Coming out of the closet.

I admit it. I still love Mariah. I don't care, she's still hot. She's still classy, she's still saying things like "You're delusional" and "all fired up with your Napoleon complex" in her songs and it sounds hot. She came back from a breakdown, a bad album (hello Charmbracelet) and an ill-advised film (Glitter?). The woman adapts and I love her.

I especially love this:

Not the official video, but it's the only version of the song I could embed. I like the comment: "poor Mariah she is still a silly waitress."

So anyway. The secret's out.

I DO exist!

Hello, my namesake, Rachel Grey, daughter of Cyclops and Jean Grey. How bad ass is she. I've known about my namesake's existence for quite awhile, but never felt the need to look her up until my brother came across her in one of his issues of Uncanny X-Men.

So there is my doppelganger. There should be a word for the you that you are as a superhero.

wind(ing).

The fruits of my visit home have been plenty. Some nuggets include:

-a hike with my brother up to a waterfall that entailed me trying to cross a creek by balancing on a log. We'll say that it ended with me slamming my face into a rock, banging up my leg, filling my shoes with water and getting algae all over my shirt.

-impromptu visit to the town of my birth, which involved fifteen minutes of driving around trying to find a bathroom. The park is much smaller than I remember it being.

-reliving my pre-adolescent/adolescent years by reading old journals. For a few days there, I felt neurotic, insecure and hormonal. Oh wait -- I think that's just my PMS. HA.

-deciding that coming back for a month and a half is far too long.

Though the past month has been excruciating, I will say that it's given me perspective. It's reminded me of who I was and who I am, and that's what I needed.

Now I just have to survive 2 more weeks...

i <3 women.

especially these ones:



God, I love female badass-ery. It makes me want to cry tears of joy. Maybe one day my sarcasm will allow me that.

lolligagging.

I should probably stop spending my evenings looking at pictures of my friends' babies on facebook. I'm such a sucker. Kittens and babies.

But really... really, there's nothing wrong with loving kittens and babies. Loving is okay.

And Michael... I'll love you forever.

Toward the light.

Man, I need to read me a New York Times. And fast.

Having coverage of Farrah Fawcett's "last hours" on The View, complete with montages and interviews with Barbara Walters just isn't cutting it. In fact, it makes me a little nauseous. Yes, let's televise someone's journey toward the light, shall we? And let's also talk about how her son has "addiction issues" while she's dying, and let's also talk about how her family refuses to tell her that her son, along with having "addictions" was also in jail.

Let's all remember Farrah for what she really stood for: feathered hair. (Kidding!)

Rest in peace, Farrah. You will be missed.

The wonder of summer

My summer obsessions include the following:

1. Martha Reeves and the Vandellas. After my Motown summer class, I've concluded that Martha Reeves would kick Diana Ross's ass any day. Seriously though, Martha's voice is amazing. If you haven't heard her before, check out "(Love is Like A) Heatwave" and "Come and Get These Memories". Youtube her too. Incredible.


2. Smokey Robinson & the Miracles. What I love about Smokey is his incredible voice.
Check out "Ooo Baby Baby" for reference.


3. Wonder Woman. Mostly because of my recent foray into Mortal Kombat vs. DC Universe, but also because I'm beginning to love goddesses.


4. New Young Pony Club's Fantastic Playroom. I realize I'm about two years late on this one, and I don't give a shit. I still love it and I'm listening to it forever.


In other news though, I am back with the parents in Nevada. It's good to see mountains again, although the whole we-don't-get-the-New-York-Times thing is a little old. Hopefully a trip to the beach will be in order soon because I just bought 4 bathing suits for no particular reason, other than Victoria's Secret made them look irresistible. I may or may not have a problem.