SPREAD DIVA LOVE

Bookmark and Share

Is it Undignified to Waddle?

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

By Nana Malone


Picture this, Sicily, 1946….Okay, so I’m not exactly Sofia from the Golden Girls, but as I waddle and roll into my eight month of pregnancy, I find I have a few words to share….


To the kindly woman at the grocery store….I know my belly has the gravitational pull of Saturn. Yes, I understand that I vaguely resemble an alien being and you almost can’t help yourself. Nevertheless, I must ask that you refrain from touching my ever growing bump. I promise you won’t like it if I have to go all Buffy on your well meaning though cruising for a bruising behind. While we’re at it, I’m going to ask you to refrain from squealing too. It’s loud and it’s piercing and it frightens the little one in my belly.


To the teller at the bank, I know you mean well, but I can do without the unsolicited advice, especially when it’s clear I’m in a hurry. Of course you have a sister, mother, friend who insists a glass of wine daily is good for the baby, or bourbon in the breast milk will help baby sleep. Unless your name is Doctor Bank Teller, I don’t want to hear it. And you are likely to earn yourself an annoyed look. I’m very capable of asking when I want advice and heavens knows I'll need it, but probably from mama or someone who spent a whole bunch of years in school learning all about babies.


And finally, your opinion on my baby’s name, or my reluctance to share it, while interesting, is highly irrelevant. I know you would love to offer up your name as an option or tell me how you’ve always loved the name Peyton, or Apple, or Snuffleupagus. I know this will sound harsh, and I’m sorry, but I, Don’t, Care. Yes, that’s right, I said it. I. Don’t. Care. It has to be said. When you have your baby, you can name her/him whatever you like. Stop stealing my baby naming thunder. If my heart is set on naming my baby Stripper Devine or Alien Baby, your opinion doesn’t matter. Mommy, I hate to say this, but this means you too.


The constantly kicking alien parasite inside my stomach reminds me hourly that in about two months or so, my life is going to undergo a ginormous change. Some changes, I’ll probably love, like the anticipated smiles and giggles and baby smell, cause, let’s face it, who doesn’t love that smell? Some changes, I can probably do without, like the sleepless nights, incessant crying and changes to my body, cause I’m keeping it real, I’m vain enough to care. But all in all I’m up for the adventure and I can’t wait. I just hope I get to do it in style, wearing a fabulous pair of

Christian Louboutins and riding in a Bugatti Veyron.


Pictures courtesy of www.fantasymagazine.it, www.fashionkitten.com, www.shootfortheedit.com.

TV Families: Bradys? Duggars? Which Are Your Favorites?

Monday, March 8, 2010




By Laurie Sanchez

My 13-year-old daughter was shaking her head at the tabloid cover at the supermarket, featuring the 19th child of the Duggar family. “It just seems a little weird. …” she said.

I nodded, but shrugged: The Duggar family seems like a very nice family, actually, and I have no qualms about how many children they want to have. My surprise, instead, is about how many families agree to be televised while trying to raise them.

There was, of course, the Gosselins (Jon and Kate Plus Eight). There are the Duggars (19 Kids and Counting). There was a show proposed about the Masches (Raising Sextuplets). And now there’s the Hayes family (Table for 12).

Of course, the fascination with big families is not new.

When I was growing up, we had lots of television families, too, but -- the big difference -- is that the families were fake: There was the Brady Bunch (combining a family! Imagine that!), the Partridge Family (performing with your family! Imagine that!), Eight Is Enough (eight kids! Imagine that!), and there were even a few movies about multiples, including the ever-popular Parent Trap (original 1970s version, thank you very much).

We were fascinated with what it would be like to be part of a large family, or part of a combined family, or perhaps a multiple. We watched all the childish hijinks and wondered what it would be like if we had a mom like Carol Brady or a brother like Keith Partridge. Maybe our fascination stemmed from coming off the "free love" 60s, in which the nuclear family took quite a beating. People doubted marriage, doubted the happy 2.5 kids. People were getting divorced in large numbers and having much smaller families. So maybe the flurry of '70s shows was in response to that -- showing us that combined families, even after divorce, could still be happy and normal and filled with a dog like Tiger jumping through the family blow-up pool. The most interesting thing about this, though, is that I now realize many of those stories were told from the point of view of the kids.

As the decades rolled by, then, and infertility treatments became common, and multiples … well, multiplied … large families became real. And television focused on reality. So it seemed an obvious leap that we’d get reality television about families of multiples. (Combining fascinations. Gotta love it.)

But the stories, now, are not romantic. They’re not filled with cute childish hijinks about a fountain filled with bubbles or wearing a pair of fake glasses to fool a date. They’re not designed to amuse, or entertain. Or maybe they are, but they don’t. And they’re now told from the parents’ point of view, not the kids’. The kids’ point of view is funny, but the parents’ point of view is … kinda painful.
How do you feel about the current crop of reality shows about families? Do you think the parent point of view is as painful as I do? Did you watch the “fake families” when you were a kid? Do you think we’re destined to make a fictional-family comeback? (I'm already watching Modern Family and thinking that this might represent our comeback -- the self-defined, no-definitions-attached version of whatever you call "family." Love it. ...)

Laurie Sanchez lives in Southern California with her not-made-for-TV family and is putting the polishing touches on her first contemporary romance novel. She also blogs as Mizwrite and blogs over at Health Bistro on Fridays.

WRITE ON TIME

by Kelly Ann Beaton

I am always impressed by people who can write on time. You know the people in university who always had their report or research paper done 2 months in advance. Or the people who can sit down and just start writing. I wish I could be one of those persons. I remember reading an article on Danielle Steel and it said that after she had breakfast and worked out, she wrote from 9 a.m to 5 p.m, breaking only for a quick bite of lunch. Wow! How does she do it?

I am a spontaneous writer. I write in fits and starts. I often write on the go. I write on the bus or in waiting rooms. I love writing in waiting rooms as I tend to be like a stenographer, writing down the dialogue in the room. This may be a good excuse for eavesdropping.

I must confess that I will take my writing whenever and however I can get it. These threads of consciousness have served me well on a number of occasions. I often remind myself of the wonderful scene in Shakespeare in Love (1998), where Will Shakespeare, played by Joseph Fiennes (sidebar comment - who is an incredible actor who we do not see enough of…. I will save my Ode to Joseph Fiennes for another blog) tries in vain to write, only to have his desk littered with drafts. While I know how he felt, the question is - can I or more specifically do I want to change…

So here is to everyone who takes a moment to write something today… a card, a report, or even a poem. Doesn’t matter what you write…. Just write!

Pictures courtesy of:

http://www.daniellesteel.net/

Wikipedia

of Byron and Venezia

Friday, March 5, 2010

I'd like to extend a warm Divas welcome to my dear friend squozed who graciously agreed to write a piece for our blog (romantics that we are) about the poet Lord Byron. Now, as many romance writers know - especially the historical writers - Byron's poetry is - well pretty much required reading. So I'm sure you'll enjoy reading this post as much as I did.

Thank you so much squozed for blogging with us today. You truly are an honorary Divo.

by Squozed

I was honoured when I was asked by the lovely Johanna D’Angelo if I would consider writing a piece for her terrific website Pop Culture Divas where I was made an honorary Devo.  I met JoJo a few months ago through a social media site that I don’t use much anymore and discovered that we have a lot in common, not only our heritage, but a passion for movies and great literary works. If you don’t already, I highly recommend you check out her other site – well worth the visit.

JoJo suggested that I write about my favourite poet who may be yours as well, Lord Byron.  Now I know that there have been many stories, books and even documentaries and movies written and produced about the bard, but I decided to write about what he means to me from the perspective of his time in Venice, which coincidentally is where part of my family is from and where I started my life as well.  The request was also quite timely as I was scheduled to go there for business and to partake in some of the Carnevale festivities.  So as I arrived by motorboat snaking my way down the Grand Canal to my destination, I stopped and saw the Bridge of Sighs and immediately thought of the following passage:

I stood in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs;
A palace and a prison on each hand;
I saw from out the wave of her structure's rise
As from the stroke of the enchanter's wand:
A thousand years their cloudy wings expand
Around me, and a dying Glory smiles
O'er the far times, when many a subject land
Look'd to the winged Lion's marble pines,
Where Venice sate in state, throned on her hundred isles.


~ Childe Harold (canto IV, st. 1)

I suppose at this point I am taking for granted that you know who Lord Byron is? I have studied the man and have found some similarities in my life.  No, I absolutely do not think that anything I could ever write would have gone anywhere other than the rubbish bin if he wrote the exact same words.  I do imagine though that when I do write prose that I am channeling his spirit at some points. 

Anyway, a quick thumbnail about Lord Byron – born to a well to do father, he was short in stature – only 5’8” and fluctuated widely in weight being between 137 and 202 pounds as an adult; he became notorious for his alleged love affairs with women and Mediterranean boys; created his own cult of personality, the concept of the 'Byronic hero' - a defiant, melancholy young man, brooding on some mysterious, unforgivable in his past; had a clubbed foot that was made worse by a quack physician, he attended Cambridge which he called “a devil’s place,” because of his lasciviousness was basically exiled from England, travelled to Italy and settled in Venice where he lived for a few years and wrote some of his best works including the fourth canto of Childe Harold, the good-humored satire of Beppo, large parts of his memoirs, sundry other lyrics, some verse drama, dozens and dozens of letters, and the first sections of his masterpiece Don Juan.  He died of complications from Malaria in 1824.

Venice at the time that Byron arrived was a tribute to extreme excess and hedonism – clearly, it was well-suited for Byron where he spent many days and nights in unprecedented debauchery.  For example, he wrote about how he was with 200 women in the first 200 days that he was there.  He lived at the palazzo mocenigo, a tribute to all that was opulent during that time.  However, after a while, it appears from historical accounts, he backed away from the free-for-all.  This was also the period where he began to shy away from that brooding, angst-ridden tortured soul and introduced satire into his writing.  It has been said that Teresa Guiccioli, Byron's last love, whom he met in April 1819 became the mellowing influence on his life, though how he got together with her was also quite scandalous as she was married at the time and had the Pope dissolve her marriage in order to be with Byron. 

So with that as the backdrop, my similarities with Byron consist of attending the same university (though not the same college), having a passion for a city that is unmatched in the world, being a tortured soul but also loving satire.  That is where the similarities end – alas, no heroic trysts here, but nonetheless, I was drawn to his writing as the quintessential romantic and poet quite by happenstance.

I did not study English as a major in school, but did like taking some of the classes – my passion for Byron did not start until after university when I went to a poetry reading with a former fiancée – an aspiring actress who could have been the doppelgänger for Scarlett Johansson.  I was living in New York for a little while, but was so caught up in my work that my life at the time consisted of going from my apartment to work and back.  I figured if I agreed to go it would seem as though I might be more cultured than I really was.  To my shock, I really enjoyed the readings.  There was something that just spoke to my soul about the passion that was intertwined with each word read.  It might have been that he was a somewhat tortured person and that at the time was my mindset.  I just enjoyed and still do all of his writings.  The language is, no doubt, flowery to the point of making you pause and really think about what is being conveyed in each of his poems or stories. 

There is no doubt that he loved women and his mastiff which by the way was caricatured in a cartoon drawn to commemorate Cambridge’s 800th anniversary last year along with other famous graduates of that place.  To me, there is no other writer or poet that has gone before him or since that has been able to capture his passion for life, love, tragedy and yes, even politics not because he wrote of such happy events – but because he wrote of such events with his middle-finger raised high and because he wrote from an often very dark place.  Certainly my assessment is entirely subjective, but I have never felt words move me in such a way as his writing has.  From a moral standpoint, he clearly was bankrupt and the rumours of his sexuality and incest never went away.  In fact, he was such the antihero that many of his works would not be published until much later, after he died because they were thought to have been about subjects that were too risqué.  One of the early banned books pioneers I suppose.

Since the time of my enlightenment about Byron, I have written (attempted) to write some poetry, most of which falls far from his passion, but certainly written in his spirit.  I shouldn’t write this, but there have been times that friends or co-workers have asked me to write for them so they could give their wives, girlfriends or significant other something for a birthday or other special occasion.  Maybe I was like Lord Byron in that sense that I got lucky living vicariously through them.  I can only smile as the modern day Cyrano or something like that.

Each time I go back to Venice, I try to retrace the footsteps and go to the places that Byron enjoyed in order to gain a better understanding of what he was thinking or feeling during that time.  While Venice has evolved from the den of iniquity, being there during Carnevale gives one a small glimpse of what life must have been like at that time although I don’t think that any of the festivities today comes close to what was going on in the early 1800s.  It certainly must have been some culture shock to Byron, especially after being essentially kicked out of England for doing things that were probably quite tame in Venice.  Oh the culture clashes.

To channel Lord Byron is exactly what I try to do with this type of writing.  My words are chosen, not in an attempt to show that I am superior anyone; rather I am trying to make the reader think about what is being conveyed – to foster a discussion about the subject – or to get the reader to express his or her feelings or thoughts. 

Hey, if I can get some of the ladies to swoon along the way – well that is just an added bonus.  I am, of course, just kidding about that part – well, maybe just a little.

I am not a writer, but have a passion for writing;
I am not a poet, but poetry is my song;
I am not a romantic, but live each day hoping to find romance.


Squozed posts regularly on two different blogs:

For articles that range from thoughtful and reflective to whipsmart and witty you can read squozed's posts on his wordpress blog called squozed too.

For always delectable concoctions of provocative music, prose, poetry and images check out squozed's tumblr blog.

Thursday Thirteen - 148 - 13 of My Favorite TV Shows

Thursday, March 4, 2010

by Julia Smith

Every Thursday for the past 148 weeks, I've taken part in a meme known as Thursday Thirteen. What's that, you say? A what?



Memes are formats that multiple bloggers can use to create posts which will be repeated by other bloggers, yet each version will have its own twist. Generally there is a central blog where the meme originates, and everyone who plays that day will sign in so you can find the other bloggers also taking part. Memes generate a lot of traffic, moreso if you take the time to visit the other participants.

Because my Popculturedivas post fell on Thursday, I decided to bring my Thursday Thirteen over here. Simply put, Thursday Thirteen is a list of thirteen things, of whatever subject matter you so desire.

Today, I've got thirteen of my favorite TV shows.

1 - Faces of America



2 - Family Guy



3 - Legend of the Seeker (scenes of violence)



4 - PBS's Masterpiece



5 - Merlin



6 - Spartacus: Blood and Sand (scenes of violence)



7 - Spectacle



8 - Spooks / MI-5



9 - CBS Sunday Morning



10 - The Colbert Report



11 - The Ricky Gervais Show (language warning)



12 - The Venture Brothers (scenes of violence)



13 - True Blood (scenes of violence)

 
popculturedivas. Design by Pocket