A wangsta complex

Okay, I'm feeling self conscious. First of all, I'm from Waterloo, and while it's not exactly the hood, it comes close at times. I usually use my hometown as a rationale for (1.) why I love rap/hip-hop music so much and (2.) why I'm allowed to love it so much. I'm sorry I'm not sorry that I have a hard time picturing some kids from po-dunk farm towns (and/or kids from suburban utopia) loving some seriously dropped dirty rhymes.

But I do. And I can. Yet for the moment, I'm self conscious. For harboring such a ridiculous obsession with rap music and anything I can ghetto myself out to (*note: by ghetto, I mean I role up one leg of my Express Skinny jeans, throw on a wife beater and jump on my bed trying to dance like people in the proverbial rap video dance club*), I have very little rap music lurking in my 25 GB of iTunes glory. I just spent the last hour making a playlist called "Gangsta Rap" and I'm embarrassed/terrified that someone might actually see this playlist at some point. And judge my love of real gangster rap music based on these 30 songs. I included a song by Missy Elliot and one by Moby/Public Enemy. (Yeah, my situation is that bad.)

So I've been trying to beef up my wangsta identity complex all night. I'm wearing a sweatband in my hair and blasting various solo projects by members of the Wu-Tang Clan and swigging some brandy I found in the cupboard (....ha, just kidding, Mom!) and reading about the remixes done of "A Milli," one of the singles off Lil Wayne's new album, Tha Carter 3. Each guest freestyles over the track's trance-inducing beat.

And I can't lie, these remixes are wayyyyyyy legit. Guest freestylers include Jay Z, Chris Brown, Jadakiss, LL Cool J, and Lil Mama. Oh, that's right, the lipgloss goddess just got a million times sassier. Check it:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZdntRUE4l_c&NR=1

Sorry for just a link, I'm terrible at embedding videos. (Like, horrendous.) I'm sorry, but the lady can spit a flow like a champ. And her freestyle is epic length, which is totally fine by me, because she's awesome and my idol. In fact, I like her version almost the best. (Gillie Da Kid and Jay-Z tail a second close and third.)
In short, these remixes are reviving my belief in rap music. So is that picture of the chimp holding a glock. So keep these remixes coming, celebs. My gangsta rap playlist needs a makeover and quick. I'm dropping judgment temporarily (um, I know, right? did we just snowboard home? because I think hell just froze over.) on all rap aficionados out there. You get a fleeting, provisional pardon to throw those d's and blast your GZA and Clipse and "A Milli" remixes as loud as you want...because I'm doing the same thing.

Peace homies,
lil Ann
PS. Omg that is the most embarrassing sign off I've ever given. I can't think of anything ghetto and hard enough [that's not totally obscene] to use.

Cheerio, darling!

OK, I'll be done with the stereotypical British phrases.

To accompany my fab article about the new wave of British female musicians, here is a blog full of YouTube videos from the mentioned ladies. I picked my favorites, so if they don't float your boat, check the related videos and I'm sure you'll fancy at least one (had to sneak that in).

Lily Allen - Alfie

I'm slightly obsessed with her album, so I'd recommend just about any of her songs. Or check out her cover of Keane's "Everybody's Changing." Her sophomore disc Stuck on the Naughty Step comes out later this year... not that I'm counting down...

Duffy - Mercy

So this is really her only song so far. But that doesn't mean it's not great. Get your groove on with this retro ditty. Loving it.

Estelle featuring Kanye West - American Boy

It has Kanye. 'Nuff said.

Leona Lewis - Better In Time

We've all heard "Bleeding Love" about 28 million times by now, so I thought I'd put up one of her other singles. Very 90's Mariah Carey. This is a live version since nobody seems to believe in allowing Leona Lewis videos to be embedded.

M. I. A. - Paper Planes

A new classic. I'll let it speak for itself.

Kate Nash - Foundations

She's super cute and just celebrated her 21st birthday! If you're into quirky indie-pop, you'll like Ms. Nash.

and the grand finale...

Amy Winehouse - You Know I'm No Good

Gaaaaaaaah, I love it. I liked "Rehab" just as much as the next person, but "You Know I'm No Good" is by far my favorite track from the album. Please, PLEASE, better yourself, Amy. I need you around.


I'm not claiming to have discovered any of these people, by the way. I'm just suggesting my favorite songs by these artists for people who might not be familiar... or for those who are familiar, as a pleasant reminder of why we love them so much.

I'll see you in London (wishful thinking).

-Jake.

burnin' up for you, bay-bee

The last five songs I downloaded were the last five songs from the soundtrack of Mamma Mia!, (which, by the way, is a whole lot better than I would have ever guessed, Pierce Brosnan's balladeering aside). So.

the last five songs Anna downloaded that weren't Mamma Mia!: a critical look

• "Everyone Nose (Remix)" — N.E.R.D., feat. Kanye West, Lupe Fiasco and Pusha-T:

  This revamp substitutes the dominant percussion and brass of the original, not to mention downplaying its shouted subtitle  — "all the girls standing in the line for the bathroom" — and ironically makes it sound more club-friendly than ever. The bass line throbs, the synths don't do much interesting, and the lyrical tone, sadly, is set by the first line we hear from 'Ye: "Do you have any black inside you?/Would you like some?"

  Look, it's not as though the original track was some uber-mysterious, "In The Air Tonight" thing. But I did like that Pharrell Williams and co. were able to get their point — it's about celebutates doing coke — across without spelling everything out, all the time. Here, the verses vary: Mr. West gets a few good lines in,  Pharrell really scores with a comparison of a young lady's nose to Atlanta, GA, Pusha's lighting-fast flow is a welcome change of pace, if one that hits a bit too late in the track. Overall, though, this remix sounds forgettable and unnecessary; all the things Seeing Sounds, the album from whence the original comes, isn't.

• "Burnin' Up" — Jonas Brothers: 

  There are, first, some serious questions that arise in a music reviewer's mind when considering the Brothers Jonas (one unbiased enough to consider them at all, that is). How much control do they have in writing these songs, anyway? Is there some sort of shady, Lou-Pearlman-esque figure waiting to have questionable charges of pedophilia thrown at him down the line, somewhere in there? Does Nick, the littlest Brother at 15, really have any sort of

 experience with being struck breathless by a a combo of "High heels/Red dress"?

  Anyway.

  What I can't really deny (and what I find questionable anyone else would be able to, either, for the record), is that "Burnin' Up" is a damn good pop song. I heard it for the first time, and it was, no joke, stuck in my head for the remainder of the day. Clocking in at just under three minutes, it's not groundbreaking subject matter — Nick and his brothers, Joe and Kevin just cannot get over this girl. They are burning up, in fact. So much so, it's like slipping into lava.

  If it has one lame misstep, it's the weak "breakdown" in the bridge from the "JB's" security person (?) "Big Rob".  But even that isn't enough to stop the juggernaut-style catchiness of that

 chorus.

• "Belief" (live version, from Where The Light Is) — John Mayer:

  You know, I'm sure John Mayer is thankful for every fan he gets and all his success in whatever form it comes it and whatever. But seriously. If there's one artist I could name that has the worst choice of singles (and it's easy to think of some sort of cruel record company execs forcing him to release the odious "Daughters," but what do I know), it's him. 

  Or, perhaps, he's simply had the bad luck of getting a certain kind of fame and branding early on in his career: dreamy acoustic "Your Body Is A Wonderland" balladeer (holy hell, still a terrible song, when all the radio play is gone). Or maybe I'm just a Mayer-switchover so incredibly late into things (thanks, roommates), that I can't really get why everyone isn't listening to the Continuum-era with the same giddy, over-zealous nature that everyone wanted to play "Why Georgia" with. 

  Whatever it is, the fact remains — do not write John Mayer off until you've heard him play live. "Belief," curiously enough, simultaneously contains some of his most understated lyrical work, with a few heavy-handed lines tossed in. But what doesn't vary is Mayer's ever-improving (probably the most exciting thing about him as a performer and songwriter) guitar work. Extra bonus — without watching the DVD that comes with, you don't have to endure the axeman's trademark weirdo faces while playing. Just sayin'.

• "Come On Over" — Jessica Simpson:

  Come on, I had to do her next, right? After John Mayer? Get it? Or has everyone forgot about their past romance, now that Ashlee Simpson-Wentz (perhaps the most awkward name in recent years?) has eclipsed her sister in tabloid eyes for the past few months? Either way, the older Simpson sister's most recent attempt to regain her career footing, which is shaky, to put it kindly? Country.

  Not the the most sensible of moves when seen in print, but the results aren't bad, if not stunningly original, either. The instrumentation sounds like it was all created by pressing the "Downhome sass" button in a studio somewhere, full of twangy guitars, yet curiously airless sounding somehow. Jess, meanwhile, needs her man just the way he is —  now. And she doesn't sound like a girl to be kept waiting. 

  Joe Simpson, the eternally creepy paterfamilias of this clan (Pete Wentz seal of approval aside), made a statement that those surprised by Jessica's move to country must have forgotten that she's from Texas. However much her father is involved in this single's existence, Simpson enjoys a strong vocal melody here, thankfully steering clear of too much of a countrified accent.   Gosh, I miss Shania Twain. Anyone else?

"Beautiful Nightmare" — Beyoncé:

  I wouldn't doubt that somehow, Beyonce may have had herself outfitted with some form of extrasensory technology to let her know what Rihanna's up to at any given moment. Anyone remember when people thought that Jay-Z had had some sort of dalliance with the "—ella, —ella, —eh" singer? Exactly, because it's unbelievable. Beyonce wouldn't bother with paparazzi and media concerns. She would have just bitten off Rihanna's head and tossed it at Jigga as a warning for the future.

  That said, this single, coming to radio scant weeks after Rihanna's thematic and sonic twin, "Disturbia," has a distinct aura of panic to it. It's positively slapdash sounding, like they only had enough ideas for about half a song and ran with it. Bey — we can do better.

  Because seriously. You have the nerve to label this under the genre Dance/R&B, yet it's lifeless, not building to anything, the bridge pulls the oldest trick in the book by dropping out everything but the vocal. Now, Rihanna, who has always been at her best when she has dropped the act of attempting to relate to normal human beings (see the boring, terrible "Take A Bow" for more) has apparently finally turned into a robot completely in "Disturbia," her current what's-going-on-why-do-I-feel-like-this song. And it's ten times better than "Beautiful Nightmare," in that it actually inspires one to stand up and move, albeit to some pretty questionable lyrics.

  Beyoncé. As much as I was leading the "Umbrella" charge a summer a year ago, I've always been in your corner. Go back, regroup.

— Anna

NOTE-- After doing further Jonas Brothers-related research, I stumbled across this quote related to "Burnin' Up": "This song was inspired by Jonas Brothers' unlikely appreciation for the work of babe magnet Prince," according to the May 30, 2008 issue of Entertainment Weekly. 

  I know that I'm not assigning stars here, but if I were, this quote alone might up the song a whole 'nother half a star just to praise the boys for having the good taste to enjoy Prince at such a relatively young age. Nice work, kids. 

The √'s

The beat was slow and funky. Eclectic even. Bassist Owen Biddle laid down a low jam with occasional ventures up the neck before shying back down the frets. Damon "Tuba Gooding Junior" Bryson puffed the sousaphone alongside Biddle, unable to wander up the notes, but able to physically accost the crowd with waves of hot, moist air. Kamal Gray walked out to tickle the keys with the duo, much unsatisfied with his set-up, shifting cords and pedals with 80/35 stage hands. Fortunately, he finds his niche and starts to crescendo the piano keys while holding the organ keys steady.



The foundation has been laid. Time to lay on the finesse.


In a shower of Hendrix/Prince/Lenny Kravitz sexual ebony-effeminacy, Captain Kirk walked out, picked up the rhinestone axe and threw some muffled treble over the accumulating sound. The funk is impending. F. Knuckles rolled out on the bongo, holding back his wailing hands to save the mood approaching on the growing Des Moines skyline.

Suddenly, ?uestlove walked out, nonchalantly and frowning, typical of the pick-in-hair'ed drummer. Feeding off the swelling bongos, the beat beginan. The sound that normally comes from a DJ booth radiated live and pulsating from the stage. The last piece of the puzzle walked out and the show began with Black Thoughts soothing lyrics.


More on the Roots and their earning the title "Top band of the 21st Century" by Rolling Stone soon...

am i a lesbian or are the dresses really just that fabulous? : Miss Pride of Iowa 2008

The first question: what to wear to a drag show.

If you wear a dress, is that like wearing white to a wedding? I wondered. But all of my jeans were dirty, so, dress it was.

The second question: who to take to a drag show.

Inevitably, groups are more fun, but, as inevitably nearly everyone was out of town, at work, or doing something more interesting, my date for the evening ended up being just one friend, a girl.

"I wonder if people will think we're on a date," said my girl date as we headed toward the gay bar. "If they do, I'm pretty sure I'm dressed more butch."

As far as gay bars go, Studio 13 is pretty gay. On a regular night you'll see dudes swapping spit and gogo dancers in tighty whiteys. Studio is, however, not too gay for a couple of straight people to have a good time. My date and I have both been there a few times before and each of us has a story, which we swap as we round the corner of her block where I have chivalrously picked her up-- my date's story involves kereoke; mine arriving home with a no-one-ask-any-questions hickey that had me wearing my scarves indoors for a week.

Studio 13 is packed full but, at least for the first half of the show, we get decent spots facing upstage and standing next to the walkway that leads to the stage-- not really a stage, but on another night just a dance floor, with mirrors on the back wall marred with hand prints.

The show begins with 2007's Miss Pride of Iowa, a willowy drag queen with honey brown skin and a beautiful flowing caramel-colored wig. She is in an evening gown and roller skates. Immediately crowd members begin sticking out their dollars to have the former Miss Pride skate over to them with a kiss. Often, the patron and the queen exchange whispers. All of the kissing of cheeks makes it seem like everyone knows each other.

When the contestants are announced, Contestant #1 seems like a shoe-in. She, firstly, looks the most like Miss Pride 2007, with her long hair and long body, heavily highlighted cheekbones, and sequined evening gown. Contestant #2 is smaller with red blonde hair. Her dress is of evening gown length, but considerably less formality than Contestant #1's. Contestant #3's first outfit of the evening is loud, involving large floral prints, fuschia, and boots. She has pretty curls and a bouncy volumptious figure.

Immediately upon seeing the tell-tale pageant walk about, I feel nostalgia for my own little-known experience in a "scholarship program." (I can still walk in heels with a dictionary on my head-- AND turn.) Maybe I can run for Miss Pride of Iowa 2009? How gay does one have to be to run for such a thing?

Between acts of the pageant, the professional queens perform in elaborate costumes involving huge feather headdresses, leopard print, sequins, boas, even Victorian gowns. One of the performers has come from as far as Kansas City. At one point, I see someone slip a queen a ten dollar bill.

"This kind of makes me wish I was a guy so I could dress up as a girl and make some money," my date says.

I was just thinking the same thing.

The pageant, after the initial presentation of the candidates, involves two other presentations for evening gown and talent. Of course everyone's talent is the same dancing and lip-synching. Contestant #1 brings back-up dancers. Contestant #3 has an extremely frilly robe which she removes, after much anticipation, to reveal something like a cheerleader's outfit. Contestant #2, while still performing as much as the others, doesn't have the wardrobe to compete.

"Do you think she's new to drag?" my date asks me.

"I don't think she's in drag," I say. "I think she's a girl."

It is pretty hard to tell. Considering the pageant is taking place during the regular drag show time, it seems like any drag contestants would have the advantage in this venue. I have to admit, this pageant, with its drag performances, is far more fun than the Miss USA pageants I used to watch on TV with my mom.

As the evening progresses, however, people who are inevitably more gay than me find their way to the front and I lose my spot. For a while my date and I balance on stools in the back and peer over the crowd, but after awhile she wants to go into the less crowded front room where the pageant is screened above the bar.

I can't help but think that this wouldn't have happened if I'd brought a guy.

At the end of the night, Contestant #1 is crowned--and the crown is huge, by the way--, with little surprise from me.

"I hope there are flowers," I say.

There are not.

As I walk home for the night, I contemplate what I would have performed in. I realize that what I really want to do is just put on a huge dress and spin around on a stage. Which is what all little girls dream of, right? Whether they fill the dress naturally or use girdles and falsies.

-Tara

pretty tomatoes

Hello all. Your resident aspiring food critic here.

Since the recipe runs in black and white, I just wanted to show you all how beautiful these tomatoes were before I ate them.



-Tara

Whhyyyyyyyy???!

I'm a little geographically challenged when it comes to Iowa since I recently moved here. Even though I familiarized a few crucial locations (my apartment, friends' houses, Coralville mall, Jimmy John's for after-hours pickle binges, etc...), for the life of me, I couldn't figure out where the damn floods were breaching. I idiotically assumed that all my top places to go were safe and sound. So you can imagine how completely and utterly devastated I was when I eventually ventured out to the only grocery store I can afford right now: ALDI.

My main source of sustenance is now surrounded by a large puddle. I should have known!

As I was forced to turn away, sobbing, I noticed that the Waterfront Hy-Vee and their damn 5-dollar generic mayonnaises remained unscathed by the waters except for a minute portion of their matching gas station. And I don't even like mayonnaise! I don't like anything from a grocery store that costs more than $2 or is not a b.o.g.o. Or not a bonus buy. Or not on sale. Unless it's some great, Italian Parmesan or something. Whatever, I'm done complaining. I miss you, Aldi.


-Kathleen

Sh-Sh-Shakin'

In 2002, Shannon and I convinced her dad to drive us to Omaha to see our obsession of the moment, the So-Cal rock outfit Rooney, at the now-defunct Ranch Bowl, which also served as a bowling alley, mini-golf course, beach volleyball pit and, of course, bar. With disposable cameras in hand, I captured every moment of the exhilarating set while Shan's dad slept in the minivan parked at the Arby's across the street. I bounced along with Princess Diaries jam "Blueside," felt embarrassingly dirty during "Shakin'" and decided I wanted my future boyfriend (who would obvs be Robert Carmine, duh) to serenade me with "If It Were Up to Me." I left with a signed CD and feelings my adolescent heart didn't know it could feel.

Who's the better Schwartzman: Robert or Jason? I'm willing to argue for either side.

And then six years passed. The heartsickness faded, the music got stale, and I moved on. But what else was I supposed to do? While Rooney had been poised on the brink of breaking big while riding the O.C. success craze, they subsequently misguided their career by delaying the sophomore album release by four years and taking opening slots for the Jonas Brothers and Kelly Clarkson — not exactly the artists a rock band needs to accumulate some credibility (although I'm not too cool to admit that I don't also enjoy a little sugary pop goodness every now and then).

So when I bought tickets to see Carmine (err... wait, I think he changed it back to Schwartzman?) and Co. play at Irving Plaza last Sunday, it was make or break. Either my faith would be restored in this band or I'd be forever jaded. Yes, that was the ultimatum I presented Rooney (and by presented, I mean told Shannon in line). Tough, but fair.

Umm... the only time I've ever envied Mischa Barton. Lucky girl!

And you know what, they did it. I'd forgotten how catchy their retro-rock sound is, how adorable those boys are and how much fun classic bubblegum pop is to bop along with. But besides all of that, what really made me a born-again was Rooney's self-awareness: Before playing a b-side track, Carmine addressed the crowd, asking if anyone knew the band had recorded two full albums between the debut and Calling the World, and then promised to never make fans wait four years for new material. They played a long set because this was Rooney's first headlining tour to support Calling the World — I know, WHAT? That's ridiculous. But here's a tip for next time boys: Don't end with a cover, even if it's a fist-pumping rendition of "Helter Skelter." You've got legit songs of your own. Play them.

xoxo

Susan (ah, arts blogging.  it's been too long, DI)

100 years...100 reasons to shut the hell up, already

Hellohellohello, your friendly A/C summer editor Anna here.

Actually, not feeling so friendly at the moment—I wiled away about 3.5 hours last night watching the "100 Best Songs of the 80's" countdown on VH1 and doing a bastardized form of liveblogging through text-message with friend and former DI-er Louis Virtel, only to find that, apparently, Def Leppard outranks Michael Jackson and Prince, "Thriller" doesn't make the Top Ten, and Bon Jovi is better than Journey, Madonna, Run-DMC, U2 and R.E.M. Not that I'm still upset or anything.

Phew. Anyway. I don't what is it that has countdowns and lists attracted to me (or vice versa, perhaps) lately, but in the midst of looking something up on the all-knowing Wiki last night, I stumbled across this, which I, a Cinema major and all-around movie geek, had been previously completely unaware—AFI's 10 Top 10.

Pardon my language, but come the hell on. According to that link, this is the 12th such list that the American Film Institute has done since beginning them in 1998 with the granddaddy of 'em all—"100 Years...100 Movies." I used to tune in breathlessly, not just for that one, but for "...Laughs," "...Thrills," "...Passions," "...Heroes and Villains." They were all pretty solid outings, or at least as solid as a pretty BS institution like the AFI's gotten to be, and at the very least they were super fun to watch, reminisce over, quote lines along with, and bicker with my watching companions.

Basically, I'm always in favor of things that put classic movies back in the public eye, and no matter how hokey the AFI stuff was, even at the start, it did that. Forgive me for sounding uber-lame, but if one person wondered who this Atticus Finch person was, outstripping Indiana Jones and James Bond and whatnot, and then went and watched To Kill A Mockingbird for the first time, then the whole thing is completely worth it.

This latest outing in nonsense is not worth it.

"10 Top 10," is, at the very start, annoyingly reductive and repetitive. The AFI has chosen ten genres, then listed the ten best films in its given genre, leaving no room or recognition for films that attempt to do more than one thing. Sure, Chinatown is a fantastic mystery film, but leaving it out of the "Gangster" genre is incorrect. It could also go ahead and fit into "Epics," if you ask me. "Romantic Comedies"? Okay, fine. But what do we do with all the amazing movies that have romance dripping from the screen, but don't make you feel like laughing—Casablanca for example, wouldn't have a spot in this ridiculous list.

Don't even get me started on the utterly bullshit "Animation" category.

"•List breakdown
Disney ruled the animation category with nine animated films that they either produced (seven) or released under their Walt Disney Pictures banner (two produced by Pixar). The only non-Disney cartoon is Shrek."

Oh, really?! I'm stunned. Utterly shocked that this giant corporation that, until extremely recently, has had a chokehold over the animation market in the only country in the running for this countdown "ruled the countdown." (Seriously though, if this was an international countdown, Miyazaki would have done some serious ass-kicking, or I'd be even more fired up than I am now, if you can even imagine it.)



Awesomer than many Disney films (why do you think they want to own the rights so badly?). And I say that as a Disney fan, former Girl Scout's honor.

And the top film is Snow White?! Seriously?? Has anyone at the AFI watched Snow White lately? Not only are all the messages in the film extremely questionable (not to get all feminist, horror of horrors), but that flick is straight-up boring as hell. Just because something's the first doesn't make it the best. Otherwise the best film on the original list when they started counting down ten years ago would have been The Birth of a Nation, and they would still be battling the NAACP over that.

Sigh. Now I'm all worked up again. Oh AFI. I don't like it when we fight like this. Let's just. Go back to promoting interest in old movies together, and restoring film stock, and it'll all be okay again. Okay.

—Anna

Summer in the City

Ok I know, horribly kitchy title, but it's the best I got. It has been a long, long week as we all know but it seems that relief is finally making its way to our sleepy little town. One of the greatest losses, I feel, incurred through the flood is that what was once green and flush is now brown and mush. We have lost our summer color. However (oh, there's always an "however" is there not?), we can bring some of that lost vibrancy back into everyone's lives via our clothing.

Courtney Lyn Clarke, 22, Recent graduate in 3-D Design and Art History, sets the most high of examples in how to bring effervescence to a subtle style.

How would you describe your style?
Japanese Nantucket.

What are you doing out walking at 9:00pm on a Wednesday?
I’m walking to a friend’s house. But shouldn’t I be asking you the same?

Good point. I’m working though, for the DI. Do you guys have similar styles?
Sorta. She’s cool. But she’s more Nantucket than Japanese. It’s like she’s a hipster from the Hamptons.

What’s the story behind the clip?
I bought it at Artifacts and it’s awesome. It was made in Montana and made by Indians. And I thought it was Cowgirl-Harajuku.

Do you have a favorite designer or artist?
Oh God. Oh, I really like Maria Filo. It was just this little shop I found in Rio. It’s more ready-to-wear.

What do you think of the flood?
It’s awesome. It gives me a rush. Tornado, earthquake, fire, flood. I’ve survived all four in the past three years in Iowa City.

Through bold colors and strong contrasts in solids, her outfit is attention-grabbing but classy. Fun and also practical accessories make her look whimsical and youthful, without looking like she's a mannequin from the Juniors Department. Not only that, Courtney's personality shined not only through her clothes but also through the interview. She was composed but light-hearted- what every girl should strive for.

So, keep it light, keep it fresh, and always keep it you. Love to you all. Hope to see you soon.

-A

p.s. 9 and 1/2 weeks is an awesome movie- hyper-sexualized 80s gold.