Goin' Back to New Orleans & Super Post

I had the intention to post a few times this week, because I have so many [important] things to share!!! However, as per usual, time got lost on me, so the result is what I will refer to as a super post. Get ready, kiddos. As usual, it will be divided into subsections because I hate and am terrible at transitions.

Goin' back to New Orleans

If you have ever met me, you know I love the South. If you know me at all, you know I have a specific love for New Orleans. It's such a unique, beautiful, lively city, even after Katrina completely ravaged it not so long ago. Well, I am going back! Tomorrow I am flying to Orlando to be with my beautiful darling sharkface Annalise, and we are driving to Nola to celebrate her golden birthday!

Brief backstory on me and Anna: Since I have known Anna, I have had the utmost admiration for her. When we were younger, I basically wanted to be her. She is hilarious and beautiful and so intelligent and I love her to death.

Exhibit A: first evidence of friendship obviously involves pretending to shoot a statue

Anna and I have kept in touch and remained close longer than anyone else. We can go literally years without seeing each other and nothing will feel different. I love her like a sister, which is essentially what she has been to me.

Exhibit B: Anna visits me in Wisconsin and we are hilarious

Exhibit C: first trip to Nola, we are still hilarious

Now that's out of the way.

We are returning to Nola this week and I could NOT be more excited. Also, as a follow-up to my last post, I have a tattoo appointment booked at Electric Ladyland and I am way too excited. Obviously photos will follow. This also means I probably won't be writing next week since I will be on adventures, I hope you can find a way to cope.

Papa Roy!!!

Speaking of tattoos, my dad wants to getting a matching one of my next piece. Obviously, this is precious. Hint: I'm getting some sort of skull.

And speaking of my father bear, HAPPY FATHER'S DAY, FATHERS!! Especially mine. He's the best there is.

Exhibit D: my best Father's Day gift yet--Old Spice deodorant (because I liked the sailboat)

a Karaoke Adventure

This past Monday, Kelsey and I went to a local dive/karaoke bar in Northeast Minneapolis and let me just list all the things that were awesome about this night. I am mostly writing this so I don't forget how epic it was.

Happy Hour started our evening out at 5:30 - $10/person

Adventures down by the Mississippi - spotted a beaver and a crane, pranced around in the water, may have contracted diseases (the river is dirty)

Target run - new shoes, God bless America

Karaoke bar - awesome bartender, cheap drinks, karaoke regulars who keep singing because they know they're good, shots purchased by random drunk people, getting hit on by middle-aged men, karaoke renditions of Amy Winehouse and CCR, making friends with a 60-year-old "gay boy", not leaving til bar close - total cost for both tabs? $25. OH WAIT until our new oldish gay manfriend PAID THE TAB FOR US.

Went home, made cinnamon rolls

THE NIGHT WAS OURS!!!!

It should be noted that we sang "Rehab" by Amy Winehouse first because we thought it was funny since we were at a bar on a Monday night and were fairly intoxicated. Apparently hit too close to home for... everyone, since they were also in a bar on a Monday and also intoxicated. Lesson learned: alcoholic humor not universal.

another thing that sucks about being Catholic

Innate fear of demon possession combined with a desire to watch movies about demon possession. Okay, maybe this is a problem really specific to me, but it is indeed a very real problem to all those it effects (me).

It totally makes sense to be interested in films closest to your own experience, but when that experience is being Catholic and a side effect of that is shit like exorcisms, it's rough. Today I watched The Exorcism of Emily Rose and it was so freaky. Keep in mind that I am a wimp, but I was definitely curled in a ball begging for Laura Linney's mercy, a position I never wish to be in again. That being said, I also really enjoyed it. Go figure.

But in all seriousness, I can handle stuff like monsters and vampires and whatnot. Probably ghosts, even. But throw a demon movie at me, and I am terrified. I also watched Jennifer's Body, but I don't want to talk about that as much. Adam Brody really made me sad, a phrase I never wished to utter.

playlist

It started about being completely New Orleans themed, and then sort of morphed into part Nola, part songs that remind me of Nola, and part just some songs I am really into right now and want to share. Hope ya'll enjoy!

Nola Playlist

1. Going Back to New Orleans - Mason Jennings

2. Jackson Square - Mason Jennings

3. Lakes on Pontchartrain - The Be Good Tanyas

4. Settle Down - Kimbra

5. The House of the Rising Sun - The Animals

6. New Orleans - Trampled by Turtles

7. Born on the Bayou - Creedence Clearwater Revival

8. Walkin' After Midnight - Patsy Cline

9. Proud Mary - Creedence Clearwater Revival

10. Ramblin' Man - The Allman Brothers Band

11. To the Dogs or Whoever - Josh Ritter

12. Hey Hey Hurray - Ryan Bingham & the Dead Horses

13. Bad Moon Rising - Creedence Clearwater Revival

14. Move Over Mama - Justin Townes Earle

15. Nikorette - Conor Oberst & the Mystic Valley Band

...Hope you guys like CCR.

First Impressions and/or Worst Impressions

I am known amongst my friends as someone who is quite judgmental about seemingly random, highly specific things when I meet new people. Though this is something I continue to work on, I would like to take this opportunity to defend myself with some examples of major turn-offs and why they bother me so. So maybe I'm still being a judgmental ass, but at least you'll understand my logic? Eh?

SCENARIO: I ask, "What kind of music do you like?" They answer, "Oh, you know, anything but country."
LOGIC: It's a lie!!! You don't like ANYTHING but country! I know it in my heart as well as my brain. If you say this, you are essentially telling me that you are an ass. I normally reply to this lie with a lie of my own by acting offended and saying, "YEAH, WELL, Carrie Underwood is my idol!" Yeah, the only Carrie Underwood song I know is the one about ruining some dude's car (which seems excessively rude at best), but that's not the point. The point is, I feel like that statement is so holier than thou in and of itself to put literally every other genre of music above one extremely lucrative one. Now, I am by no means a country fan, but I'm also not a fan of Thai monks chanting (nor do I know if that's a thing that exists), so I would never say this statement. Also, I'm not an asshole.

SCENARIO: Friend of a friend, we're all going out tonight. They say something along the lines of, "I hope there are hot guyzzz there tonight!"
LOGIC: No shit. The verbalization of this makes me think you are kind of skanky, which is a bummer. I also cannot think of any occasion where I am preparing to leave for an evening and have thought, "Wow, I really hope there are only unattractive, boring people at this party/bar/event tonight! That would be great." Thus brings me back to my first point: No shit. This is hardly a deal breaker, but it definitely annoys me a great deal. Fun fact: Happens way more often than it should, perhaps adding to why it is on this list.

A LIST OF SELF-EXPLANATORY SCENARIOS:
Weak handshakes
When people shout "SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS" and are referring to alcohol and not warning of gunfire
"I can't eat that, I'm vegan" -- I can't talk to you, I'm American
People who don't like kittens (are probably serial killers DO NOT TRUST)
People who fist pump and consider it a legitimate substitute for dancing
The phrase "I would hit that" when it's not referring to Adam Levine (see Exhibit A)
Eye-contact averters when you clearly know the person
Probably other things

Exhibit A

(Shirtless photo would explode this blog. Google at your own risk.)

That felt good. Therapeutic. Now, for the sake of fairness, I will share some of my own oddly specific quirks that you are allowed to judge me on. Didn't think they were weird until recently.

Whenever I hear the word "drink" I think it is "dream". This one goes first because it has almost gotten me in trouble on countless occasions. Por ejemplo, last night at the bar I was asked, "Can I buy you a drink?" Normal question. However, I initially hear, "Can I buy you a dream?" Thus, I almost SHOUTED at the poor guy, "YOU DON'T HAVE THAT POWER!" before catching myself, realizing I am crazy, and answering appropriately. Is this an actual psychological thing? There's no way of knowing, because reading into it would take away from how funny it is... maybe only to me.

I am an extremely picky eater, based 98% on food texture. This one sort of explains itself, but has gotten me made fun of by most of my friends, and always my mom. (Who I just found out reads this bad boy--HI, MOM!! Stop making fun of me!! It's mean.) Like, I love orange-flavored things, but the texture of oranges weirds me out.

I am terrible at flirting. Which my mom also pointed out to me this week. (Be nicer to me, mom!!! I will call you out on the internet!! The two other people who read this blog are going to laugh at YOU!!) I blame this on two things. One, I had the same boyfriend all through high school, so prime obnoxious learn-to-flirt time was skipped. Never had to. Was lazy. Awesome at the time, kind of a bummer now. Two, I am kind of a weird girl to begin with. Woops.

I know all the words to ODB's "Got Ya Money". Yeah, I'm not ashamed of this at all. Just threw it in kind of to brag. Not sorry.

Hope that provided enough random facts about my psyche for one day. I refuse to read through this entry because it probably reveals a lot about me and self-discovery is for another time. 30 Rock is for now. Sometime this week I will be posting again with a theme entry that includes another playlist! Happy music fun times! Until then, goodnight, Mom and whoever else reads this.

Feelin' Inky

After getting my wisdom teeth out on Tuesday, I have been doing a great deal of heavily-medicated sitting around and television viewing. Thanks to my parents having the voodoo technology of Netflix instantly on the TV, I have watched all of Arrested Development, season one of Swamp People, and season one of LA Ink. The medication and programming choices have led to two things: crazy dreams and a major desire for some fresh ink.


I love tattoos. I think they are great. For the sake of full disclosure, I should explain that I was raised by a couple of inked up parents, so I am probably (definitely) biased. I remember being a young'un imagining not if I would ever get a tattoo, but what I wanted to get.


That being said, tattoos were never taken lightly in my family. I remember that my dad especially, as he inkier of my parents, always emphasized that tattoos are a permanent art form, and should be viewed as such. At this point my dad has, I want to say... over 10 pieces? My mom says he looks like he just busted out of prison and he looks at it as an art gallery, mostly comprised of skulls/skeletons. My father is sort of a bad ass.


I got my first tattoo as my 18th birthday present from my dad. We went to Gothic Body Tattoo in Milwaukee, WI. The Roy family mentality of "go big or go home" got the best of both of us that day. Papa Roy walked out with two pieces on either side of his bicep and I brought home my biggest piece thus far, my Virgen de Guadeloupe.

She's a colorful one, ain't she? I wanted my first piece to represent a lot of things. Mostly, it's about being raised Catholic--Catholic school, super religious grandmother, etc. (I used to memorize prayers for fun. What the what?) I have always loved the symbol of the Virgin Mary, and am a huge fan of Catholic art, especially Latin American Catholic art. I knew that, as an 18-year-old girl, I had no idea of what my future would hold. However, you can't change your past, and how it has shaped you. Thus, it's a safe bet to get a tattoo that pays a tribute to that.

I waited about six months before getting #2, once again going with my dad. This time we went to Pape's Blue Ribbon Tattoo in Shorewood, WI.

I lovelove the script on this one. It reads, "the inevitable fifth," and is from my favorite book Fifth Business by Robertson Davies. In the book, at least how I interpreted it, the fifth business is someone who is more of an observer 99% of the time, but is actually of huge significance. That's a really poor way of explaining it, so you should really just read the book, BUT, it obviously struck a chord with me.

My most recent piece was my birthday present to myself last year, done at Atomic Tattoo in Milwaukee, WI (the East Side location in case anyone is concerned). This tattoo is definitely the most meaningful in the sense that it has so many different significances to me. WHICH I WILL LIST!

1. My favorite, easiest, and most common explanation: "I'm French as f**k, man." Due to vulgarity, people rarely ask for me to elaborate. But, really. My last name means "king" in French, and the fleur de lis is a symbol of French royalty. Thus, this was my way of showing my pride for where I come from. The timing was significant as well, since I wanted to get it before my Grandpa Roy passed away (he was fighting a battle with lung cancer at the time).

2. My best friend/prison boyfriend/essentially my sister also has a fleur de lis tattoo. This is self-explanatory. Using science, Annalise and I have determined that if you have matching tattoos, you must, in fact, be related. You can't argue with science.

3. I love New Orleans more than I love most other nouns, proper or otherwise. I'll be back in Nola in less than two weeks, and let's all cross our fingers that my tattoo gets me free drinks when I'm out in the Quarter!

Now presenting:

FAQz ABOUT MY TATTOOz

DISCLAIMER: I will be making fun of the average person who asks these questions. A pet peeve of mine is when people ask questions without caring about the answer, they just ask to ask.

1. OMG WUT DOES IT MEAN?! See above.

2. OMG U R BRAVE DOES IT HURT?! Yes. It does. I feel like anyone who says tattoos don't hurt is sort of full of shit. I hate the process of getting tattooed, but I love the product, so it's worth it. Also, yes, I am brave.

3. How will you ever get a job? I WON'T!!!!

4. Do you think you will be able to find a husband who likes tattoos? Okay, this isn't frequently asked. However, my least favorite HIGH SCHOOL teacher asked me this, and then I punched him in the face! No, I didn't. I just sort of stared at him blankly. If I'm ever asked this again, I will respond the same way.

In conclusion: F. I really want some fresh ink. Time to crunch some numbers and see if I can afford one. I already started looking at tattoo shops in Nola, woops. Donations accepted.

Kat Von D is hot. Here is a photo.

NOTE: If you have any questions about my tattoos or tattoos in general, I almost promise you will not get made fun of. Overall, I really like talking about my inky experiences. If I liked emoticons more, I would probably put a smiley face here.

Gator Week

I know I said I would write about why Parks and Recreation is the best show on television, but I fear I may have been living a lie. You see, season one of Swamp People is now on instant Netflix. My life has been changed.

First, I should inform you that I do not have a television in Minneapolis, so if it's not on Hulu, it takes me a while. Also, I am a TV purist (read: obnoxious), so I can only start shows from the beginning. If I try to start in the middle of a season, my brain explodes. Cannot compute. I need character backstories, no matter how irrelevant.

Second, it should be noted that I am way more into television than I am film. I like getting emotionally invested in plots and subplots that last for months and then leave you hanging. I will tell you that I hate it, but almost never believe me. Because I love TV, I also love recommending/forcing people to love shows. Many of my friends have learned to trust my studied recommendations, but normally I have to hook my parents by just turning the show on. It's like fishing (I'd assume); set the bait and wait for a catch/laugh. Right? That's like fishing.

OR ALLIGATOR HUNTING!!!!

Oh my word. Swamp People has taken Deadliest Catch's place in my heart as number one show about hunting-water-based-animals, a very specific, competitive category. Thank goodness I don't have to include Shark Week in there, because I wouldn't know what to do with myself! For those of you who don't know what the show is, it's about essentially a small group of Cajun men in the Louisiana bayou who hunt alligators during their hunting season. One also has a gator/turtle farm.

This is his story.

Yeah. He never wears a shirt. Also, he has a precious and mildly creepy dog that eats zebra cakes and licks alligator eye's right after they're killed. WEIRD but INTRIGUING. I love dogs.

This is HIS story.

Basically, like most other shows of this nature, the episodes follow similar plot lines. Challenges. Gators. ONE BIG NICKNAMED GATOR. Gotta catch 'em all! Someone succeeds, someone fails. Close on one of the guys talking about the importance of family and tradition and getting all the fat off of the gator meat. Classic television formula.

To close: I highly recommend this. I sat in my bed and watched hours of it. You could easily watch it with friends, if you're committed enough to put pants on, as I rarely am after 9 PM. Lastly, it's Roy family approved. I shall exhibit proof now.

Normal father-daughter conversations/PROOF

With that, I bid you a good night. Also, look at me go! Posting on here and everything.

Rapture Attack in River City!!!!1

As you may know, today was the rapture. Heaven is working out really, really well. The Dominos guy who delivered my Cinnastix to heaven was a sweetheart, and it was the only time I put on pants all day. So, yeah. Really unsure as to whether or not this is actually heaven and I was chosen, or if it's just a rainy summer Saturday where my main responsibility is to nap.

The best part of nap-rapture was my super intense nap dreams. I don't know if it's just me or a general rule, but my nap dreams are always 10,000x more interesting than any regular dream I can ever remember. (If anyone tries to explain the cognitive reasons behind this, I will punch you. Let me have my magic.)

I normally think that reporting on dreams is terrible and boring, but this one was one of those half memory/half dream scenarios, and the memory half is hysterical. I'll open with this, and you tell me if you're not enthralled (read: don't actually): I woke up trembling with the "Wells Fargo Wagon" song from The Music Man.

Exhibit A: the song in question

Exhibit B: a much superior song from the same musical

Where did this Music Man dream come from? Well, I don't want to intimidate you, but I happened to star as "a child" in the 2001 Catholic Memorial production of this classic musical in Waukesha, WI. So, I mean, it's not a big deal, but that's where I got my break. Look at me now!!!

In my rapturenapdream (copyright Alicia Roy, 2011), I was back in fifth grade, in this production. Fifth grade Alicia is a lot like current Alicia, but pre-braces, awkward as shit, with long hair and is 98% limbs. Also, afraid of speaking. I was super popular. Naturally, with all of these great qualities and a natural pre-teen fear of boizzz, being in a high school was a horrible, horrible thing. Even with theatre kids who are debatably more awkward than any pre-teen I have ever met ever.

ANYWAY. So I'm backstage, being bitter that I wasn't chosen to be in the Music Man's band of children and girl who is supposed to be my mom or something has sweaty hands and an obvious crush on my fake dad. I vividly remember that he was not into her. I knew my fake parents would be fake divorced by fake Christmas, and I used this to build character. "A child"?! Methinks not. I was a multifaceted character who just wanted to stay of TROUBLE down at the POOL HALL.

This is where I'm assuming the trembling comes in. The song "Gary, Indiana". I don't know if you have ever been to/driven through Gary, Indiana, but it is a terrible place. It smells terrible. I hate Gary, Indiana. Also, most of Indiana, but that is a different story for a different day. In the dream, they suddenly point to me and tell me I'm taking lead on "Gary, Indiana" even though I don't know the words! So I started doing the Nicki Minaj verse from "BedRock" and was kicked out of the children's cast. Nailed it.

Hope ya'll had a great rapture!! I'm gonna go kick it with my patron saint/main girl, St. Theresa the Little Flower!

JK, see you in hell, am I right?

an Explanation

SO. I haven't posted in almost exactly a month, and I feel somewhat obligated to offer some sort of explanation for my absence, even if I am the only one who has noticed (a great possibility). Thus begins my first and potentially one of the only actually kind of serious posts that shall ever grace this blog.

In short, this semester has been a killer. A huge reason I started this blog was to form a diversion against how I've been feeling, but, alas, mental ailments tend to win. I was diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder a couple of months ago, and have been seeking treatment since. Basically, I am doing much better and this is hardly a situation that needs any sympathy. I am taking the appropriate steps to getting better, I have a solid support system, and the semester is almost over. All-in-all, things are looking up.

I have finals this next week, but I am not too terribly overwhelmed since I did have to drop two of my courses as I've been dealing with my illness. After this week, I am going home for about a week for some relaxation and family time before my summer in Minneapolis actually begins!

It'll be another slow couple of weeks on the ol' blog, but I hope to be posting much more regularly throughout the summer.

POSTS TO LOOK FORWARD TO:
-An analysis of who my neighbor actually is based on their music choices (claims to be 20-something woman, likely is a 40-something flamboyantly gay man)
-An analysis on who my neighbor probably thinks I am based on my music choices (claims to be 19-yr-old young woman, actually is your dad)
-My fervent argument on why Parks and Recreation is the best show on television
-Meal choices when going to the grocery store is too much work (hint: are all peanut butter-based)
-AND MORE!!!!

So, stay tuned, kids. I'm done being serious, and have a LOT of thoughts and feelings and all those aforementioned topics. Get ready.

P.S. HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!!!

(Don't forget to call your moms.)

Movies You've Already Seen Vol. 1: Romance

Now, I was raised in a household where unless it was imperative that a movie be seen on the big screen, we followed a "wait for DVD" policy. (Read: poor.) I vividly remember making cases for various films in order to be allowed to see them in theaters. Some winners: Toy Story 2, Spiderman, all Lord of the Rings films.

Based on this principle and my current college-induced state of poverty, I rarely make it to the movie theater. Thus presents the first installment of "Movies You've Already Seen" where I share my deepest thoughts on movies that you have probably already seen, but I just got around to watching. Completely on accident, volume one has a romantic theme. Don't puke yet.

Love and Other Drugs (2010):
No. Just... no. I am not difficult to please in the RomCom/RomDram genre. I have willingly watched When in Rome as well as the classic Harry Connick Jr. work in New in Town. The latter, I watched twice. When my reaction to a film is simply "no," I can't imagine what someone who actually cares would think about it. Following the classic "banging-turns-to-love" plot and adding a chronic disease twist, Love and Other Drugs manages to fit into bad romance stereotypes while giving none of the perks. It tries to be deep, and fails. Anne Hathaway cries too much, and I don't like her face.

Blue Valentine (2010):
This film was really, really great. Ryan Gosling and Michelle Williams portray a couple falling in and out of love with almost startling realism. Don't watch the whole film if you want to feel...happy, though. I'm not kidding about the startling realism. If you do want happiness, just watch this clip.

P.S. I Love You (2007):
Due to extreme emotional reactions, I will never watch this movie with another human. I learned this trying to watch it on a Megabus from Minneapolis to Milwaukee and silently bawling for two hours. (The girl next to me had a fun ride. Sorry, girl.) On a related note, let's never talk about it.

When Harry Met Sally (1989):
Yes, I did just see this for the first time two nights ago. I know I'm a terrible RomCom fan, sue me. All I want to know after seeing this film is how many women used it to mess with their guy friends. Seriously, someone reading this, DO IT. "Hey, I have a movie for us to watch! It really speaks to me." And then just stare. No flirty crap, just turn on the movie and deadpan stare. If you don't break character, this would be hilarious. Unrelated thought: I can't hear Billy Crystal's voice without seeing him as the old hobgoblin guy in The Princess Bride. As you can imagine (or at least will after reading this), picturing ol' Billy the Hobgolbin hooking up with Meg Ryan was a horrible, horrible image.

That's all for Vol. 1. I welcome your opinions on these films and suggestions for my next genre and leave you with this gem: