Jackie DeShannon Was Right All Along.

Because the world needs love more than anything, man. There's just too little of it.

I had a weird day today. Weird in that, "Whoa...what the hell's happening to us people?" way.

So this morning a woman who works next to me comes into the restaurant talking about her sugar mama and how she's used to open relationships and how she's been burned and doesn't want to be in a relationship anymore and blah blah blah. I'm listening to what she has to say and I'm thinking to myself, "Damn. That's just not how I roll."

Of course, nothing she said was appalling. What's appalling is the fact that turning away from love has become part of our culture now. And I'm just going by a) statistics and b) eye-witness accounts.

A Peruvan woman named Isabella works with me at another job and every week she learns new ways to converse with me other than non-verbal communication. Yesterday we were holding a pretty long conversaton without confusion. She told me she likes me because I'm always happy and she isn't happy because she's away from the rest of her family in Peru.

She has two kids and a husband, so I had a, "Hey, at least you have them!" type approach. She said in broken English that she loves her kids. So I asked in broken Spanish, "You..ti quiero...senor?", meaning if she loved her husband. She shook her head and said, "No. No bueno."

I paused...then I asked if she knew what "husband" was, and then asked once more.
"No..he no bueno...no good."

And I'm like...man...where the hell's the love? What the hell's gotten into us, especially during these dark times filled with cynicism, embitterment and despair? Shouldn't that make us want to turn to love more than ever? Or am I just asking rhetorical questions to a faceless, nameless audience? (Yes)

Whatever may have you, the only way to stay sane in this cut-throat world is to spread the love. Pretty simple shit here. I keep telling people lately that we tend to think that challenges make things hard on us, but the actual challenge is recognizing the fact that everything's pretty simple if you just accept things for what they are. And I'm talking to myself more than anybody on this matter.

I remember my Calculus teacher in high school asked me and a couple of more people to go to the board to figure out a problem (forget which kind...high school was so long ago). I did this essay-style technique--I'm talking seven lines of just numbers mixed with letters here. She comes to my answer and says, "You got it right...but you made it harder on yourself when all you had to do was (insert Calc babble) and you'd had your answer in two lines."

"Oh," I replied.

Story of my life!


But I digress. Point is--love, people. Just love.

What The World Needs Now Is Love - Jackie DeShannon

I Really Love Neko's Album Cover

I don't know what it is about Neko Case, but I think she is a total badass. Just look at the album cover. And, of course, her voice alone exudes badassness.

You can pretty much guarantee pure greatness from her.

Neko Case - People Got A Lotta Nerve

What????

Get them kids!!!!

Y'all are way too young to be having domestic squabbles, not that you have to be a certain age to have those, anyway. Where's the love?

Tsk, tsk.

Jennifer Lancaster is Hysterical

When I went home for Christmas a few weeks back, my dear friend Laurie lent me a book by this supreme sarcast (one who is sarcastic—I felt there needed to be a word for that) talking about the perils of being overweight andnarcissistic. Even though she turned her mashed potatoes yellow because of the loads of butter she stirred in there or the fact that being called a “fat bitch” was part of her everyday interaction with people (OK, maybe not everyday), she still felt good about herself and addressed the fact that she's still pretty despite having double chins (her words).

I can feel on that. I mean, being a big girl is the equivalent to be a witch these days. I guess the government decided that tying us by our wrists and ankles and throwing us in the river to see if we float would be moot—of course our big asses would float! Though, of course, that would mean we'd then be grabbed out of the river and back into the village to be burnt at the stake, because, y'know, witches float.

Anyway, long story short, after a regular checkup at the doctor, where she is scolded for not taking her eating habits seriously, Lancaster decided to make that change. She was like, “Allright, allright, DAYUM! I guess I'll lose this motherfucking weight (big fan of the “fucks” and “motherfuckers,” this lady), but I'm still pretty.”

I read that shit in six days! My mama kept noticing me reading it, and she was like, “Wow. Must be a good book.” Indeed.

It's a nice, quick read for a 300-page memoir. Her words really glide right out of her mouth, onto her keyboard and into the pages. I really respect her for that. Not many writers can actually write how they're feeling and convey it beautifully for the readers to get exactly what you're talking about. Even those like us who tend to be a little long-winded. What I love most about her is the fact that she had over 120 footnotes, including one that said, “An actual footnote that's a real footnote!”

I will say, read this book with a complete open mind. There are times where she goes rants about shit that wouldn't be far off what Ann Coulter would say.

Speaking of Ann Coulter—she, too, is hysterical. She has a new book out, and I couldn't help but notice it, since she likes for people to read the BIG RED LETTERS on her cover. Boondocks creator Aaron McGruder did the most hilarious parody of her facade—because that's all it is—by depicting her as a chick milking “redneck money,” but in actuality she's just another white person trying to be “down” and dates a deadbeat black man who she had to bail out of jail 10 times. Oh, that McGruder. I recommend buying the second season The Boondocks. When you take a break from watching a marathon of five episodes, take a break and read Lancaster's book. It'll be a nice contrast.

Just for Old Time's Sake

Leslie Feist still rules.

When I first bought Let It Die back in college, I made sure all of Bowling Green, Ky., knew who the hell she was. She obviously doesn't need my help anymore. But I'm still introducing that album to a different crowd, and they like her. You just cannot argue with her voice. It's too pure.

I'd really like for she and Chrisete Michele to do a duet. Just for me. Please, ladies, please.

For the record—I'm just not that into Jazmine Sullivan. Don't get me wrong—I'm glad a young sista's making her rounds, but eh.

Baby's Growings Up! Part 1

As I've previously mentioned, the reason for my hiatus was partly due to the fact of me realizing I need to grow up. Yeah, I'm only 24, but I feel “only” should never be involved during the development of being a human being. Honestly, I think that's a major problem the post-college demographic (roughly around ages 22-29) has: we think we have all the time in the world to get to where we're going, mainly coasting to wait for our grand opportunities to fall in our super-relaxed laps.

Not so, friendo.

Three weeks ago from today (Wed. Jan 28) a dear homie of mine's, John Henderson, was shot twice in the leg and once in the head while he and a co-worker were closing down a popular bar in Atlanta's “premier” neighborhood. And by premier, I mean super-gentrified. But that's another entry.

Yeah, he gave 'em all the money, yet they still decided to shoot at the door in the office where they were both at. He was only 27, man! Ahhhhh. Just thinking about it still pisses me off. He was such a great kid with a great spirit, too.

It reminded me of my brother's untimely end five years ago in March. And he died at my age. That shit woke me up quick.

It made me realize that you just never know how much time you have left in this crazy, topsy-turvy, wonderful life. I know, I know—another “come to Jesus moment” from another person who just got through reading The Secret. Well, just bits and pieces on my end, but for real—let's go get it.

B.T. Dubs, L.A. Fitness is the greatest thing that's happened to former athletes who want to get their athletic phsyique back. I mean, they have EVERYTHING! It's freakin' amazing! Exclamation points galore! The best part about it is they don't try to low-ball you. Nice prices (if you chum up the representatives right) and it's no contract. And you get to go to any one you want in the city. Brilliant. Highly recommended.

Aiight, Yeezy, You Got Me—Again

I have a very interesting relationship with Kanye West. And by relationship, I just mean I have a complicated reaction to his music. At first I love it, then I dismiss it, then I love it even more.

With 808s and Heartbreaks, I just didn't even give it a chance. I mean, who the hell wants to listen to him do sing-song voice in that annoying robotic sound that should've stayed with Roger and Zapp in the 80s?

But on the way home from the gym a homie was listening to it on our way back to his crib before we went to hang out with another homie. That's besides the point. Point is—I was thoroughly impressed, just as I was with his last two albums. College Dropout did a reverse on me—I raved about it, then got over it.

Anyway, don't be a nay-sayer on this'n. Yeah, it's depressing, but after losing his mother and then his girlfriend dumping him, how could you go back to talking about material shit? I guess you can say it's the Sea Change of hip-hop, but just as Beck did during a performance on that tour where he flipped his acoustic guitar behind his back and started break-dancing in the middle of “Where It's At?,” Yeezy still got his floetic prowess.

Long story short—it's Amber-approved.*



Which is simply illustrated by two thumbs up—WAY UP!

Kanye West - Street Lights

What I've Been Doing

I missed writing. I really did. But honestly, my life really wasn't that eventful other than the fact that I discovered the true meaning of love and all that good shit. Yeah, I became that person. I never thought I'd get there. I was preparing myself for a Samantha Jones-esque lifestyle. Hey, that's all I knew (minus the willy-nilly sex-capades—I ain't mad at her, though).

Apparently, there's life outside of going to every cool band's show or going to every indie movie opening or going to the coolest restaurants or spending all my money on thrifting and new music and DVDs, blah blah blah. Granted, I still enjoy that kind of life, but it's definitely not a priority like it used to be. To tell the truth, I'm OK with that. Some things are just meant to not matter as much to you anymore.

I've been working, constantly on the grind since this time last year. Eh. Nothing too special. Just ready to not work in restaurants ever again (that is an entirely different entry). Dealing with people on a regular basis—bleh. It's fun until you realize that there are more idiots out there than awesome ones.

I also discovered that not everyone is what they seem, man. That, too, is an entirely different entry. I can go on and on about that. I've learned that my gut instinct on someone is much more precious than continuing a friendship with a fucking nut-case. Ha.

Oh, the glory of growing up. I love it. I just wanna give life a great, big hug and call it my baby while kissing it on the cheek and finely stroking its hair.

I want a house soon, dammit! Gimme a three-bedroom quaint house with hardwood floors, excluding the bedrooms, right now! And a lawn! And a nice, cozy finished basement! And a den! And a big kitchen! And a nice yard in a nice neighborhood with well-developed infrastructure!

Can you feel the enthusiasm? As Glenn Frey said--the heat is on! Oh, yeah!

I'm ready. And hopefully, my darlings, you are, too.

Guess Who's Back?

Hey, hey, hey—I'm what's happenin'! Or something along those lines.

So...yeah, been a long time, I know. It's been a full year since I kept this puppy updated on a regular basis. Life got in the way in Oh-Great Oh-Eight, but it's all fine in Oh-Nine. Steady on that grind in Oh-Nine. Keeping away from that swine in Oh-Nine...OK, you got it.

This year I told myself I'm gonna do a better job at keeping up with my creative juices. Now, now, I have been writing on a regular basis since you last saw me, but it's just been more for my private eyes. Growing up isn't so easy, now is it?

But hey—two tears in a bucket, mother...well, you know the rest.

*And the crowd screams, “Welcome back, Amber!”*

Awwww, thank you—you're far too kind!

Sheesh.

Photo still from Disney's Song of the South, released in 1946.

The world of Disney keeps making this a brighter place with their gadgets and uplifting movies. Next in line are some necklaces promoting Pirates of the Caribbean's Dead Man's Chest.

This is my favorite (as well as Bossip's):


That would be perfect with my Curious George Obama Oh-Eight shirt. Right in the city (well, Marietta) where I stay. The pride in my voice is thick.