Where Are They Now?

It is hard to escape the news in the age of Twitter (or 'Tweeter' as my mom endearing called it until I ghost-posted the material for the acclaimed @Donna_Gilchrist feed), customized Google readers and the integration of the '#' function on Facebook. Whether we like it or not we are constantly bombarded with mainstream information. Inevitably this means the 'trends' dominate our body of contemporaneous knowledge. Thanks, in no small part, to CNN's ceaseless coverage of MH370, all I know about the world right now is there's a missing plane and we can't find that shit. This is a highly embarrassing reality. Have you had enough of my news-related platitudes yet? Good, me too. 

My blog's guiding ethos has everything to do with the unknown unknowns. I want to expose you to information you didn't even know you needed. Is that Orwellian? Shut up. You're here now. Welcome aboard.

With this spirit in mind I present to you Where Are They Now?, a catch-up guide for everyone you need to be thinking about more often than you currently do. 

Herman Cain
Though it seems everyone except Tim Pawlenty had their turn as the trendy darling of the 2012 Republican Primary Race, Herm was far and away the most important. A business executive/former CEO of Godfather's Pizza, syndicated Tea Party-oriented columnist and champion of the famous '9-9-9' tax plan (which, as it turns out, was NOT a Domino's large pizza coupon--disappointing). Despite his impressive pedigree he suspended his race to the Oval Office following allegations of sexual misconduct. Ever since there's been virtual radio silence. 

But according to Pink News (not to be confused with P!nk News, which if I had to guess would just link directly to the pop star's Twitter feed), Herman Cain most recently made headlines when the editor-in-chief of his blog compared members of the LGBT community with the Borgs from Strek Trek. Granted, I haven't seen Star Trek--so the Borgs could be a perfectly nice cyborg collective. But I have to imagine this is not the case.

So I guess he's doing...not so great. However he is NOT misconducting himself sexually--let's stick to the facts here. 

Mischa Barton
I don't care where she is. I've hated her ever since my male high school peers expected all the girls to look like the girls galavanting the OC (which is, for those living under a rock, the REAL Orange County). I can only think of one girl who could psychically rival Barton and I don't even know where THAT girl is. Mischa died in a fictional car crash--let's keep her that way. 

Kesha
With a heavy heart I left out the iconic $ from her name because in the end we need to respect each other's identity choices. Despite my benevolence I have just one thing to say: WHY WOULD YOU THIS TO ME?

Kesha has recently emerged from rehab all coherent and reformed. Great. So Proud. But this was my own Minsky Moment. Can you even fathom the time, energy and adoration I invested into loving/promoting Kesha EXACTLY as she was? All the speculation of sainthood, all the market hype--it's GONE. I get that you had a problem that needed solving--but why the name change? I was going to write an entire post dedicated to the aftermath of $-gate, but ultimately decided against it. You HURT ME KES(?)A. 

Tom from Myspace
In your Top 8, by default. 

and by the way if I wasn't on your Top 8 then why are you even reading my blog? Just GO. 

Clay Aiken
I'm sure you all remember Clay--the runner-up from a star-studded second season of American Idol? Maybe you remember him losing to Ruben Studdard--the voice behind what the Rolling Stone has called the "Greatest Song of the Millenium" "Sorry for 2004" ? 

So am I the only one who wasn't aware that Clay Aiken is running for Congress? I have to say I'm rooting for Clay in what is sure to be an uphill battle for a House seat in a traditionally conservative North Carolina district. Can't get enough of a good underdog story--and honestly, he's had enough struggle in his life. I mean he came in SECOND PLACE on American Idol. He's 100% ready to lead the nation.

Aaliyah
Heaven. RIP.

Sporty Spice
How did I not notice she had and continues to have horrific teeth? I think that sums up her Where Are They Now? description. Somewhere still having awful teeth. 

Get invisalign, Girlfriend. 

I hope you feel adequately caught up on America's finest and brightest (except for Sporty Spice--she does not belong to us). I realize I've had quite the hiatus since my last post. I hope to not be away from my blog long enough for someone to write a catch-up post about MY life. If someone feels the need to go this route can you please refer to me as Alli$on? It's my only request.

Editor's Note: Ruben Studdard did not kill someone over a sandwich--despite reports saying otherwise. And by reports I mean my sister told me that and I didn't automatically dismiss the idea. 

Dear Google

An open letter to Google:

Querido Google,

First of all let me just say that I'm really big into the Google Doodles thing--and I was especially fond of your Oct. 27 choice to commemorate the Sugar Loaf Cable Car's 100th birthday. So cute, so cultured. I digress...

Google, have you ever felt alone, defenseless and scared? Those feelings only begin to describe how I feel when my GMail crashes, and sometimes I feel as though you purposely shut down Gmail/GChat capabilities just to remind us who run the world. It's not nice. Have you no sense of corporate social responsibility?

On Monday, the date of the most recent large-scale GMail outage, you KNEW those of us in the working world were facing a tough week. With the impending Mayan World Expiration Date approaching, many were grappling with the idea that perhaps nothing (id est: deadlines) matters anymore. Then, more than ever, we needed to be able to GChat our friends/loved ones to discuss the way forward in the event of an apocalypse. 

Nobody buys into your 'routine update gone wrong' explanation. We know what you're doing, and if you keep doing this we may all switch to Bing. Just kidding.


Love you, mean it,

Allison

Marketing

I'm either very emotional or I'm everyone's target market. Or could I be both?

I have always felt disproportionately affected by commercials and ad campaigns that manipulate viewers' heart strings to make them (me!) think that they (I!) have a MORAL obligation to give/spend money. No ad/campaign was more effective in this regard than the notorious BC SPCA campaign that ultilized Sarah McLachlin's 'Arms of an Angel' song to rip my fucking heart out, throw it on the ground curb stomp it and force me to take in every single stray animal that I could find. Granted, this probably influenced my family's reasons to take in all stray cats, including my BFFL, Crusty, which is a good thing. Still, not all the glitters is gold.

I've sobered up a bit in my older age, and by that I mean I can successfully watch an animal cruelty commercial without necessarily leaving my home to go 'trolling for strays. But now it seems that I'm now more affected by the notion of sentimentality. Perhaps Don Draper said it best in this scene where he pitches to the camera company. The best marketing is when you convince the consumer that they can have a, "deep[er] bond with the product, nostalgia...it's delicate, but potent."

But why does the Samsung Galaxy Note Commercial feat. Lebron give me chills...? I mean, I'm happy the King finally has his ring and all--but Jesus. And can Dell just QUIT IT with the 'Meet Billy: The Boy Who Captured the Stars' ad??? Why am I considering going back to PC life? And WHY is the instrumental, iPhone 4s inspired version of Fun's 'We Are Young' the principal reason why I haven't?

This is a plea to everyone I know in marketing, advertising or product management. Please, please, please stop making me cry and buy my feelings.

Many the Miles

Other than the latest installment of my Sara Bareilles-inspired shower solo series , 'Many the Miles' is a really fitting mantra for me--a girl who measures her life in sneakers.

Nike, Adidas, Asics--I've been around the block. I still have the pair of sneakers I bought just before studying abroad in South America. Like a lame-wad, I wrote the names of all the cities and places I ran--including the prize Maratón de Santiago.

My Chilean host mom and I ran together most every day, and one of the first times we did I asked her how she was able to handle 9 or 10 mile runs sans music. She informed me that all she needed was "la música de mis pies," to which I replied (inwardly, of course), "Unless my feet start playing Robert Randolph and the Family Band 'Ain't Nothin' Wrong That', I'm not going to be satisfied with la música de mis pies."

Years after, I get what she meant. Running, for me, has become an intensely intimate experience. It is the one part of my day during which I rely only on myself to get where I'm going and accomplish what I want to accomplish. I answer to no one. I leave my iPhone and Blackberry home where they belong, and I get to head out and race myself to wherever I'm going. 

The other day, for the very first time, I left my iPod at home with the rest of my gadgets.

If you have the ability to stomach cardio without music, I highly recommend trying to do so. It forces you to really think about the things you normally don't have time to think about or even want to think about. Am I okay with where I've been and where I am at 23? Am I okay with where I see myself going? Am I happy? Is Miley Cyrus talented? Do I have enough cat food at home for Ollie? 

I was fortunate enough to finish my run and reflect on the fact that the answer to every question I asked myself was a firm 'yes'--and I only have myself and my new Nike Frees to thank for that. I don't know how many miles I'll run throughout the rest of my lifetime, but I'm so, so excited. It's an amazing feeling. Thank you, sneakers :).

(Note: Listen to this Cyrus' rendition of 'Look What They've Done to my Song' if you're not already on Team Miley).

Pandora

Today I had a falling out with my Pandora and it wasn't pretty.

Normally she (yes, I've personified my Pandora) seems to understand me better than anyone else, but today was a musical disaster. I really thought we had worked through our issues. Excuse me while I vent.


I don't have time to pay a ton of attention to her, so the beginning was a little rough. My go-to station at work is my 'Adele' creation. We had our fits and starts, but Pandora eventually learned that I like to have actual Adele songs at only interspersed intervals. I can't handle all of the heartache entrenched in her lyrics. I mean, all 'Make You Feel My Love' makes me feel is that I want to die.


I have spent months nurturing my work Pandora and so I REALLY didn't appreciate a live rendition of Beyoncé's 'If I Were a Boy'. I was aggravated, no horrified, that Pandora thought I would even consider giving this monstrosity the coveted thumbs up. Bey, you my girl, but this song is atrocious. Good thing you did a very magical rendition of the Etta James' "At Last" and that I'm still reeling from the loss of one of the great female vocalists of our time. I'm vulnerable.


'If I Were a Boy' was not my only issue with Pandora today. I felt as though she was out to get me. I can only imagine her Cheshire Cat smile when she selected One Direction 'What Makes You Beautiful' for my listening displeasure. 


Did I do something wrong? Here I thought Pandora and I were ride or die. You think you know someone...

It was the Best of Times, it was the Worst of Times

As I tweeted a picture of the Veggie Tales fruit snacks that I had for dinner, I got to thinking about technology and self-expression. The interplay between the two has certainly progressed throughout my life. I would be remiss to not dedicate my inaugural blog post to this topic, and it would be a further disservice to followers if I did not discuss something that inevitably exacerbated ALL of our growing pains...

AIM   One of my favorite conversation starters is to ask someone what their AIM screen name was. Seriously, try it. The answer is inevitably hilarious. In my case, it is a rarity to find someone with a worse SN in the closet than mine. I was "DusTBunniE29g." While most other girls were Princess whatever or something Angel....I was a dustbunnie, and I don't know why.

Once we all got on AIM, the social dynamic in the middle/high school shifted dramatically. Your choices in font and color became your identity. Relationships began and ended over the internet. A simple copy and paste job from a 'private' conversation could ruin you, and if that happened to you, you could at least still be friends with SmarterChild (until he started charging $, that is). "OMG" and "LOL" became a way to express extreme emotion, even if you were just staring stone-faced at the computer. <3 became a symbol of love, and so it necessarily followed that </3 became a symbol of heart break, loss, or a big fight with your BFF that you and said friend were both too stubborn to apologize for. The anatomy of the AIM user's profile is fascinating.

AIM Profile

The AIM Profile was a sacred space. It was each user's chance to really show everyone who they were. For a girl, the recipe for the base of an acceptable AIM profile was strict and unforgiving. First, you take your name preceded AND followed by a SYMMETRICAL (this is key) series of *~*~*. Your name was typically followed by your relationship status. The standard choices were: "Single", "Taken", or "Single....but looking."

After the base was established, users usually took the opportunity to exercise a degree of creativity. You could list your hobbies. Something akin to "LAX 4 LYF" or "Soccer rules!" could be acceptable, if executed properly. Shout-outs to your main girls and/or Dave Matthews Band quotes were timeless choices. For the misunderstood AIM user, a Brand New / Yellowcard quote followed by an ever mysterious ellipses would suffice in ensuring that you appeared to be both artsier and deeper than your mere mortal, immature classmates.

(ex: "Fix me to a chain around your neck and wear me like a nickel...")

In between different profiles, it was common to see an "Under Construction" message as the place holder. I always found this to be helpful.

Away Messages

Surely one could not be expected to ALWAYS be at the computer tending to the needs of AIM buddies. In the event that a user had to go eat dinner or do homework, the away message was there to alert everyone. The "brb" away message, though uninspired and boring, got the job done. If you were at the movies and/or TGIFridays with your besties, it was crucial to make certain that all of your buddies knew you were out enjoying yourself while they weren't. If you were angry or upset about something, your away message could be used as a tool to reach out to people. After all, in the end we all just wanted someone to send us a "lylas"/"lylab" during trying times. John Mayer or Maroon 5 seemed to be the standard choices for attention-seekers.

(ex. "I don't mind spending everyday out on your corner in the pouring rain. Look for the girl with a broken smile, ask her if she wants to stay a while...")

  
"I am away from my computer right now."

Everyone knows what this means. You messed up BIG TIME if you were fighting with someone and suddenly this pops up in response to your last message. The Times New Roman font, the Size 12, the black font, the period at the end of the sentence--all tell-tale signs that your conversation is officially over. Person X literally has nothing to say to you. You have inhibited Person X's ability to compose a witty and cool message. He/she wished to be curt and emotionless. You took the color and cool font out of their life for the rest of the night, at least. Depending on the circumstance, this type of away message could signal that your relationship with Person X was irreconcilable. 

The Actual Conversation

princessxo: hey, sup?

GatoradeRush89: nm, u?

princessxo: sh, jc

GatoradeRush89: cool cool

If your conversation ever managed to move beyond the obligatory opening, you were in the clear. Normally you would then proceed to talk about what's going on at school or have a somewhat deep conversation about life. It was delightful.

 

Like any great tragic hero, AIM had a irreconcilable flaw--users could not post photo albums to portray to AIM Buddies everywhere that they were having more fun than their friends at college. AIM followed behind Rome, Greece, and the Ottomans into history as one of the great empires that inevitably fell. We have since moved into a new phase -- which I have affectionately coined "Pax Facebook."