my love for singing

I love to sing.  All the time.  Especially while working, walking to/from work, running (this isn’t easy), walking to/from anywhere, showering, sitting in front of any computer, cooking any meal, getting ready for work/bed/any event…  The only times I don’t love singing are while I eat, sleep and watch TV.  Makes sense, I guess.

Since I sing while I sit in front of my computer, and I sit in front of my computer most week nights (especially if nothing good is on TV) I do a TON of singing between the hours of 8p-12:30a.

This late-night singing is kinda a “bad habit” of mine – considering the fact that I have 2 roommates and one of them goes to bed at 10:30p.  I’m pretty sure I was doing this while I was in high school, at UVa and while I was in College Park, but I don’t imagine anyone actually enjoys this.  I’m not sure I would enjoy it.  At least I’m not loud, I guess.

No complaints so far.

Not to brag (I feel like such a douche for saying this – but whatever), but I’m not a terrible singer.  I like to think all those years of choir (8, I think) and the fact that my parents named me Deva (I hate myself for saying that) work to my advantage (honestly – can you imagine someone named Deva or Diva who couldn’t sing at all? It would be a tragedy).  Anyway, I’m no Diva (not even close), but there are worse things than my singing.

Side note 1: I apologize for the ridiculous use parentheses in the paragraph above.  I also apologize for the quasi-bragging.  I should be smacked.

Oh – I just thought of one of my favorite memories: For my 4th birthday, I had a very small birthday gathering.  Being the diva I was, I had to be the center of attention – so I broke out my My First Sony and proceeded to sing.  And what did I sing?  Michael Jackson’s Man in the Mirror.  To this day, it’s still my favorite song, and now I know the correct lyrics.  My parents were slick back then and recorded me singing that song… I really wish I knew where that tape was.

So yeah, singing is my favorite hobby.  I’m singing as I write this.  My roommates are probably hating me right now (except for the one sleeping), but I mostly don’t care.  The evening concerts will continue until someone politely asks me to stop.

Side note 2: My roommate who has loud sex with her bf is not allowed to complain about my singing.

like father, like daughter

My dad and I have a ton in common.  Including the fact that we’re obsessed with egg nog.

We’re having breakfast together in a couple of weeks while I’m in DC.  The first thing that crossed his mind while making plans was drinking egg nog…

That is why I love my father.

And yes – wherever we eat breakfast will serve egg nog.  If anyone knows of any breakfast places in DC that serve egg nog, please let me know.  I can’t wait to drink gobs of egg nog this holiday season :)

is that your real name?

This is a first (no, it’s not coffee – it’s a nonfat chai):

Who is Divon?  Charbux has somehow managed to give me a completely new name.

For those who don’t know – my name is not Divon.  It’s Deva.  And yes – it’s pronounced like Dee-vuh, or Diva.  No, it’s not short for anything. Yes, it is my real name.

And no – I didn’t change my name when I turned 18 so I could be “cool”.

c25k: done

On October 30, 2009, I finished my Couch to 5K training program.  That’s right… I’m officially (kinda) a runner!  More of a runner than I’ve ever been in my life.  I can run 3 miles.  Non-stop.  And I am so ridiculously proud of myself.

I still remember when I first started the program and I would itch SO BADLY.  All over my body.  It was like chicken pox with a vengeance.  And apparently it’s a real issue (and I’m not just a mess).

Nine weeks later, I have overcome the itchiness and my general laziness.  So – where do I go from here?

Here’s what I’m thinking: Use the month of November as my “general running” month.  I won’t start on my half-marathon training yet – I’ll put that off until December.  Things I need to work on this month are:

• Hills.  Hills.  Hills.
• Increasing my speed – just a bit.
• RUNNING OUTSIDE.

I promise to get this done.  Especially the running outside thing.  I’ve been avoiding that like the plague.

It’s time to step up my game.  Only 139 days, 7 hours and 33 minutes until my 13.1 mile run.

 

ing nyc mar(athon) 2010

For the first time in my entire life, I care about running.  Not only do I want to become a runner, I want to watch other (real) runners in action – especially now that a very small (super small) part of me can relate to them.

The ING New York City Marathon is next Sunday, November 1st.  Weather permitting, I would love to go and watch the runners.  The more I read the race website – especially the Course Strategy – the more excited I become – not only for the thousands of runners participating, but also for my own race (Yes, the one I haven’t yet signed up for in March 2010.  I promise I’ll sign up before December 31st).

Anyway, how intense is 26.2 miles?  My brain absolutely cannot wrap itself around the idea of running that far.  ALL FIVE BOROUGHS. If I could high five every single runner, I totally would (except for the fact that I could get H1N1 or some other weird virus/disease).  They deserve crazy mad props for not only signing up for the race, but going through it.

I can’t wait until I have the guts to run 26.2 miles.  So.  Freaking.  Amazing.

First, I’ll tackle the 13.1.  Then I’ll probably tackle another 13.1.  Then maybe I’ll try the 26.2-er.

blog swap: daily obsessional in the house

Thanks to the folks at 20SB and their mad blog swapping skillz, I have a treat for everyone!  As promised, please enjoy the wonderfully amusing post below from Mila at Daily Obsessional.

Femme Fatale Wishes & Ill-fated Dreams

Whenever you watch film noir, there tends to be two categories of women ever present: the angelic, supportive woman who stands by her man despite his hard shell and boozy ways (sometimes a wife, other times a lowly secretary) and the other woman (the bad girl). For me, this other woman has always been the interesting one.

In fact, I’ve always wondered what it’d like be her; this woman so determined to get certain ends, often money, that she will use any means, hurt anyone, murder anyone, and smile all the way through the whole rotten thing. The idea of that kind of imagined power seems thrilling. Below I’ve compiled five reasons I’ve always wanted to be a femme fatale and one reason I decidedly don’t.

1. A little skin goes a long way.

In the days of Rock of Love Bus, the idea of subtle seduction tends to be lost on most of us.  Once upon a time, all Barbara Stanwyck had to flash was a little anklet and her man was ensnared. Now, that’s hot.

2. The bad girls get all the good lines.

“Kiss me, my Fool!”- Theda Bara
“I’m no angel, but I’ve spread my wings a bit”.- Mae West
”You’re no good, and neither am I,” ”That’s why we deserve each other.”- Jane Greer
“Spare me your brainless, countrified morality.”- Linda Fiorentino
“Personally, I’m convinced that alligators have the right idea. They eat their young.”- Eve Arden
“I don’t pray. Kneeling bags my nylons.”- Jan Sterling

3. Femme Fatales are kissed hard and often.


4.  Femme Fatales are always dressed to kill

The dark shades.The shady hats. The blood red lipstick. The trenchcoats. The robes. The gowns.  The cigarette, smoked just the right way. The look of a femme fatale is always utterly flawless.

5.  Anything is a weapon.

Two words: Ice pick.

And the one reason I really don’t wan’t to a femme fatale…

Almost every femme fatale gets her come-uppance in the end.  Whether she’s shot dead in her tracks Chinatown style, or taken away by the coppers Maltese Falcon style, a bad girl can’t catch a break in most film noir. In fact, often, it seems like the whole point of the thing is to punish the wayward women for her greed and blatant sexuality. Generally, this eventual demise serves to deter most of my femme fatale leanings.

Except, once in a while, the unexpected happens and the femme fatale gets away without a trace. Think, Kathleen Turner, in Body Heat. And the obsession continues.

Thanks to Deva for letting me call your blog home for the day. For those looking for more pop culture rants check out my blog Daily Obsessional. As for the literary minded my new writing blog is up and running. Enjoy.

where am i?

It’s been over 2 weeks since my last post and that is a huge problem.  I deeply apologize to those who have been patiently waiting for an update on my life since October 11th.

Side note: Not much has happened since then.

On a positive tone, you can expect lots of updates (maybe 2 or 3) from me today, including a post from an awesome guest blogger!

Stay tuned…

007

One of my most favorite video games ever is GoldenEye 007 for Nintendo 64.  As a matter of fact – a few years ago, I bought a used N64 just for that game.

During my 4th year at UVa I made a really bad judgment call – I decided to bring my N64 to Adam and Patrick’s apartment so everyone could play 007.  Actually, I brought it so I could kick everyone’s asses in the game (and feel good about myself).

What I didn’t know at the time was that Adam and Peter were hardcore 007 fans back in the day.  They actually spent large parts of their middle school years perfecting their 007 skills.

Sadly, those were the 2 people I really wanted to beat.

How could I be so stupid?

Anyway, both Adam and Peter beat me.  Badly.  No – they annihilated me.  It was a serious beat down.  And I was devastated.  Oddly enough, I’m still devastated over that incident (I really hate it when both Adam and Peter beat me at something).  And since I’m having a hard time letting that go, yesterday I bought 007 Quantum of Solace for Wii.

My objective: become a skilled master at 007 for Wii, invite Adam and Peter over for game night, then beat both of them down.  Badly.

Unfortunately, I can’t be so hard on the guys (dammit) because a) neither of them have a Wii and b) the game is kinda hard to get used to.  I just want my revenge :(

And yes, I am a bit competitive.

old movies

I really love movies (and musicals) pre-1970.

I was just adding movies to my netflix queue when I noticed a crazy pattern.  After Role Models (I can’t help it – I love Jane Lynch), I have:

• The Tender Trap (1955) – with Frank Sinatra and Debbie Reynolds
• Young at Heart (1954) – with Doris Day and Frank Sinatra

There’s already a pattern…

• That Touch of Mink (1962) – with Cary Grant and Doris Day
• Easter Parade (1948) – with Judy Garland and Fred Astaire
• A Star is Born (1954) – with Judy Garland and James Mason
• Bringing Up Baby (1938) – with Cary Grant and Katharine Hepburn
• Roman Holiday (1953) – with Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck

And oh man… if you could see a list of movies I’ve already seen – you’d find a lot more of Frank Sinatra, Doris Day, Judy Garland, Audrey Hepburn, and Cary Grant PLUS Gene Kelly.

I’m not gonna lie, though – the actresses are super awesome, but I really love Sinatra, Grant and Kelly.  I fall for their charm every time in every movie.

I put trailers for some of my favorites below…

Take Me Out To The Ball Game,1949

North by Northwest, 1959 (Thanks, Mr. Hitchcock)

letting go…

I’ve always enjoyed dancing.  Not just the act of dancing (I dance like a crazy person, FYI) – I also love watching people dance.  From the Flamenco to ballet to swing to hip-hop… and so on.  I love watching it all.

But my favorite of all time is tap.

I’ve loved tap dancing since forever ago and I still can’t get enough of it.  There’s something about the rhythms made that blows my mind.

Check this out:

Lesson 1: Never challenge a tap dancer over the age of 70.  They will win.

Lesson 2: Sammy Davis Jr. and Gregory Hines were AMAZING dancers.

If you’re still not convinced tap dance is the greatest thing ever, check this out:

Lesson 1: Tap is awesome. The end.

Anyway, I should get to the point of this entry – which more than just confessing my undying obsession with tap dance.

I’ve always wanted to be a tap dancer.  Throughout college and grad school, I was always looking for inexpensive classes (I was/am a poor college/post-grad student/person).  Finally, 10 months ago, I hit the jackpot – the 92nd Street Y.  From February through June, I tapped my heart out once a week – and it was fantastic.  I couldn’t wait to start again in the Fall.

That brings us to now.  The Fall.

Unfortunately, I’m in a completely different situation than 10 months ago.  I’m even more broke (I’m saving up for a macbook) and I’m learning how to run/training for a half-marathon.  And work is a zillion times more mentally draining – which means, I’m exhausted after work everyday.

I had to re-evaluate my priorities.

Right now running trumps tap (the exercise is really, really important to me)… so I had to let tap go.  I really hate to do it, but there are at least 5 other things I need to focus on right now.  Also, I could put the $200 towards the new computer that I badly need.

On the bright side, I will continue to love tap dancing and admire the mad skill of every dancer.  That will never go away.

And one more (from my favorite movie):