Onward And Upward (Some Pre-Winter, Pre-Moving Thoughts):

 ~Why did I spend $8 on a potato-chip chocolate bar at the bookstore when a bag of Lays and a Dairy Milk is probably $3? I'll tell you why: white privilege. That, or just regular, run-of-the-mill stupidity.

~It's humbling to realize that you just went well over your data plan because you spent all last month studying Phillip Bailey and Phil Collins' 'Easy Lover' in depth. On the real, though, those two look like they were having a fucking blast every single time they sang together.

~I sold my house! I hope the new owners like lonely, mentally ill neighbors that reek of stale smoke, and a very loud child with very Christian parents stomping above their head all fucking day. Actually, scratch that, I could care less if they like it here. My heart's not that big.

~I decided to join every other human under 74 in the country and cut off my home phone, which is awesome because I still have yet to figure out how to hold my iPhone in a way allows me to be audible to the human on the other end. I spend most of my conversations with the other person saying things like "speak up", or "are you holding the phone weird?", or "can you call me on your home phone?".

~I was given a free on-demand rental from the fine people at Shaw, and somehow convinced myself that the most worthy rental would be "Unaccompanied Minors". I'm not sure how to describe how I felt just after I pressed the 'rent' button on my remote. Shame, remorse, and genuine excitement to see how those kids get stuck in an airport over Christmas.

~Once again, I hired movers. Fuck your massage. Fuck your facials and manicures. There is no better way to pamper yourself than to watch a coupla dudes lug your boxes and suitcases and heavy Ikea book cases while you slam an eggnog latte and listen to the Dance Mix 1992 CD on the Discman you found while packing.

~I am going to be back in 1996 for two weeks. That is so say, I will be without internet while I set up my new, awesome life. See you in the new year, Zuckerberg.

~sarah p.

p.s. I love you guys! Happy 2016!

Jams Of The Week (Moving On Up Edition):

                                           
 

~sarah p.

The Five Best Things About New Jack Swing:

1. The Synchronized Dances.

There was always one member of the group that was significantly better at moving. You could always tell who this was, as they'd be front and center in every video. Most videos had several choreographed routines that followed a similar formula: Running Man, into some sort of mild popping motion, back to Running Man, some awkward pelvic grinding, and, you guessed it, finish out with some more Running Man.

2. The Clothes.

For the men, it was slightly over-sized matching suits in jewel-tones, collared shirts tucked into jeans, and so. many. fucking. vests. For the ladies? Crop tops, weird-ass velvet hats, and the biggest jeans you could find, cinched tightly with a belt.

3. The Sex Jams.

If there was one thing New Jack Swing was really trying to communicate to the world, it was that the world should be talking about fuckin' a hell of a lot more.

4. The Remixes.

 Did you know that SWV basically invented the remix album? It's truuueeeeeee!!!

5. The Sincerity.

There is not another musical style that so severely conveys deep feelings. When someone is singing about a breakup, they are not fucking around. Their heart is on the ground, in the dirt, and somebody has just trampled all over it. When they are growling out a sex jam, you can just tell they've got major bone. There was not a hint of sarcasm in the whole thing. Just pure, gut-wrenching feeling, and that's why I loved it so dearly.

~sarah p.

Jams Of The Week (The Boys Edition):

~sarah p.