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At this point, those of you that have followed along with Cherthursday are becoming more than Cherducated in the department of all things fabulous and sparkly. That is why I feel comfortable hitting you hard and fast with a plethora of interesting and informative Cherfacts… that I will soon, at an undisclosed date and time, test you on. We are talking Grammy’s, Oscars, Golden Globe’s and Emmy’s here folks! This is serious stuff. This is Cher. Enjoy.
- Mother, with Gregg Allman, of Elijah Blue Allman.
- Diagnosed with dyslexia at the age of 30.
- Had started dating producer David Geffen after she and estranged husband Sonny Bono split up.
- Was living with rock musician Gene Simmons of Kiss for several years.
- Her sister, Georganne LaPiere, was the first wife of Michael Madsen.
- Offered the part of Thelma in Thelma & Louise (1991).
- Half-sister-in-law of Michael Madsen.
- Half-sister of Georganne LaPiere.
- Her father was Armenian, her mother was part Cherokee.
- Legally changed her name from “Cherilyn Sarkisian LaPierre Bono Allman” to simply “Cher.”
- Beat out Celine Dion’s “My Heart Will Go On” for the best selling single of 1998 with “Believe.”
- Wanted to play Morticia in the The Addams Family (1991), but the part went to Anjelica Huston.
- Her favourite makeup artist, Kevyn Aucoin, died in 2002 of a brain tumor.
- Has mostly been living in London, UK over the last few years.
- Holds the record for a female artist who has the longest span from entering the top 100 (“I Got You Babe” #1 1965, “Song For The Lonely” #85 2002).
- Holds the record for the the longest gap between #1 hits (“Dark Lady” 1974, “Believe” 1999).
- Holds the record for oldest female artist with a #1 hit (“Believe”).
- Son, Elijah Allman, fronts the band Deadsy.
- Half-sister-in-law of actress Virginia Madsen.
- Is tying with Mako as the Oscar-nominated actor throughout history with the shortest name. Technically wins, as her name is only one syllable and is her actual legal name.
- Suffers from fear of flying.
- Wears size 8 shoes.
- Cher’s very first recording was novelty record “I Love You Ringo,” under the name of Bonnie Jo Mason in 1963.
- Her parents married and divorced 3 times.
- Measurements: 32B-24-36 (in 1990), 34C-24-35 1/2 (after breast lift surgery), 35 1/2 -25 1/2-36 (late 1990s), (Source: Celebrity Sleuth magazine).
- She won an Grammy in 1999 for the song “Believe” and an Emmy in 2003 for a special on her farewell concert tour.
- Spoke the eulogy at ex-husband Sonny Bono’s funeral.
- Ranked #43 on VH1′s “100 Greatest Women of Rock N Roll.”
- Wore braces as an adult.
- Her 1998 hit single “Believe” was ranked #60 on VH1′s 100 Greatest Dance Songs.
- A 2002 Rolling Stone article estimated her wealth at over 600 million dollars. Since then she has embarked on a hugely successful farewell tour that is still going and released a greatest hits CD that has spent weeks in the the Billboard Top 10.
- Is a big Katharine Hepburn fan.
- Although her video “If I Could Turn Back Time” is often cited as the first video to be banned by MTV, this is not true. The Rolling Stones (“Neighbors”), The Ramones (“Psychotherapy”) and Laura Branigan all had videos banned several years beforehand.
- Mother, with Sonny Bono, of Chastity Bono.
- Named after Lana Turner’s daughter Cheryl Crane.
- Is the only certified female performer in music history to have had a U.S #1 single in the 1960s 1970s 1980s and 1990s.
- She and Barbra Streisand are the only two female performers in the U.S. to have had a #1 hit and won an Oscar.
- Has appeared solo on the cover of People magazine a near record 13 times.
- In addition to her Oscar and Emmy wins, Cher won a 2000 Grammy for the song “Believe” as Best Dance Recording.
- US-born Cher is the most famous Hollywood personality of Armenian ethniciy, the USSR-born genius Sergei Parajanov is the most famous non-Hollywood Armenian cinema personality.
- In a recent poll, A&E’s Biography Magazine ranked her as people’s Number 3 favorite actress of all time behind her two Hollywood idols, Katharine Hepburn and .
- She was the subject of an episode of “The X Files” (1993) called “The Post-Modern Prometheus” (5X06; first aired November 3, 1997). This episode concerned a deformed man who adored Cher because of her role in Mask (1985), in which her character cared for her deformed son. Several Cher songs appeared on the soundtrack of this episode, including “Gypsies, Tramps, and Thieves” and “The Sun Ain’t Gonna Shine Anymore”. At the end of the episode, Mulder and Scully take the Cher fan to a Cher concert, where they hear her sing her cover of “Walkin’ in Memphis”. Cher, an “X-Files” fan, was asked to play herself in this scene but declined the producers’ offer. However, she revealed on The X-Files Movie Special (1998) (TV) that once the episode aired, she regretted not having appeared in it.
- Was called to be offered the role in The Witches of Eastwick (1987) on the morning of her 40th birthday.
- Her Oscar-winning part in Moonstruck (1987) was originally offered to Sally Field, who turned it down
(All of the fabulous information above was found at: http://www.netglimse.com/celebs/pages/cher/index.shtml)
Yesterday I stayed home from work for no other reason but that the idea of not going to work heavily outweighed the idea of going. It was an incredibly gorgeous fall day. The sun was shining so brightly that it was making the trees in my yard look like they were glowing bright red and yellow and orange. The Seal and I spent the whole day outside. Our big project for the day was to get the rest of the fire wood chopped up and stacked.
I don’t know if it was just a good day or if it was the universe attempting to validate my choice in ditching responsibility, but my whole day was filled with sweet little moment after moment. I met several of the neighbors that I had yet to properly introduce myself to, including a four year old named Jeremy, who while walking by with his mom, just plopped down on my steps and started asking more questions about chopping wood than the sky has stars. He and I started trying to decide, “before I hit the wood with that axle”, if it would totally split or not. We did this by holding the wood and looking at the rings. We decided together that the less heavy the wood or the more grainy the wood, the easier it would be to “chop it up!” We were right 4 out of 5 hits with the axle.
A few minutes after Jeremy left the old man that lives two houses down came walking by. He was wearing a blue US Navy sweatshirt tucked into his jeans with suspenders, a beat up Navy hat, and holding the leash of his tiny little Jack Russell dog. He and I have had quick ‘hellos’ in passing but this time he stood on the sidewalk and chatted away while I hacked away at the fire wood offering an ‘oh really?’ or ‘wow, that sounds really interesting!’ now and then. He told me he was about to go to his friend’s farm “to visit and pick up some goods.” He asked me, “Hey, you ever heard a such a thing as blueberry jelly? Well, cause my friend has it, makes it himself.” He also claimed that his friend grew the tastiest corn you could find… and he means anywhere!
Right before he left we had a quick exchange that won my heart:
Old man: I’ll tell ya what, it’s not very often you see a woman choppin’ up the wood. Normally, I mean, you see the man doin’ it.
me: Well, if I had a man, maybe I’d have him do it.
Old man: Why dontcha?
me: Don’t want one.
Old man: Well, you don’t say. Happy choppin to ya then.
A few hours later I left for my woodworking class and got home around 9. Violet was inside cooking up a storm of several incredible dishes to have a late night dinner together. In the midst of juggling all four burners she asked, “Hey, why is there a bag of fresh corn by the front door?”
I was the graduation speaker in college. And before you think I am trying to get you to ooh and aah about how good-n-learned that jesse james must be, or before you give me crap about bragging here, bare in mind two things: 1. I graduated from a program with no grades, and 2. All roads in this post lead to Cher, because it is Thursday, and this is a necessary piece to the story.
So, my democratic student body, sans the conformed process of measuring intellect, had to decide who would represent our cohort in the graduation ceremony. We all sat around a big round table, like we did for all decisions that needed to be made, and we voted.
But, before the voting took place we went around the table and each student was giving the opportunity to say a piece about why they would be the best (wo)man for the job. This ‘honor’ was being dealt out 3 weeks before the end of our final quarter. To me (and a few others) this ‘honor’ was a thinly wrapped extra to-do in the thick of trying to graduate. We were all bogged down with completing our thesis amongst all of the other academic hoops thrown at you, purely designed as the final attempt to push a student over the edge before they receive their 40-60k piece of paper, formally admitting, in loopy fonts and signatures, that we did in fact cross the privileged finish line.
When it was my turn at the table to speak I said, “Listen here my fellow academics, you vote for me and I will offer nothing more than drinking references and Cher. I got shit to do and am not about to try and write a speech.” And even with what I considered a fairly decent threat, the bastards voted for me.
So, on the night of graduation, amongst all of our family, friends, advisors and professors, I walked up to the podium and gave a ten minute bit about this and that and closed with something close to this:
“In the deeply profound words of Maya Angeh…. Eh hem, I’m sorry, I mean, in the profound words of Cher, I offer you this: “If you really want something, you can figure out how to make it happen.” And, in the wise words of my grandfather (and a few bad country songs), if what you really want is taking a while to happen, just remember, “it’s five o’clock somewhere.” Thank you, good night.”
The reason I mention this is because I just stumbled upon an awesome Cher website that outChers my ass big time and one of the many fabulous pages has Cher quotes, including the one in my speech. I’m telling you, this website is Cherilicious. So, dig around, learn something new about the Goddess of all things Sparkley and Fabulous and enjoy.
And, as Cher and I have both missed a few Thursday’s I offer a bonus. This is the Cher-comeback classic and it is good. Very good. Chergood. Which is a higher compliment than anything – squared.
Happy Friday-eve, all. Happy Cherday!
My mom was in town this weekend and we had a wonderful time. I have declared her ‘easiest house guest alive.” I mean, Violet and I prepared some: cleaned up the house, hid what needed to be hidden, dusted off and displayed certain things- but we would do that to some degree for anyone. My mom is so easy going and so fun to hang out with that it is totally effortless on my part to have her around. She has always been one of my favorite people, which is fortunate for me considering I am exponentially becoming nothing more than a younger, butch version of her. Every time I get an extended amount of time with her it becomes clearer and clearer that we are only a few reasons away from being the same person. I know I’m like my dad too, but it’s different. I am like my dad whereas I am my mother, you know?
For me, there was a very particular, exact moment when I realized that I was, in fact, my mother. Come November it was 8 years ago exactly.
I was lazily lying around on a quiet, pristine beach in Mexico when I had finally roasted myself enough to want a quick swim. I stood up and ran towards the water and as that first wave hit me I let out this higher than I would have expected “AAaaAaaagh!” sound and immediately froze. I stood there waist deep in the ocean, frantically looking all over the beach for my mom. This is a sound that only she makes and that she has made all of my life when anything takes her off guard. And it took me several seconds to realize that that sound, the one that only my mom makes, that I had just heard clear as the water I was in, had come out of me.
And just like that, still standing like a statue of myself in the ocean, my brain told me this: “There is no escape. you. are. your. mother.”
And so I swam around for a bit, trying to re-realize everything about me – like I was trying to reconfigure myself back into myself with this new information. Incorporate my individuality with all of the pieces that are only me because of her. And I know I know I know, I am damn lucky, because she is a fabulous woman. Remarkably kind. She has always reminded me of sunshine, which is why my place in the world at that exact moment made it that much easier to soak her in too.
Since then there have been a plethora of moments where the fact that I am my mom is totally undeniable and totally beyond my control. We have a very similar body shape in general, we both mindlessly bite our bottom lip, we both care too much about where we sit in restaurants, we both have an identical explosive ‘pah hah’ laugh when we are surprised by something funny, we both have and care too much about our fabulous hair, we are both described by others as a tad dramatic in nature, we have the same expressions, a lot of the same mannerisms, and by the end of a few days together we are saying the same things at the same time… and then we laugh, exactly the same way, about having just said the same thing at the exact same time.
So, is it like that for all daughters? Do we all have that defining moment where it becomes undeniable that parts of who we are are only because of our mother? (Do I sound like Carrie Brandshaw sans typing this at home in my underwear with a cigarette and a Tartini at my side?)
Speaking of sharing things, right before my mom got to our house my computer was open with jljj on the screen. Before Violet closed it down she asked, “Does your mom know about our blog?
Ours, huh? Good to know.
So, WordPress tells me a thing or two about what’s going on with this blogomine. Not much mind you, just things like how many people stopped by and how they found me. Yesterday’s google searches were by far my favorite… ever. Mostly because they were all so random and (almost) all of the inquiries found something that related.
Google searches that led the unexpected to jljj:
1. Can you feed raccoons?
2. Jennifer Beals naked
3. caught with a woody
5. Is ocean foam whale pee
6. roll up with bobby pins
7. are the golden girls still alive
8. baby piggies
9. A fish knows everything
10. cher cher cher
11. Jesse James is a dickwad (um, sorry, no link to that one…)
The reason for this post is my sincere curiosity in this:
Who googled “IS OCEAN FOAM WHALE PEE?” Seriously.
Do I know you? Did my dad’s bullshit somehow get to you as a kid and you just found out yesterday, first in a crowded room and then on google that he was totally full of it? Was he? Is ocean foam whale pee?
(As Cher has Vegas Throat and has cancelled 6 shows, I too am letting her off the hook for her Cherthursday slot on jljj this week. Rest up Cher, we love you. )
Together, Violet and I are in a double-drama relationship. We, the king and queen of our own personal Dramaland are most definitely drama-squared. I have seen different combos of drama and non-drama in relationships and my preference has always been at least one drama king/queen but never none and sometimes two is fun… dramatic, but fun, none the less. We are both completely aware of our dramatic nature and will gladly admit to these titles (except for when we won’t, but that is just us being dramatic).
For the most part I find it entertaining, except for when it’s not. Like last night when we both got all comfy in our bed and Violet wouldn’t stop shivering while I contended that we were going to die in our sleep of hypothermia if we didn’t put another blanket on the bed and close the windows.
But here is where double-drama doesn’t work, or maybe this is where it is working at its dramatic best: both of us refused to get up and do anything about it. Why? Because we both competitively claimed that we were the most comfortable we had ever been in our lives and if we got up right then we would be ruining the best moment of comfort ever felt by a human being in the history of the whole world.
Finally, Violet’s shivering, now accompanied by teeth chattering and irregular breathing, irritated me enough to give in and get up. I threw the covers off of me like I was in battle with them, heavily stomped down the stairs, banging and clanging things that had nothing to do with finding a blanket, stomped back up the stairs, flipped on the bedroom light (admittedly over-the-top rude), tossed the blanket on the bed with these caveman grunts, like putting this blanket on the bed was incredibly taxing and pushing my physical capability over the top, flopped back into bed like a scuba diver flops into the ocean off the boat, tossed around fluffing pillows and such until I was sure Violet was annoyed and then said, “Well, thanks to me we’re not going to die in our sleep.” And Violet said, “Of hypothermia, anyway. You really drive me nuts. And I love you. ”
And then I put my arm around her and off to dreamland we went.
Dear, sweet jljj readers,
Due to a few comments and emails I think I unintentionally confused (worried?) a few of you, which was not my intention.
To clarify: The unidentified smokin’ hot girl mentioned in my last post was in fact Violet.
I don’t mean to squash the mystery here either, but, rest assured that I would not and will not be accepting undergarments from any other.
Sorry Cher, there are very few things that could trump your having the top Thursday slot… but this week there just is.
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Last Saturday I was out with a friend until around 11ish. As I was driving home I pulled up to a red light, looked over at the car next to me and saw this girl sitting by herself in the driver’s seat, obviously quite content with whatever was on the radio. This girl was remarkably beautiful. I mean hot. Not ooh hot, not ouch hot, not uh oh hot, not even damn hot. I’m talkin within degrees of the sun hot. The hottest hot squared.
I stared and stared until I finally caught her eye. She looked over and shot a big, gorgeous smile just as the light turned.
I continued to drive next to her, hoping another light would turn red.
Idling side by side again, she looked over at me, tilted her head forward with a devious little grin and began to fuss with the back of her shirt.
As we both started to drive she grabbed the steering wheel with both hands, tossed her head back and laughed. I’m pretty sure she was laughing at me: this dude with eyeballs the size of plates and whose jaw had dropped to the road. I continued to drive at her pace. And even though she never looked over she knew I was right there.
My face was plastered to the window, like a puppy that wants in, waiting for her to give me some attention. Without ever looking over at me, her passenger window started to roll down as she gave me that hand gesture to roll my window down too.
With both of our windows wide open I just sat there staring at her with nothing in between us. She never looked over. I could hear her radio and I could clearly see her cocky little grin with detail. Right before the light turned green, and I am talking under a second’s time here, she flung her wrist towards me. In this sort of slow motion moment something black and lacy came hurling at me and into my car. When it finally landed it swirled and twisted itself around the stick shift.
She looked over at me and winked proudly. I wrapped my hand around her bra to shift and we both took off.