A Series of Top Fives

After I first read "High Fidelity" by Nick Hornby in the seventh grade, I've been obsessed with Top 5-lists. My journals are filled with them, top five favorite stores ( in Syracuse: H&M, dElia's, Wegman's, Soundgarden, Salvation Army), top five favorite non-crappy hiphop artists (Wu Tang Clan, Mos Def, Cypress Hill, Gatas Parliament, A Tribe Called Quest), top five over-all things this week, etc. Here are a series of recent top fives I've compiled:

Top Five Simpsons Characters:

Troy McClure

The info-video guy who was married to Selma for a hot second. He is hilarious, and so not featured on the show often enough.

Ned Flanders

The Simpsons’ Chris-toodilly-dish-tian neighborino. Also amazing. I like him because he’s such a winner.

Ranier Wolfcastle

The action movie star and parody of Arnie the Governator himself. I love Arnold Schwartzeneger and thus I love Ranier by default. 

Patti and Selma

Chain-smoking, lovesick spinsters. J’Adore!

Rod and Todd Flanders:

Rod and Todd jumping on a trampoline:

Rod: Each leap brings us closer to God!

Todd: Catch me Lord! Catch me! 

Top Five Favorite Songs this Week:

Never Miss a Beat- Kaiser Chiefs
Catchy, hip, funky-- whatever middle-aged parents adjective you wish to use in order to describe this song. It’s a good dance song.

Paper Planes- M.I.A
Ridiculous, but oh so catchy. I love me a gal who can sing about visa-fraud and robbing people at gunpoint while using illustrative sampling. (“All I wanna do is *gunshots* and a’ *the ka-ching! of a cash register* and take your money!”)

You Speak My Language- Morphine
Now, I am totally addicted to Morphine (pun!) and I am way sadder (more sad?) about singer Mark Sandman’s death then I am about any other artist’s. Morphine makes me think of dark, smoke-filled bars filled with men wearing sunglasses inside, loose women smoking cigarettes, and lipstick on wineglasses.

S.O.S- Abba 
Shh… So lame, but it’s so good! (And those  two B's sure are sexy, eh?)

Sea of Love- Cat Power
Love it because of Juno, the scene where it played made me bawl. I also sing it for my daughter while putting her to sleep.

Top Five Favorite TV-Shows this Month:

True Blood
Six Feet Under-creator Alan Ball’s newest show on HBO, I’ve only seen a couple of episodes, but so far I like it. Featuring vampires, southern accents, telepaths, Anna Paquin, whodunit murder mysteries, the 14-year old goth in me loves it, but the (almost) 19- year old mom in me is still a little skeptical.

Americas Next Top Model Cycle 11
Cue the boo-s! I’m fully aware of how problematic this show is. But this is good TV, y’all! I adore fashion, crazy hairdos, and interesting make-up. Plus this cycle is extra special, because it features this beautiful Russian, tattooed, activist vixen, ELINA! *siiiiiiigh* (Let it also be known that I hereby predict that Elina will win this cycle! You heard it here first.)

Season 5 of The Office
If you watch it, you’ll agree.

The Simpsons

I recently discovered a website that shows all 19 seasons of this magnificent show for free, so, needless to say, I’ve been marathoning. It’s so funny, and smart and poignant, and contemporary. I don’t know what else to say about it, it’s just amazing.

Dexter Season 3
I’ve only seen the first episode, but from what we’ve experienced from the previous ones, this should be good too. Plus, Micheal C. Hall is such an awesome actor, he deserves so much more recognition, yo.

Top Five Most Attractive this Month:
We’ll just let the pictures speak for themselves…

Elina

Adrian Brody

Forever my dreamboat...

Anne-Lynne McCord

Jessica Alba

And  the most beautiful of all these knockouts:
Niels

Am I not Native enough?

When are people gonna stop correcting me on my self-proclaimed racial status? I am half Norwegian, half American Indian, Leech Lake Ojibwe to be specific. I maybe light-skinned, which has always been somewhat of an annoyance to me, (so thank Goddess for the miracle of tanning booths!) but I’m not white.

Ever since I was a kid friends and high school peers have been telling me I wasn’t Indian. Not just that group of rez-boys when I was little, but white and black people as well! The white kids of suburban Rochester always subtly:

“Oh, you ARE? Wow, you, like, really can’t tell.” 

Inner-city black kids have been a bit more straightforeward:

“Shit, Nina. You ‘bout as white as they come, yo.”

It’s not like I don’t know I’m not nut-brown with long sleek black hair and that I don’t have a pet raccoon as a sidekick, but I’m not blond, blue-eyed, battle-ax toting Viking either. I’ve spent good chunks of my life both on my families reservation as well as the Norwegian countryside. I check the “Other” box when questioned about my ethnicity, I read AIM autobiographies, embrace and question my white privilege, have danced in powwows, etc. I am bi-racial, thank you. I just tend to find the native half of my culture a tad more interesting.

My fellow halfbreed in crime, my best friend Reina and I got tattoos. Reina got an Incan man in celebration of her Colombian side of the family, and I got a Thunder Bird, which would be my Indian name, not the car.  So after a session of searing pain...

We ended up with awesome new wounds that look a little something like this:

A few weeks later, my boyfriend, family and I were at this little touristy “AUTHENTIC NATIVE AMERICAN TOTEM POLE” shop at Niagara Falls. The owner of this place was a man who both looked and sounded very asian, as he came up to me and said very mysteriously:

“Ah, what a beautiful new tattoo. What does it symbolize?”

Me: “Oh, thank you. Well, it’s a Thunder Bird that my friend designed. My tr---“

Him: “No.”

Me: “...”

Him: “The Native American thunder bird can be recognized by the feathers on top of its head, like an owl, such as the one you can see over there on that wooden sculpture I have made. So, your friend has made a huge mistake. That tattoo is a RAVEN!”

Me (pretty surprised and a little insulted considering I have just branded this “Raven” forever onto my skin): “Uh, no. It’s an Ojibwe THUNDER BIRD! Based on these old cave designs and Ojibwe beadwork!”

Then I am given a lecture about how he knows better, his grandmother was an Indian from British Columbia, and even though my tattoo is a very nice raven, it’s still not a thunderbird because it lacks feathers on it’s head. 

Needless to say, we left without purchasing anything.

Later, when retelling this story to my father, he pointed out the fact that the guy was a little sad. He probably did have an Indian grandma from British Columbia who he heard all about as a kid and then spent a lot of his adult life trying to learn about native culture. 

So, I suppose I can’t be too hard on the guy, because in the end we’re all just trying to be Indian enough, aren’t we?