In Defense of Taylor Swift

Unless you live under a rock, you know about Taylor Swift's new album. It was released on Monday, and with the album have come the haters.

I have seen tons of hate towards my girl Taylor. And I take it way more personally than I probably should (seeing as I myself am not Taylor Swift). The hate is coming from all sides. It's one thing to hate on her music, because everyone has an opinion, but what gets me is people that are hating on her persona. They see her good girl image as just an act: that she's fake, immature, etc. I think that in the age of social media, Twitter and Instagram especially, an image like that is pretty hard to create if it's not at least based on something real. Maybe that's just me being naive.

I saw one article calling her a feminist's worst nightmare. Whoa there. I think that's a little harsh, and I beg to differ. I love Taylor Swift, because I feel like she stands for the same kind of feminism that I do. The kind where just because you can wear something revealing or outrageous, doesn't mean you have to. The kind where being soft and kind is embraced and seen as strength, not weakness. What's wrong with being a good girl? What's wrong with appearing on talk shows in knee length skirts? How does that make you someone to look down on? Who do we look up to now? Girls that flip off paparazzi at baseball games. Nice.

So say what you will about Taylor. Hate her music, but don't hate her. Remember that there are girls sitting at home wearing cat socks (read: me) who look up to her. Who see a little bit of themselves in her and hear their stories in her songs. Who feel that falling too fast or too hard isn't a sin, and that being you is the best you can be, even if it means laughing at your own jokes and baking by yourself. 

RIP Nora Ephron

"Sometimes I wonder about my life. I lead a small life - well, valuable, but small - and sometimes I wonder, do I do it because I like it, or because I haven't been brave? So much of what I see reminds me of something I read in a book, when shouldn't it be the other way around? I don't really want an answer. I just want to send this cosmic question out into the void. So good night, dear void."
-Kathleen Kelly, You've Got Mail

Goodbyes Suck

I'm not good at goodbyes. That's not a secret. When my friend went into the MTC I was crying so much I had to get escorted out of the building by the little old grandmas. I bawled halfway through the security line at the Salt Lake airport before my internship last summer. So yeah, I'm just really not good at leaving.

I had to say goodbye to my best friend today. And it's kind of the worst.

Because in my super senior year, Ryan was literally the glue that held my hot mess life together. I really couldn't ask for a better person to have around.

I mean, who else would deliver New York Times for me when I was too tired? Or let me steal his jackets for days at a time? Or always let me use his chapstick and drink his water? Or warm up my feet and hands when they're cold (aka every minute of every day)? Or go through my box of chocolates and take a little bite of each one so I knew what flavor it is? Or bring me Diet Coke when I'm having a rough day? Or let me use him as a pillow during movies or road trips or most life situations? Or understands that when I say "Get these Cadbury Eggs away from me" I really mean "Take a couple out of the bag and give me one every couple of minutes." Or not get mad that there are constantly size-6 footprints on the inside of his car because I like putting my feet on the dashboard?

So if you happen to be traveling through Alaska this summer and see a baldy with chicken legs and no butt who wears a calculator watch and a fork ring, give him a huge hug for me because I miss him already.

Happy Birthday Mom

 

 (Ignore whatever is on my dad's face. I'm pretty sure the frame this picture was in was dirty)

Today's my mom's birthday. My mom is awesome. You know the whole shortening words trend? (Presh, totes, etc.) My mom started that way before y'all. I learned to shorten words at my mother's knee. My mom calls Hobby Lobby "Hob Lob." She uses the word "generoo" for generous.

I am eternally grateful to my mom for telling me in no uncertain terms that I could NOT cut my hair like Mary-Kate and Ashley from "Passport to Paris." All I wanted to do was cut the front section of my hair an inch shorter than the rest so I could do the awesome "ponytail with the bangs parted in the middle" look pictured below. I thought my mom was so mean, but now I feel like I owe her my life.

 I remember when I was in 7th grade and my mom took me to get my first purse. We went to Target and spent over an hour looking at all the purses and wallets to fit my lip glosses and middle school student ID. We were cracking up the whole time. We finally decided on this black one with a flower border. It was made out of wool or something and to this day we call it the "dog hair" purse. Speaking of Target, when we finally got one in Arkansas I'm pretty sure my mom wept tears of gratitude and joy.

My mom's the one who took me to the mall when my senior prom date backed out on me a week before the dance. And my mom's the one who helped me get ready for prom when he came back around. My mom's the one who bought me two pairs of the most beautiful Steve Madden chunky shoes that I'm pretty sure made me the envy of McNair Middle School (at least in my mind).

My taught me about keeping it together and being sparkly. She taught me about serving. I remember calling her and she was driving through a trailer park trying to find this lady to visit teach. My mom is the best teacher. Literally. She can just explain things and engage her students. She taught me to learn to love reading, and now even writing.

I love you mom. You're the best.

RIP Whitney Houston

Today is a sad day. One, I got home from a whirlwind trip to Vegas and two because Whitney Houston died. Whitney was a little before my time, but I've always had a special spot in my heart for her. So many special memories have Whitney attached to them. I went through a total Whitney Houston phase a couple years ago. It's just that nothing really speaks to me the way that "I Will Always Love You" does (you know you've sang "I hope life treats you kind, and I hope you have all you dreamed of" to yourself in the mirror using your thumb as a microphone. Just me? Ok.)My sisters and I would dance around the kitchen to that song while we were doing the dishes. Ryan and I spent a solid two hours watching 80s music videos and his favorite was "I Wanna Dance With Somebody" because of Whitney's fancy footwork. I've never seen The Bodyguard, but if I was Whitney I would have totally fallen for Kevin Costner too. On my 20th birthday party we sang karaoke at Applebee's. There was a 50-year-old lady singing "I Have Nothing" like it was the only song that ever meant anything. I'll admit I got goosebumps. (A homeless guy also got up and sang "My Heart Will Go On," but I'll save that story for when Celine dies. I don't want to tempt fate.) RIP Whitney. You will be sorely missed. Flawless headband, Whit.

Taylor Swift for Vogue

I love Taylor Swift. I'm not afraid to say it. I love her sad songs and I love her love songs. I love her style and that sometimes she dresses like a grandma, like me. I love that she is three months younger than me, to the day. I love her new bangs. I love that she's a hugger and didn't really fit in in middle school. But mostly I love that she's managed to stay classy despite being in the public eye for over five years.

Taylor's going to be on the cover of Vogue in February. In her interview, she talks about "fame, ambition and the joys of being on her own."

The writer followed Taylor around fashion show houses in New York, interviewing her and watching how she talked to the designer. He called her "reflexively generous." I would love to have someone describe me as reflexively generous.

He observed that Taylor is: "(1) smarter than the average bear; (2) excessively gracious; (3) happy to talk a blue streak about music; (4) preternaturally ambitious." Even without a full-day interview, I think you can tell that about her. And that's exactly why I admire her so much. That and her sample size body.

The writer recalled an interview Taylor had with Katie Couric a while back. Katie asked Taylor when her next scandal would be. She answered:

“I think, for me, the bigger pitfall is losing your self-awareness. Even though I am at a place where my dresses are really pretty and the red carpets have a lot of bright lights and I get to play to thousands of people . . . you have to take that with a grain of salt. The stakes are really high if you mess up, if you slack off and don’t make a good record, if you make mistakes based on the idea that you are larger than life and you can just coast. If you start thinking you’ve got it down, that’s when you run into trouble—either by getting complacent or becoming mouthy. And nobody likes that.”

We're all rooting for you, Taylor.

Daddy

I was sitting at Wingstop (classy) with Kimmi when I got this text from my dad:

Missa I want you to know how proud I am of you and I think you're wonderful. This is weird but when you were a tiny I would rock you in my arms and whisper in your ear "you can be anything you want, you could be President of the United States." I don't think I've ever told anyone about our one way conversations before. Love you.

This is coming from the man who gave me my looks, my middle name, and my low tolerance for spicy foods. The man who gave me nicknames like Missa-lafa-lafalis and Rascally Rabbit. The man who came humble beginnings to graduate with honors from one of the best construction management programs in the country. The man who came to every one of my lacrosse practices and will quickly back me up when I brag about how good I was. The man who taught me how to throw a spiral and pitch a baseball (I have a good arm and it comes straight from the old man). The man's man who has been known to paint his daughters' fingernails. The man who has refined his pancake recipe and technique for years and has ruined Bisquick for his family forever. The man who had moves in the '80s and isn't afraid to bust them out from time to time. The man who is known to quote a Bill Murray movie, Emperor's New Groove, and Pride and Prejudice. In the same conversation. The man who taught me how to drive in his little red work truck after my mom lost patience. The man who would sing either Saturday's Warrior or The Go-Go's with me on the way to seminary (the truck didn't have a CD player and those were the only tapes we had.) The man who got us up early for scripture study every morning of my high school career. The man who read his scriptures every morning and was known to fall asleep during prayers. The man who taught me about getting to know your professors and asking them for help. The man who gave me a blessing the day before every school year. The man who didn't have a father of his own but somehow became the best father a girl could ask for.




I love you, Daddy.


Side note:I used to think it was weird that everyone said I looked like my dad. He's a boy. I'm a girl. What were they trying to say about me? Or him for that matter? But then I saw a picture of my dad in the 70s with his long beach boy hair. Touché.

Hannah Marin: A Tribute

Hannah, my best friend of four years and roommate of three is graduating tomorrow and I thought I'd do a little tribute. I believe you have friends, and then you have best friends. The kind that make you get teary-eyed while watching Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants or Bride Wars. Hannah is one of those.

According to Facebook, Hannah and I have 143 mutual friends, 11 "likes" in common (Kanye West and My Fair Lady among them) and 354 pictures together. We also have an enduring love for Stephen Colletti, a good dance party, and Taylor Swift. We have been to Vegas 5 times together. Our favorite foods include salad, SmartFood cheese popcorn, and Sammy's fries. Some popular Hannah and Melissa catchphrases include "Born This Way" and "on the reg." We do, however, have differing opinions on the Lakers, the song "Landslide," and whether Landon Donovan is still hot post-World Cup.


Debatable

Hannah is very unique. She writes in her journal every night (which is very useful if you want her to recount in exact detail the Vegas trip of April 09). Her dream is to marry a Kennedy and she's probably one of the only people over the age of 5 who calls underwear "undies" (Full disclosure: after 4 years of friendship I do too). She follows Jersey Shore religiously and one time she had a solo dance party to "Who Let the Dogs Out" at 12:30 am.

In all seriousness, Hannah is amazing and I couldn't ask for a better best friend. She stands up for what is right, even if it's unpopular.

Hannah has always been there for me. I can think of a million times in our summers apart when she called me exactly when I to be called. We had a telepathic "best friend" unity that saved me from dealing with annoying people, crappy jobs, and the series finale of The Hills alone.

Looking back on our four years, I can think of a million things Hannah has done for me to be a great friend. How many times did she listen while I talked about every last detail of some interaction I had with some random boy? How many times did she assure me that "no, that dress does not make you look like you have love handles?"

I think when you have a best friend who's as loyal and understanding and amazing as Hannah, you get lazy. You stop thinking about what you can do for them, because they don't really ask you to. Hannah had her heart broken a few months ago. I found myself trying to do anything I could to help. Ice cream? Send mean messages? Anything? And in true Hannah form, she didn't let me. She did, however, make me scream my least favorite word (jeggings) out of our bedroom window. A low point. One because I had vowed to myself never to say that word, two because there was nothing I could do to help her, three because I even had to ask what I could do. I should have known without asking. I promise to be better about that in the future.

So tomorrow she graduates from college with a degree in philosophy. She's moving off to DC to work and have a million single college-grad adventures. I'm going to miss her (and her clothes) more than anything. But if we have learned anything from The Sisterhood, we'll never really be apart. She'll still be just a phone call away when I have some grievance or want to talk about how good Chili's sounds.



"Sometimes in life there really are bonds formed that can never be broken. Sometimes you really can find that one person who will stand by you no matter what. Maybe you will find it in a spouse and celebrate it with your dream wedding. But there's also the chance that the one person you can count on for a lifetime, the one person who knows you sometimes better than you know yourself is the same person who's been standing beside you all along."
I did just drop some Bride Wars on you guys. Gag if you want, but my blog, my rules.