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It Happened to Me: I’m Fat, Love to Dance and it Blows Peoples’ Minds!

19 Feb

I love to dance. I also love to eat. What happens when you combine these two things? A fat dancing queen. Which is exactly what I am. I love to bust a move when given the chance whether it means I’m doing a not-so-subtle two step down the cereal isle at the grocery store or workin’ it like it’s my job at Zumba. Some of the best times I can remember have involved me listening to the jams of my choice and breaking it down with friends (including ones I arrived at the scene with or new ones I made on the dance floor). So why am I telling you this? Well, for starters I was moved by some reaction pieces to an article recently posted on XOJane entitled ‘It Happened to Me: There Are No Black People In My Yoga Classes and I’m Suddenly Feeling Uncomfortable With It” In the article, the writer (a thin, white woman) explains her reaction to, for the first time, having a curvacious black woman in her class. I don’t go into details about what she says because, quite honestly, it gives me a headache. What I do want to go into, however, is a reaction piece I read. In “I’m a Big Black Girl Around Small White People and I’m Suddenly Feeling Uncomfortable With It: My Response to xoJane,” writer CeCe Olisa discuses her experience in a mostly white yoga class. What jumped out at me in the article was the expectation that, because she was larger, she wouldn’t be able to do the poses and that when she did she was greeted with praise because she defied the expectation. Being a larger lady myself, I can relate to CeCe’s experience quite a bit.

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Further Proof That Chris Hemsworth Is The Ideal Mate for the Modern Day Cave Woman

18 Nov

His genes are STRONG! Look at this picture of him and his family. His daughter looks like a tiny baby girl version of HIM! THEY HAVE THE EXACT SAME FACE! (Also his wife is stunning. KILL ME!)


Not only is he clearly fertile (as proven by the existence of his child) but this is a man who could propagate the species in the event of a zombie apocalypse. And even if he couldn’t, I wouldn’t mind watching him try! He’s already adding to the population of beautiful blond Norse godlike folk on this planet with the help of his equally perfect wife. Now if you’ll excuse me, I am going to go and eat my feelings as I cry over this perfect blond family.

An Actually Realistic List of How You Know You’re Best Friends

25 Oct

I am obsessed with reading listicles on the internet.  I always get that feeling of “OMG YES, I THOUGHT I WAS THE ONLY ONE THAT DID THAT — I’M NOT THE WIERDO I THOUGHT I ALWAYS WAS, BUT RATHER I’M A NORMAL HUMAN BEING!”

That feeling is very reassuring.  But, given that this is in fact, a blog with my best friend, I got all sorts of sads reading the other listicles of markers of Best-Friendship.  Suddenly feeling like a failure that Candace and I have never braided each other’s hair while topless in a walk-in closet or something like that.  Did this mean that Candace and I were in fact, not best friends?

Luckily, through the following 10 reasons/markers of Best Friendship… I’ve reassured myself, that Candace and I are best friends indeed … just probably not normal ones.

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Listening to White Lies Makes Me Feel Like I’m 15 Again

9 Oct

There is nothing in this world that  brings me greater happiness than CVS coupons,  purchase something marked as full price to later have it ring up at sale price (score!,) and above all else, music. Homegirl loves her music. As you may or may not know, The Killers are my favorite band. I’ve seen them live upwards of 15 times since 2006 and no, it never gets old. Seeing the SAME band 15+ times might seem like a lot but compared to some other super fans, that is just the tip of the obsessive Iceberg.  Thanks to this obsession, I fancy myself a concert goer. This past week I was lucky enough to be invited to see White Lies at Bowery Ballroom. Now, maybe it’s just because I’ve been living under my Killers rock for the last few years but I’d never heard of these dudes. I’m one of those people that, when I get into something, I REALLY get into it. My love becomes so overpowering for that one thing that there is barely any room left over for anything else. For example, having been obsessed with Bollywood for the last few years, I am really not up to speed on the Hollywood movies that are coming out (though from what I hear I’m not missing much.) What I’m saying is, my love for the few artists I absolutely cherish may be partially responsible for having no prior knowledge of this band but I figured it was time for some new music. I did a little studying on Spotify and decided that a) they were good b) they were worth seeing and c) who the eff do I think I am refusing an invitation to see a cool band in New York on a Friday night? I live in the greatest city in the world and my 3 most frequented spots are The Coffee Bean, CVS and my room. So I decided to go from being Ben Kenobi (weird hermit lurking around Tatooine) to Obiwan Kenobi (ass kicking Jedi traveling into space and shit) and go to the show.


Sorry, Ewan McGregor but Alec Guinness was the bomb diggs Obi-Wan.

It may have been the cider (yes, cider – not beer) that I had pre-show or the excitement of having a REAL day and night out but I was dancing all kinds of crazy at this show. Usually when I see the Killers I have to wait in line for what seems like 10 years (it’s actually closer to about 8 hours) to get into the venue so I can be in the front but for this show, we rolled up just a few minutes before the set and stood in the back. Interesting to see how the other half lives. It was the most chill, non-anxiety provoking show I’ve ever been to and even from the back the view was still great (and by “great” I mean I could still gawk at the lead singer, Harry, as he touched his beautiful hair while I screamed  “just keep touching your hair!” every 5 minutes.)


Obvi, I’ve become obsessed with this band since the show (duh, I’m obsessive. Have you been paying attention?) and have been listening to White Lies nonstop. They’re a little darker than my usual go-tos but something about them stuck with me. In listening to them over and over again, I’ve realized that part of their appeal is that their music makes me feel like I’m 15 years old again. Yes, we’re going all the way back to 2002, when little Candace thought she was so deep, sitting alone in the library at lunch reading NME (that’s how I discovered the Killers) because eating in the cafeteria was such a waste of my valuable time. Yes, the same Candace that joined the prom committee to stand up for the little guy and veto any decisions that might be made in favor of having a Prom King and Queen. The same Candace that hung out with her AP History teacher because he was the only person who also thought that Patti Smith’s “Because the Night” was, like, the best song ever.

15 year old Candace was very aware that she was 15, perhaps overly aware, and saw the triviality of everything that was going on around her. Lunch? Lame. Prom? Wack. Clubs? El. Oh. El.  Basically, I was like an old, cynical grandma who screamed at kids from the porch while chain-smoking – just trapped in an oily faced, hoodie clad teenager’s body. While I wasn’t totally Emo in high school, I definitely flirted with studded belts, black eyeliner and eye-covering bangs. Listening to songs about unrequited love, fear and death with Joy Division-esque ominous synthesizers setting the mood made me want to skip bio and smoke behind the church. In actuality, I only ever skipped bio once (I really liked bio) but I did try my first cigarette behind a church. I know, how cliché.

It’s hard to explain exactly why, but this strange sense of nostalgia came over me listening to these songs. I had this vision of myself walking to the bus stop in the snow wearing converse – which by the way, is a terrible idea. But that image epitomized High School for me; impractical and just plain weird. Like most, High school was an awkward yet hopeful time for me. I remember fantasizing about what my life would be like when I was older; how much better it would be. Now I am older, and I think I’m pretty much the exact same person I was then. My life isn’t that different, I just like it a lot more. I still wear sneakers almost every day, still think lots of allegedly important things are trivial and I find the world both ridiculous and fascinating at the same time. I guess that’s the thing about getting older, you’re not really any different – you just know a lot more (at at least you think you do.)

Now, as I listen to this admittedly depressing music, I think about my 15 year old self – her likes, dislikes, worldview – and while I didn’t think so at the time, she was actually pretty cool (though admittedly she could  have used a little more help with her eyebrows.) I think she’d like me, too – though she’d probably be pissed we don’t have a boyfriend.

So here’s to you, High School Candace! Glad you didn’t take shit from those people (for the most part) and did what you wanted (for the most part.) Now listen to this and cry.

“I’ve got this sentimental heart that beats…”

3 Oct

7 years ago today, the Killers released their sophomore album, Sam’s Town and my life was forever changed. I have a very distinct memory of leaving my morning classes and walking down to Newbury Comics in Boston the morning of October 3rd to buy a copy for myself. By this time, I rarely bought physical copies of music (I’m looking at you, Limewire) but even though I had only previously heard 30 second clips of the album’s tracks (courtesy of some random German music site,) I knew this was one I needed to physically own. I walked back home to my very small, very crooked apartment, popped the CD into my computer and 5 seconds in, I was hooked.

That year, Sam’s Town became my entire world. I lived every word, every beat, every note. I looked forward to every music video, interview, behind-the-scenes sneak peek – anything and everything I could tape (yes tape) on my TV/VCR – which, I might add, was very hard to find in 2006. I went to my first real concert! (one that didn’t involve smoke machines or synchronized dancing) and many more after that. During a year was that otherwise less than enjoyable, Sam’s Town brought me excitement, joy and a reason to look forward and not back.

7 years later, I think about that album and how it brought me new experiences, friends and to put it simply, made my life better. I am forever grateful for the strength and solace the songs on Sam’s Town gave me as an emotional 19 year old away from home for the first time.

Brandon Flowers once said “I really do hope that every one of you has your own Sam’s Town – a place that you can go to, whether it’s a physical home or a spiritual home or a place where things are better.” I have that. And it’s this.

No matter what you think of The Killers, that album or, quite frankly, of me, you cannot deny the power of music. I’d like to think that everyone has a Sam’s Town. What’s yours?

Good Cuddles Are Greater Than A Hot Make-Out Session

15 May

Hugs are the superior act of affection.

Most would not agree with me, but as a self-identified hugger, I’d take a great, soul-warming hug over a toe-tingling kiss any day.

You can tell so much about a person based on their hugging style — are they a back-patter or a back-rubber? Do they squeeze you around your neck or around your waist? Are they hug-sluts? Or are hugs reserved for just a select-few?

I present to you, dear reader, the reasons why hugs are superior to any type of kiss.

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Cute Boys Chewing Gum: A Series (Part 2)

21 Oct

Alright, Alright — so it’s not necessarily gum!  BUT it is chewing, and it is a cute boy, and some people chew their gum in this fashion, and hey — Halloween is around the corner, and I’m fully planning on  hosting a Thriller Dance-Off and awarding a sick prize to the badass that reaches the 4 stars for the “Unhuman” level on Michael Jackson Experience.

Happy Chewing!