"Will The Real Classy Please Stand Up?"

As some of you may have surmised, Ms. Classy isn't what one would call a girly girl. Sure, I like being a lady, but you won't see me posting about flowers, horses, or my favorite new perfume and/or feminine hygiene product. I leave that to the experts. I may throw a post in here or there about unicorns or pandas, but most likely it will involve these creatures getting into a fight at a demolition derby because one threw a tasty beverage at the other, or the scuffle ensued to prove once and for all which one is more of a bad ass (My odds are on the panda, but I'm biased).

So, answer me this . . . why have I recently reverted to having girl-like tendencies?

For example, last weekend on the Oh! network they were playing what seemed like a continuous loop of the movie Two Weeks Notice.



Now, this movie is really a piece of crap and stars Sandra Bullock and Hugh Grant in a typical love/hate relationship movie that ends in love. I know that it is utterly bunk, but I still watched some of it and get this, almost started weeping at the end when Hugh Grant goes into the legal aid office that Ms. Bullock (who kind of looks like a character from the Dark Crystal) works and reads a speech in which he professes his desire to do her up against the wall. Really, what is wrong with me?

Then, when I went out later that evening a singer was doing this Wizard of Oz montage and started singing "If I Only Had A Brain". People, have you heard this song and actually listened to the lyrics? The singer crooned in a serious tone the following, "I'd unravel any riddle for any individd-el in trouble or in pain . . . I would not be just a nothin'. My head all full of stuffin'. My heart all full of pain. Perhaps I deserve you and be even worthy erve you if I only had a brain . . ." Man, this song is depressing as all get out. I never knew it until that night, and again, I felt the weeps coming on. Okay, seriously, I wanted to hang myself like the Wizard of Oz crew guy you have to slow-mo in order to see.

To top off my weekend I decided to catch some of the Primetime Emmys hosted by my boy Conan O'Brien hoping that he would take me out of my doldrums. While there were some funny bits, like Bob Hope*** being trapped in a container with only three hours of air, they had to go and ruin my emotional upswing by having an American Bandstand tribute. Dick Clark, who had a stroke recently, was at the podium sitting down in a wheelchair like mechanism and thanked everyone for the tribute. He is not the Dick Clark that everyone remembers, no siree Bob. He is a Dick Clark that our grandparents become right before they enter the great bandstand in the sky.

So, I told myself, "C’mon Classy, get it together and snap out of it! Listen to some Lisa Lisa and Cult Jam and get over yourself! Fire up the Madonna’s "Into the Groove", proceed with Stacey Q’s "Two of Hearts", eat some sprees, drink some Jolt Cola and take it up a notch! Follow up "Two of Hearts" with . . . And you will know us by the Trail of Dead’s "A Perfect Teenhood" and start kicking ass and taking names!"

And so it is written and so it is done . . .

***I stand corrected. Cherry has brought it to my attention that it was indeed Bob Newhart, not Hope, that was in the bubble. My apologies to the Queen Mother.