sorry, Beaux.

**Maybe that's where the "slap" thing came from when it comes to describing good songs?

Song Challenge Day 5: A Song That Needs to be Played Loud

It's time for day 5, "A song that needs to be played loud." 

I'll be honest, there are a lot of songs I crank the volume up for, but I think I need to go with this one: 

Yes, I know that's the cleaned-up version, so here's the original. 

Ok. So.

I know, I'm pretty white. I'm in no way saying I'm a "g" or anything like that. I know I am entirely removed from every single thing Fiddy is rapping about, here, and I have no intention of ever setting foot in a "club" for the rest of my life.

But.

Come on.

This song absolutely SLAPS, as the kids say, seventeen years after its release. Seriously, what dance/party playlist would be complete without this song, even nowadays? That's right, none. 

That hook, that beat. You know you love it.

Having never been to "da club" before, I still assert this is one of the best club songs ever.

Change my mind.

Keep tapping your toes and nodding your head.

Song Challenge Day 4: A Song That Reminds You of Someone You'd Rather Forget

Time for Day 4 of the Song Challenge, "A song that reminds you of someone you'd rather forget."

I'm going with this one:

If you've been following this blog for a while, or know me in person, you know who this song is about- I wrote about our breakup before.

Gomez sings about a man who started out wonderful, but whose narcissism took over her world, whose behavior trained her to put his needs before hers at all times. A man who had a somewhat carnal need to cause her pain, who would sabotage things she cared about simply because she cared about them. A man that kept holding her back and tearing her down.

And she sings about herself, a woman who tried. A woman whose idealism kept her hanging on, only causing her more pain. But who eventually lets go and realizes she's none of the things he made her think. That she's worth more.

Funny enough, the only part that's off is the, "In two months you replaced us," bit- in actuality, I found someone new in about two months, and he's the best thing that has ever happened to me. 

I left that ex out of self-preservation. But getting away from his toxicity has helped me gain a new perspective about myself, and started me on a journey with more self-love than I've ever felt for myself before. I still struggle with my self-image, but knowing I did my best but still made the best choice I could, helps me lean in a positive direction. 

Still, I don't really like thinking of him, if for no other reason than I've moved on and am in an astronomically better relationship, and dwelling on my abuser can lead to some pretty low lows. Thinking of him frequently takes me to dark places, so I try not to.  

Day 3: A Song That Reminds You of Summer

Time for Day 3, "A song that reminds you of summer."

Y'all are probably going to make fun of me, but this song makes me think of summer when I hear it:

While it gained a resurgence in popularity thanks to and is mostly associated with the film Shrek, the music video features clips from the criminally underrated/under-appreciated Mystery Men, in which it featured heavily, and is meant to imply the band is interacting with the film's stars. 

This song came out relatively close to when summer vacation starts for kids. At home, while my mom was running errands or taking my siblings to specialists, I'd put VH1 on in the background as I did chores, and this song must have played every gorram hour that summer following its release. It completely dominated my summer vacation. 

And the video itself, with its bright lighting and primary colors, invokes summer.

Honestly, I don't have a whole lot more to say about it. It's still a good song, despite what haters say, and the memes that center around it are just delightful (this is one of my favorites, being somewhat of a music snob)- and the band is cool with them, even!

Really, I think the people ragging on "All Star" just hate happiness.

Song Challenge Day 2: A Song With a Number in the Title

Time for Day 2: "A song you like with a number in the title."

Easy pick, this one was:

I first heard this song in the movie Fly Away Home, of all places. I loved that movie- I watched it every time it was on TV. I even bought a copy of it when I was in college, although somewhere along the way it got lost.

A year after the movie came out (so in 1997), my grandmother passed away from lung cancer. It wasn't a long, drawn-out battle, either- she was diagnosed in October and passed a few days after my birthday in March. (Happy birthday to me, right? Some sort of fucked up cosmic joke, and to this day, it's a reason I'm often reluctant to give a shit about making it another year.) It was sudden, nigh traumatic- in the blink of an eye, she went from teaching me about the pork and beans plant to herself being a vegetable, and then...

Losing her was the beginning of the lifetime of hardship I've endured. While I've had some brief moments of respite, it continues to be difficult, and beyond your everyday annoyances- deaths, suicides, abuse, couch surfing, health scares of my own (most of it I haven't even bothered to bring up here)- yadda, yadda, yadda. There is a reason I call this blog American Dramady, after all. In my lowest moments, I lament how life won't give me a fucking break. I try to come out swinging, and do my best to laugh, but it can be difficult. So sometimes I find irrational things from which to draw strength when I can.

The singer is saying goodbye to someone they love dearly. But saying they won't be gone forever. Maybe it's entirely psychosomatic, but I think I created this unspoken promise from her- the promise that she'd still be there, here, present. So I almost immediately related this song to my grandma once she was gone. And to this day, whenever I play it, I can feel her fingers scratching my scalp to comfort me (it was literally the only thing that could calm me down when I was little). I can smell her perfume. I can hear her laugh. I can hear her do that thing where she starts saying one of my siblings' names and switches to mine halfway through, something that never ceased to make me giggle. I see her working in the garden, the flowers we planted together, the butterfly she once got to land on her finger. I can smell her cooking, and I think of corned beef hash and scrambled eggs, of vanilla ice cream topped with canned peaches (I can't eat those combinations, to this day).

And I know she's there. And somehow, it's not that cheesy, "You'll be in my heart, always," kind of way. It feels tangible, again, however irrational it may be. And even though I often start sobbing (like I am now, 'natch!), it's cleansing. Grandma never told me not to cry- she didn't like seeing me sad or in pain, but she never told me to "stop crying." She knew me enough to know that if I was crying, it was because I needed it. I'd do that thing little kids do where their breath starts to heave as they're blubbering, and she'd curl me up in her arms and say it's ok, let it out, as she stroked my head, and I knew I was safe. And I'd feel better a lot faster when she did that. The release when I play "10000 Miles" is the same.

The soothing mood of the song is a lot like her presence. I think that had a lot to do with why I assigned this song to her memory. I only ever saw her angry once, and it had nothing to do with me- other than that, she was just this calm, steady, constant presence.

Until she wasn't.

And the hint of sadness weaved throughout this song echoes the pain I still feel at her loss. Twenty-three years later, and it still feels fresh. Her death cut too deep for any song I equate with her to be cheerful- I can't force myself to laugh over losing her. I can laugh when recalling specific moments, but that's not the same thing.

I know I'm high-strung/emotional/whatever. And yeah, I'm sentimental a-eff. There are much less healthy coping mechanisms, though, right? 

So even though it may appear this song makes me sad, it actually gives me comfort and strength. And even as I wipe away tears, I feel better. I don't listen to it often, deliberately- it's kind of like a trump card for me, along with watching The Last Unicorn, something I save for when things are really hard so as not to dilute its effectiveness. And I think it's no coincidence that the same grandma that is the basis for The Last Unicorn being a source of comfort is the one I'm talking about here, as well.

It's hard for me to find sanctuary. In this song, I do. 

I promise, tomorrow's won't be as sad. ;p

Song Challenge Day 1: A Song with a Color in the Title

So because of this pandemic, I've been home for over a month at this point. I've been trying to find different ways to occupy myself so as to not go stir-crazy or get too depressed, so I thought I would take this song challenge thing a friend on Facebook is doing and expand on it a little each day here. 

I know I'm starting in the middle of the month, so I'll just do all 31. Not that anyone will really care all that much, but it will be something for me to do aside from watching TV (I'm currently in season 3 of Star Trek: Voyager) or playing video games (Bloodborne and the Resi 3 remake, a topic about which I hope to rant at some point soon, too, if I can just figure out how to say what I want).

So, day 1 is "A song with a color in the title." Here's my choice:

I think the meaning behind this song often gets lost in the upbeat tempo and catchy hooks- but when you listen to the lyrics, it's not just about missing someone or something you took for granted. It's about conservation and enviornmentalism. 

"Hey farmer, farmer/ Put away the DDT now/ Give me spots on my apples/ But leave me the birds and the bees/ Please."

You can be kind of snarky about it and say she's singing about sex, and I'm sure she deliberately chose that lyric in order to facilitate multiple meanings. But a different interpretation is she's telling a farmer to quit using pesticides on apples so it doesn't destroy the environment.

This song is fifty years old. And how are we doing?

Welp.

-We have ten years before the entire global ecosystem collapses, with losses of coasts and islands due to sea levels rising as a result of ice caps melting, all coral reefs dying, water scarcity, crop failures...

-Oh, those ice caps are likely to so depleted that there will be no ice during summer seasons within thirty years. 

-Most of the ecosystems in our oceans my collapse within this decade. 

-And we're totally not prepared for what could happen if we don't improve our policies and repair the damage, since we aren't doing enough to stave off catastrophe.

It's a damned shame.

Now I know anybody interested in reading what I have to say is already on board with this, but it's just infuriating because my generation and those after me are inheriting this almost literal trash fire from our parents and grandparents- and they're fine with it! They'll be dead, so they don't give a shit.

I know I could do better- I could probably use less water when doing dishes, taking showers,etc., but there's still the fact that one person's contribution is negligible when compared to the biggest polluting companies in the world- so much so that the top eight produce more pollution than that caused by every person in the U.S. combined. 

But the raw molecules are only part of the story. Between the narrative sold to us by consumerism and society, and the increasing neoliberalism rampant in our political structures (the emphasis on the individual), we're stuck in a system where we think we have choices, but we don't, and we think our choices will make a difference, but their impact will only be marginal at best (assuming everyone makes the right ones together).

But this is a lie.

In truth, these companies have known as early as five years before Joni Mitchell wrote "Big Yellow Taxi" that they would destroy the environment. And instead of changing course, turning themselves into renewable sources of energy, they doubled down and bought government leaders- Congresspeople, governors, mayors, presidents. They secure funding and tax breaks, they block policies that would go so far as to require them to (literally) clean up their act even just a fraction of a percent a year. They fund erroneous research via "thinktanks" they front, all the while putting forth a false pretense of being "clean" and "caring" about our environment and the world in which we live. Current marketing campaigns with sweeping shots of solar panels and an exaggerated presentation of their "push" for alternative energy like the video on this page abound.

Interestingly, in that video, they emphasize how they've spent $16.5B on this research since 2000. But, given the lowest their annual revenue has been since then was $205.251B, one would think that if they really cared as much as they did, they would be spending a lot more on alternatives and efficiency- as it stands, $16.5B over twenty years isn't much at all for a company that huge.

And yet, they've convinced us that we are the ones at fault, for our own daily practices. It's our fault for driving so much, let alone how their cohorts block public transit and oil companies contributed to the fall of the first wave of electric cars by GM in the '90s. It's our fault for using traditional energy, yet they make no effort to create affordable solar or wind options for anyone aside from the 1%. It's our fault for using gorram plastic straws (and plastic in general), even though the alternatives are still more expensive and sometimes don't quite cut it.

The only way things are going to improve is if fundamental shifts in how our society functions and operates occur. Mass transit needs to become the primary means of transportation in every community. Renewable energy for the home needs to not only be made affordable for the middle-class, but flat-out provided to the working poor. Plastic alternatives need to be less expensive. Fossil fuel companies' current sources of revenue, i.e. fossil fuels, need to become obsolete. Tesla can't be the only company making fully electric cars.

Big changes. And we're nowhere near any of them right now.

So, "Big Yellow Taxi." Every time I hear it, whether it's the original or that ubiquitous cover by the Counting Crows and Vanessa Carleton, I tap my toes while also kind of having a slight tantrum in my head. Because fifty years ago, one of the greatest singer-songwriters of the last century warned us about what we're doing to our planet. And we haven't really listened.

We won't really know what we've got until it's gone, and by then, it will be too late.

Happy Friday?

Abusing is a Choice, and Johnny Made it, Too

Mild Spoilers for Big Little Lies- because let's face it, I think errbody knows the deal with Nicole Kidman's character by now, but just in case you have NO IDEA and just CAN'T be spoiled in the least, you may wanna skip this one, kiddo

In Big Little Lies, season 1, we are witness to the abusive and toxic  relationship between Celeste (played beautifully, heartbreakingly by Nicole Kidman) and her husband Perry (played hauntingly by Alexander Skarsgard (sorry, I legit can't figure out how to do the little doodad over the second "a" in his name :( )). While we can see Celeste getting something out of it, the show tries to make it pretty clear that Perry is the abuser and Celeste is the abused.

Then season 2 happens.

And while I can't find any super useful clips online (good job, HBO, you bastards), it complicates this dichotomy more. Because during the course of the second season, Celeste admits to having also hit Perry, and that the abuse made sex with him more exciting and satisfying. In the end, she still proves that this does not make her an unfit mother, and that she did what she had to do to adapt to her situation and survive. Ultimately, she admits some culpability while still maintaining that she lived in a constant state of fear and anxiety for her own safety and the safety of her twin sons.

In other words, the show moves from painting her as 100% a victim to having somewhat of a hand in her situation, while still maintaining she was, overall, a victim. I can't remember all the ways how, but I know between the two seasons, as well as the combination of Celeste's descriptions to others plus the times we're actually shown the violence, it's made clear that Perry used his greater physical strength and size against her by pinning her, lifting her in a way that made her prone and defenseless (by her hair at least once, for example), and/or trapping her in places from which she had no escape (although it backfired in the shower that one time, but it's likely that was a fluke and who knows? a predator like that, he'd probably hit her in the shower before; it's at least not hard to believe, especially given how utterly terrified she is that time he gives her a necklace in there). So even though there are a few times where she stands up for herself and essentially "starts" the fight (which is, of course, messed up- it's not like she deserves to be punched for trying to set a boundary), in the end, he would use tactics that rendered her helpless and overpower her before she even had much chance to physically harm him. Still, even though she accepts and works through the fact that she wasn't 100% innocent, that doesn't mean she deserved what happened, nor that her treatment of Perry is equivalent to how he treated her.

I bring this up because this news about Amber Heard and Johnny Depp reminds me of it. And what's so fucking frustrating about it is from the moment Heard published her op-ed in the New York Times, the idea that she's making it all up has been pretty damn loud. So now that there is audio where she admits some culpability, there's suddenly this huge "Justice for Johnny" campaign that entirely exonerates him from his part in the abuse.

Not even that. It paints him as 100% the victim, as Season 1 Celeste. Like he was entirely innocent and did absolutely nothing to harm Heard.

And I'm over here thinking, "Fuck, did these people all read the same stuff I did before?"

Me, to the whole Internet lately

Because this "free Johnny" stuff ignores that she has photographic evidence of abuse, has corroboration from friends who took her call when she was upset over him getting physical, who came over and saw the aftermath, or called 911 for her because they could hear it happening. 

Also.

Listen to the audio. His language is frequently one of mutual culpability. Lots of "we," lots of "you and I"-ing. And "...physical abuse on each other." And having been afraid of a partner, I know that yes, sometimes a victim will claim some fault in order to placate them during reconciliation- I've been there. But if this is all we have, then conjecture and assuming that's all he's doing is... reckless, at best. 

And yes, it's important to acknowledge that he does talk about leaving... once. One night, out of the eighteen months they were married, plus their time together before nuptials. 

Unfortunately, this isn't a television drama. This is real life. Unlike Celeste and Perry's story, we can't see everything- every fight, every instance of abuse. So we have no way of knowing exactly what happened every time they got physical with each other.

But.

Heard admitting she would "lose it" does not mean Depp never did, too. Heard admitting she hit him doesn't mean Depp never hit her. 

And folks, I've been around abuse. Even if he didn't start it every single time, he always, always had a choice. The fact that he made the right one once doesn't mean he did it every time. 

I've said (or maybe implied, I guess) before, I got out of my abusive relationship probably within a few days of being phyically abused. I was lucky. But when we were still together, I could get pretty nasty when we were fighting.

My ex-boyfriend has a son that, at the time we started dating, he hadn't seen in well over a year. When I left him, he still hadn't- so by then, it had been closer to four years. And as awful as I feel about it, as un-proud I am about it, I used that against him. I would say things like, "Maybe if you got your fucking shit together, I'd finally get to meet the kid you claim you want me to be a mom to!" and, "You think you deserve to see your kid when you act like that?" or even, "He's better off without you."

You, to me

I know. I hate me a little for it, and I always will. I apologized to him as I was leaving, but I'll probably never forgive myself. I lashed out, said things I knew would wound him severely as a result of and in retaliation for the wounds he had given me. In other words, I made the choice to hurt him back.

As I've said before,* being good is a choice. Doing the right thing is just that: An action verb, a gerund**. It's not passive. No one is good, we do as much good as we can. Just being oneself is a process, and all we can do is make it a process focused on doing the "right" thing every time we're given a choice not to.

I bring this up to point out that while I'm more of a Season 2 Celeste, someone that was hurt and maybe did some stupid stuff as a result/way to cope, Heard isn't automatically a Perry- essentially evil, nigh irredeemably so- just because she admits she was also abusive. Mutual abuse is, by its very nature, never one-sided. And it's horrendously, uncomfortably, disturbingly complex. It's not black-and-white, it's all kinds of gray, and not that 50-shades ball-hooey.

Unlike the Entire Internet, I don't find it hard to believe that Heard could have hit Depp but that he also hit her, too. Her admitting culpability does not absolve him from his. Worst case scenario: They're both absolute trash and neither deserves a career anymore because fuck that. But that's just it: BOTH OF THEM. Because if Heard deserves to be "canceled" or whatever for hitting Depp, then the same goes for him. 

And of course, I have no doubt Depp was hurting, too, and not just physically. It's obvious in the recordings (and stands to reason) that he loved her and wanted to make things work. Because another thing about abusive relationships that people tend to gloss over is that someone can, in the best way they're capable of, love the partner they abuse. Yes, it's twisted, it's selfish, it's toxic, but it's still their version of love. And so I do have some sympathy for both, because by golly, I can't imagine how fucked up it would be to have that much extremity involved with the person I love- the guilt, the shame, the anger, but also the joy, the bliss, the passion. But is it so hard to believe that they both chose to hurt one another? At least subconsciously, if not overtly?

Apparently it is!!!!***

Honestly, though, what this whole "free Johnny" crap demonstrates is the deep misogyny embedded in the public reaction to all of this, and the double standards women face when they try to come forward about abuse of any kind. Because like I said, since Heard first came forward, the court of public opinion has basically put her on trial the way victims are treated in real court rooms. Take Taylor Swift's case for example: The opposing attorney was basically just trying to gaslight her the whole time she was on the stand (and how glorious it was that she was not having it) (you may dislike her music, but that's fucking badass, come on). All sorts of shit about how Heard could have left sooner, it wasn't like she didn't have her own money, if he was already abusing her why did she marry him, etc. It's just disgusting.

So now? Now, there's an excuse to just brush her off entirely.

JK Rowling must be wiping her TERFy forehead with relief right now, I tell ya. 

As a slight aside, too- I know from experience that toxicity is never there from the beginning. It seeps in, slowly, gradually, until suddenly you realize you're covered in it and basically this guy:

So this idea that she "should" have got out sooner if he was so bad is hogwash. Saying stuff like "leave the first time he disrespects you" and "the moment he tells you what to wear, get out" is a form of victim-blaming, and it's easy to say from the outside. Nevermind the fact that so much of what makes domestic abuse so difficult to get away from is the unhealthy dependency that gets conditioned into both parties- no, just get out as soon as he's a little mean!

But that's just it: It always starts small, in little ways that are easy to explain and forgive. And when you're in the thick of the relationship, you're seeing the forest and missing the trees. And eventually you're so busy staring at the canopy, you fail to realize that 90% of the trees are actually rotten. And even though maybe you see dying trees in your periphery, you focus like a lazer on the one or two that are still green and beautiful, because it's the only way you can keep going, the only way to justify to yourself the fact that you fell for it. 

And honestly? This could genuinely apply to both Heard and Depp. They're only human. Neither of them was throwing stuff or pulling hair the first week. It started with a nasty remark, maybe a slap or pulled puch that was legitimately meant to be a joke. And as time went on, they both started doing things that were worse, darker, progressively less and less okay, less and less funny. Until POOF! their behavior got so extreme there were bruises and blood. As Depp put it, it was "a crime scene." It evolved into that, though, crept up on both of them.

But to assume it's all made up when Heard is the victim, and then that everything she says is suddenly true as long as it pertains to hurting Depp is downright gross. There's a recording of Heard admitting she hit him, there's also at least one third party that says they witnessed Depp hitting her. 

I want to reiterate that last point- a THIRD PARTY witness has given statements about the abuse inflicted on Heard. Ignoring this while taking that recording at face value is willful hypocrisy. 

I don't give a damn about either of them individually, no more than I would anyone else I don't know- I don't wish them harm, no, but I don't stay up at night worrying if either is ok. But this wave of "free Johnny" stuff, that I care about, and that has literally kept me up at night- because it's another example of a woman's case being nitpicked and torn apart in order to exonerate the man that did her harm. And even if she hit him, he hit her, too (and, according to that friend of Heard's, even ripped some of her gorram hair out). Sure, she should be held accountable- I'm not saying she shouldn't. But so should he. And if you think for one moment that he's innocent now, then just get your head out of your ass, or admit you're a sheep that's too easily duped by misogynistic narratives that are formulated specifically to preserve male hegemony. Please, people just....

*Oh me from a few years ago, admiring Hillary so blindly........... We all make mistakes. Le sigh.

**I fucking love gerunds. About as much as my Oxford commas. 

***Pardon my terrible MS Paint job. A more skilled person would turn it into a gif somehow. I am not that person. 

Happy Birthday, My Princess, My General

I'm a grownass woman, yeah, but I love Disney movies, always have, always will. 

As an adult, I've had to separate the content they create from the shenanigans their company gets into, like how they recently got greedy with Spider-Man and caused Sony to yeet out of there. This article does a great job talking about that distinction (and how some fans seem to willfully blind themselves from the dirty truth about Disney as a company), and I loved this line in particular: 

"I can tell you as a Disney fan that being excited about what it's offering while also being aware of the company's great appetite are not mutually exclusive terms."


Even though I loved the movies I was watching as a kid, there was frequently some dissonance between how much I liked the female characters and how much I was supposed to like them. Ariel annoyed me because I knew, even when I was five, that she was being disobedient and reckless and just ended up lucky that things worked out for her. Belle, I related to in the sense that she didn't really have any friends, but I also recognized when I was little that she gave up her dreams of "adventure in the great wide somewhere" for a dude; plus, I was made fun of for being fat and ugly, while she was admired for her beauty by the people being assholes to her. Jasmine was just too underdeveloped for me and didn't really have much to do in her movie except get captured and rescued by dudes (although her owning a goddamned tiger as a pet certainly helped). Cinderella, Snow White, and Aurora were just flat-out boring to me*. I loved Mulan, but she's not a princess (even though the Disney Princes Line™  has been including her as kind of a supporting character since its launch in 2000, and she was also part of the princess ensemble in Ralph Breaks the Internet) and Megara (they started including her in the Princess Line™ later, also more background/tangential, and she was not in Ralph), but she also wasn't a princess, and anyway, she wasn't even the star of her movie.

It isn't that I didn't like the movies, let me reiterate. Even as a little kid, I was already picking the things I enjoyed apart and finding problematic aspects of things such as plot, character development, etc., much like I do now. So yeah, I had Beauty and the Beast stuff all over my room as a kid, since that was my favorite Disney movie (still ranks pretty high, too), even though I knew it was a plothole that Belle never really did anything "adventurous" in her movie. I'd reenact the big "Part of Your World" moment where Ariel rises up and the wave splashes behind her in the bathroom all the time (much to my mom's chagrin), even while bemoaning how she was a "bad girl." I just wasn't big into the whole Princess thing because I hadn't come across a princess that seemed worth really admiring. 

Then George Lucas released that VHS box set of the "special edition" in 1997. You know the one. The one where Han doesn't shoot first, the one everybody had been waiting over a decade for because they thought it was going to include cut scenes and stuff (oh how wrong they were...).

And I met Leia. 

Here was a princess that, even when she was held hostage, didn't take shit from the dude keeping her. She was sassy. She was smart. She kicked ass. She was a great tactician. She was brave. She cared about the people around her. She ended up saving the dude! And, yes, she was absolutely stunning, legit one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen onscreen, and I would still say that about her now.

And did I say that she was sassy?

I loved her, wanted to be her in a way I never had with any of the then-canonical Disney Princesses™.

I don't know if my dad even realized what happened when he got that box set for us (I think for Christmas? That was a rough year for our family, so it's hard to pinpoint; he may have just bought it Because), but I watched those tapes every chance I got when I was home alone so I could spend time with her. And I had to do it alone because those tapes were Dad's, and he usually said no when I asked him if I could watch them when he was around. So yeah, I had to basically sneak my Leia fixes. I would fast-forward to her scenes, watch them in slow-mo, pause the tapes and try to pose like her. I even tried to put my hair in those signature side-buns of hers a few times- failing miserably, of course. I even renamed my favorite Barbie doll "Leia" in her honor.** And I'd do the doll's hair like Leia's (with more success than when I tried on myself, I should add) and pretend she was my Jedi master. And I'd sometimes try to use the Force to knock shit over or make it come to me, knowing in my heart of hearts that Leia was probably a secret Jedi or something. 

I was a kid back then, so I didn't think too much about the actress playing her, and it wouldn't be until I was in late high school/college-ish until I gave M'lady Carrie Fisher any room in my headspace. I don't remember exactly what I was watching- perhaps some documentary about the making of the OG trilogy (because the prequels were out by this point, or at least wrapping up), but she opened up about her anorexia while making the movies, and that... hit.

I've never been anorexic, but God, I have never been happy with my body. It didn't help that I was constantly made fun of for it, too, up until I started college. So to hear about her "failed bulimia" just struck a nerve. I was a late teen at this point, but still. How could my Leia, my Leia, be so insecure? If she was made to feel that way, what the fuck do people WANT, anyway? It pissed me off- for her sake, for the sake of other women and girls. 

It's silly, but it made me feel "close" to Carrie, because I could relate. I imagined meeting her and saying, "See? At least I'm a fat-ass! They have NO excuse for being such assholes to you! Who's dicks are we cutting off?" (I get the feeling she would have laughed a bit, then told me to be kinder to myself.)

And when I saw the HBO version of her Broadway one-person show, Wishful Drinking, I felt seen. In the way that only she could do, she had me laugh-crying with her during the whole special. And I felt even closer to her, and while maybe some of it was wishful thinking, I wanted to believe we were kind of similar in a lot of ways, new ones, aside from the body image issues. The penchant for drama to find her (and legit drama, like the waking-up-next-to-a-dead-body kind of drama, not the "I spilled my latte oh NOES!" drama of your everyday Becky or the Mean Cashier drama for the Karens of the world). The mental illness. The heartache. The feeling of being an outsider, even when you're part of the group. 

The gallows humor. I have legit made people UPSET cracking jokes about my situations sometimes. So her making funnies out of her past? Totally my jam, my way of storytelling, to this day.

Carrie was like the cool aunt I never realized I needed. It's ridiculous, but I honestly would sometimes think about how she'd respond to the things I'd say to myself in my head, and I'd stop being so cruel to myself at times. I'd picture her punching my own "Dark Side" in the kisser. I still do it now.

I watched others of her works, and while of course I found her wonderful in all of them, I think it makes sense that Leia is the one I felt the strongest about- I was what they call "impressionable" when I met Leia, after all, and she imprinted on me.

Having endured the prequels in theaters a decade ago, the biggest reason I saw The Force Awakens in theaters was that Carrie was back. I liked it way more than I thought I would, but you bet your boots I fist-pumped and "YESSSS!"-ed when it was announced (onscreen) Leia is now the general of "The Resistance." 

Buttercup was another princess I found EXTREMELY
boring, but I was super stoked when I found out she
was going to be an Amazonian general in Wonder Woman

When she died, my heart broke a little. And it's ridiculous, since I never met the woman, but I missed her- missed her presence online, in the cultural zeitgeist. So I recently listened to her autobiographical works on audiobook to get a fix, I guess- she read them herself. I was laughing and laugh-crying right along with her the whole time, once again. And sometimes, when she talked about her mental illness, I again felt seen, and wanted to hug her, and knew she would want to do so for me if I needed it. 

It's silly, but her strength was something for me to emulate. I don't want to say "admire," since that comes close to supercripping her, but being in a pretty low place and knowing she came out on top, at least in terms of claiming and taking her life back, gave me hope. A new one, if you will. 

I know I'll cry during her scenses in The Rise of Skywalker. I just know it. And that's okay. I'll get to say goodbye one more time.

So, Carrie, my Princess, my General. I hope your birthday was amazeballs. I'm sure you were partying hard with the likes of Freddie Murcury and your own mama. And I know you know this, but we still love you and miss you, and our lives are better because you were a part of this world.

Love,
A Cracked, But Not Broken, Fan

Epilogue:

When Disney bought the Star Wars franchise, I was excited because I knew the brand and knew that, eventually, we'd get what we now have: Star Wars: Galaxie's Edge. An entire park (section) devoted exclusively to the world of Star Wars. And sure, I love the Star Wars franchise, but Leia always has been, and always will be, my favorite part of it. So when and if I go (provided it doesn't close down), I'll have fun, but I'll be most interested in seeing what they do with Leia- how they portray her, what they do with her character, etc. Like they BETTER not make a ride where the goal is to save her. Amirite?

Plus, she's a gorram Disney Princess now. WHERE IS MY LEIA DISNEY PRINCESS™ MERCH, DISNEY, WHERE IS IT, I SAY!??!?!!?!??!?!?!? I want a gorram meet-and-greet with a "Leia" at Disneyland for my fortieth birthday, people. 

*Although I will say, I at least mildly enjoyed Cinderella because of the mice, and adored Sleeping Beauty because of the fairies and Maleficent, and even Prince Phillip a little. But I never liked the dwarfs (Grumpy was ok, but not enough to carry the whole movie for me) and thought the Evil Queen was a stupid villain ("She's prettier than me so she needs to die!"), and of course the Prince Charming in that one doesn't do anything, and holy crap Snow White's voice is ANNOYING AF AND I WILL DIE ON THAT HILL. So I didn't like Snow White. At all. Go ahead and @ me. But you have to admit, those older Disney movies don't even really try to develop the "heroins" and spent more time and energy characterizing the people surrounding them, be they allies or antagonists. I'm sure Lindsay Ellis talks about this in one of her videos critiquing Disney, but I don't have the time to dig through her entire video history.

**Anybody that has ever owned a toy they "named" would get how this was a BFD.