Do you all remember your first trip? No, I’m not talking about Spring Weekend 2012. I’m talking about 2002, when you got your first Lisa Frank school folder:
Or what about that notebook?
In one way or another, Lisa Frank products and the elusive identity of Lisa Frank herself have together crafted our psychedelic fantasies.
If you’re a senior on the brink of a quarter-life crisis, and either have no post-grad plans OR are looking to live the rest of your life in what appears to be a combination of kindergarten and an upper-level MCM and/or VISA class, we’ve found just the thing for you. We’ve got the scoop that CareerLAB doesn’t.
Universally, it is accepted that everybody loves 3 things: bubble wrap, birthday clowns, and nostalgia. This column aims to play upon the sentimentality inherent in every reader by paying homage to a key “retro” pop culture item.
This Week’s Throwback: School of Rock
Some movies are good for a single reason: the script is well written or it has sweet special effects or it stars Michael Jordan and Bugs Bunny, etc. Other movies are like School of Rock (directed by Richard Linklater, the genius behind Boyhood) and are great not for a single reason, but for a multitude.
The greatness of this movie begins, but does not end, with the following premise: a down on his luck enthusiastic, sweaty, hairy, talented and charismatic guitar player Dewey Finn, after being kicked out of his band, is living with his substitute teacher-friend, Ned Schneee Ned S. and Ned’s girlfriend, played by Sarah Silverman. His band members replace him with a guy who wears this shirt. Also, that guy’s name is Spider.
One day, Dewey, referred to from here on out as Jack Black, receives a call from a local school asking if Ned will substitute for a teacher who has broken a leg. Sensing a decently-compensated opportunity, Jack Black accepts the job. Continue Reading
Ever wonder if songs you were singing at a young age were completely age-inappropriate? They were! This column is a trip down memory lane that will have you asking, “Why was I singing this at such a young age? What do these lyrics even mean? Where were my parents?!”
No, but really, what was this song?
It’s fun to imagine party goers at Brown in the late 90s going crazy when this one song came on the speaker — or whatever they used back then to blast music through the halls of Keeney.
This mostly unintelligible song was released in 1998, and I remember it was on my copy of Now That’s What I Call Music 4. Other tracks included Macy Gray’s “I Try,” Blink 182’s “All the Small Things,” and Jennifer Lopez’s “Waiting for Tonight.” What a playlist.
Below is an attempt at interpreting the song, though it will forever remain a puzzle.
Last year, Blog rejoiced when Halloween fell on #ThrowbackThursday. This year, we are not so fortunate: Halloween coincides with #FlashbackFriday, a watered down pseudo-version of #TBT, the classic and culturally accepted weekly Instagram holiday. We could not, however, resist getting involved in the most overkill social media-induced nostalgia trip of the year just because of the pesky Gregorian calendar…so, we have curated a BlogPanel of simpler days when Halloween wasn’t about muploading from the Whiskey Republic and out-punning your frenemies. Happy #FlashbackFriday!
Our editor-in-chief, Georgia Tollin (far left), mustache you a question.
Ever wonder if songs you were singing at a young age were completely age-inappropriate? They were! This column will be a trip down memory lane that will have you asking, “Why was I singing this at such a young age? What do these lyrics even mean? Where were my parents?!”
Flashback to November 2002. Avril Lavigne was taking the music of teenage angst by storm with the release of her album Let Go, which included singles “Complicated” and “Sk8ter Boi.”
This album also contained the treasure that is “I’m With You,” which I had always assumed was a romantic song. Goodness, I was wrong. Shall we dissect these lyrics?
I’m standing on a bridge I’m waiting in the dark I thought that you’d be here by now
First off, is she okay? This seems extremely dangerous. Is she running away from home? Is this a romantic gesture like in Sex in the City when Miranda plans to meet Steve if they decide to forgive and forget? TL;DR: she’s waiting at night, so I’m worried for her safety.
It is universally accepted that everybody loves 3 things: parfaits, birthday clowns, and nostalgia. This column aims to play upon the sentimentality inherent in every reader by remembering a key “retro” pop culture item.
Yes, this column is being run on a Thursday.
This week’s Throwback: Vanessa Carlton Walking A Thousand Miles
Give me your Swifts, your Grandes, your huddled Cyruses yearning to breathe free. I say you can have ‘em, just give me an iPod Video loaded up with just one MP3: AThousand Miles by Vanessa Carlton.
2001 was a great year for music and my life. I learned some basic addition. Collected a boatload of money for UNICEF. Got teeth knocked out by—in no particular order—a dodgeball, a soccer ball, and a girl’s fist. Listened to a whole bunch of Radio Disney.
Hearing AThousandMiles brings back all of these early childhood memories. It is, for me, a musical representation of both the catchy melodies that permeated throughout my childhood as well as the literal distance it felt like my mom drove us to school every morning. Later, this song would be relevant again in my life when I first watched the White Chicks scene where Terry Crews sings it. It was the first time I teared up from laughter. It wouldn’t be the last.