The Washington Post's pick as the best album of the year:

1. Dixie Chicks, "Taking the Long Way"
Forget, for a moment, about the controversy that enveloped the Dixie Chicks after lead singer Natalie Maines popped off about President Bush in 2003. Forget the backlash, the evaporating airplay, the protests, Toby Keith, the death threats, the naked magazine cover, the politics -- all of it. Put down the baggage and pick up the Texas trio's latest album and revel in the rich melodies, the soaring harmonies, the sharp writing and gorgeous instrumentation and sense of soul. It's a tuneful tour de force, a triumph of pop songcraft that's a little bit country, a little bit more soft-rock-and-roll. Of course, it's impossible to forget about the back story, because the Chicks won't let you. While this isn't an album-length diatribe, the Chicks aren't biting their tongues, either: They're downright defiant in "Not Ready to Make Nice," one of the great singles of 2006. So they're not exactly contrite and conciliatory. Isn't being great good enough?

Click here to see the rest of their top 10.

Labels: dixie chicks, top 10

Back in the day, women gathered to quilt, to sew, to knit, to crochet, primarily because these were things that needed to be done. It was part of being a good wife, a good woman, to be able to create clothing, blankets, warmth in general. Now we live in a time of convenience, but while it might be easy to purchase clothes and bedding, it's harder and harder to get together with our friends.

Over the better part of the last year I've spent one Wednesday a week at a friend's house. We started out just making patchwork quilts, because that's really all we knew to do. Then we bought some simple patterns and started making pajama pants as well. When a friend requested hats for Christmas, we took a class on how to use a knitting round and now we're knitting away, scarfs and hats for all our friends.

We've even invited other friends to join us for our crafting days. And while the end product is nice, and I love being able to give my friends and family handmade blankets and scarfs, I think the real reason we get together is simply to have community. We really want other girls to join us. We treasure the time we have together.

I think in terms of my friendship with this friend, that is has brought us closer than had we just gotten together for lunch, or to the movies. When we create, we go through everything together. The frustrations with our sewing machines, the confusion at how to put patterns together so all the fabric faces right, the thought we put into creating stuff that's been specially requested, all brings us closer.

I can't wait to see what we make next year!

Labels: crafting, crafts, friendship, knitting, quilting, sewing, women

She's willing to kill you to help you:

Bonnie "Xena" Burton, a 15-year-old professional gamer, is... an early member of the PMS Clan, an all-girl gaming club of more than 250 members. Their motto: "We may have boobs, but that doesn't make us nØØbs"... When she's not competing, she moonlights as one of 14 elite gaming coaches at Gaming-Lessons.com. The business was started in 2005, and it already has celebrity clients like NBA players Luke Walton and Richard Jefferson and rappers Lil Dru and Moka Blast... For coaching, she earns $25 an hour, which meant the teenager could quit baby-sitting local kids. The higher hourly wage could free her to pursue hobbies like horseback riding and dance.

Labels: video game

Paris Hilton said she hasn't had sex in “About six or seven months, I think. I don’t care,” reports the London Mirror. “I would rather just make out and kiss someone instead of sex.”

Cameron Diaz says her favorite way to relax is to have sex. “Sex is the most amazing stress reliever... I actually think it’s the best thing for everything! I think it should be 100 percent part of everyone’s life on a day-to-day basis. We’d all be a lot happier!”

Different folks, different strokes.

Labels: camaron diaz, paris hilton, sex

Pamela Anderson talking about Kid Rock and her appearance in Borat:

Pamela Anderson showed up on Thursday's "Howard Stern" for a little chat, and confirmed that her cameo in "Borat" had actually been a pretty big deal to Kid Rock just before they both filed for divorce. "He was unhappy about that," she told Stern. "I don't know why -- you'd have to ask him -- but he really was very unhappy about that." When Stern asked her why she married Kid Rock in the first place -- after divorcing Tommy Lee, she once said she'd never get married again -- Anderson said, "It was a big mistake, but I was in St. Tropez, I would have married the fisherman on the corner!" (Us Online)

Labels: borat, kid rock, pamela anderson

Extracted from an article by Rebecca Traister

We need to acknowledge that Hilton is not simply a tabloid diversion but a malevolent blight on the pop culture landscape.

For too many years we have sat, paralyzed in the tractor beam of her wall-eyed celebrity, watching mutely as bad things happened to her band of D-list compatriots. We have witnessed the declining personal fortunes and liver health of her rotating cast of skuzzball BFFs, boyfriends and frenemies -- Bijou Phillips, Nicole Richie, Kimberly Stewart, Lindsay Lohan, Brandon Davis, Stavros Niarchos, Tara Reid -- because, really, who the hell were those people, anyway?

But then, a couple of weeks ago, Hilton started messing with Britney Spears, weighing down Spears' Phoenix-flight from her crapola marriage to grody Kevin Federline by dressing her up in tutus, taking her partying till all hours, and encouraging her to flash her whiskerless nether regions to paparazzi...

It's time to admit that Paris Hilton, that creepy dollie, must be destroyed. Metaphorically, of course.

Frankly, the time could not be more ripe for a recognition of Hilton's "Bad Seed" villainy. Even before her tabloid molestation of Spears, eyes were beginning to spring wide with comprehension. Three weeks ago, former "Saturday Night Live" head writer Tina Fey told Howard Stern about her antipathy for Hilton, calling the heiress a selfish, untalented, brainless "piece of shit" "SNL" guest host who is "unbelievably dumb and so proud of how dumb she is," and left "nasty wads of Barbie hair" on the floor of the studio. Meanwhile, conservative Manhattan Institute writer Kay S. Hymowitz wrote a piece in City Journal about the pervasive loathing of Hilton, summing up quite neatly Hilton's role as a "synonym for American materialism, bad manners, greed ... parochialism, arrogance, promiscuity, antifeminism, exposed roots and navels, entitlement, cell-phone addiction, anorexia and bulimia, predilection for gas-guzzling private transportation, pornified womanhood, exhibitionism, [and] narcissism." Hymowitz argued that while she "may be a composite of contemporary American sins," the act of hating Hilton is "a sign of lingering cultural sanity."

Labels: britney spears, lindsay lohan, paris hilton, tine fey

Full story:

Thirteen-year-old twins Lamb and Lynx Gaede have one album out, another on the way, a music video, and lots of fans. They may remind you of another famous pair of singers, the Olsen Twins, and the girls say they like that. But unlike the Olsens, who built a media empire on their fun-loving, squeaky-clean image, Lamb and Lynx are cultivating a much darker personna. They are white nationalists and use their talents to preach a message of hate. Known as "Prussian Blue" — a nod to their German heritage and bright blue eyes — the girls from Bakersfield, Calif., have been performing songs about white nationalism before all-white crowds since they were nine.

I can only hope someone shoves some sense into these kids.

I was all hyped up! I hadn't seen DJ Sasha since he played The Church in Denver, CO, and he was coming to MIAMI. That's only a 6 hour drive, totally worth it, right? I talked my boyfriend into taking me. Mistake number one. Told him how awesome Sasha was live, and how much fun concerts were, and how it would make a great early birthday present to me.

The web site and the tickets said 10pm. Translation = midnight. Mistake number two. I was curious to see the opening DJ, so we got there sometime after 10 and hung out. They messed with the lights, adjusted the volume so loud that I could feel it in my chest (usually my reason for going clubbing, why go if you can't feel it). I had a few drinks figuring I'd sober up by the time 2am rolled around and be totally fine to drive home.

By midnight I'm feeling good. I've had a few, the crowd has filled out the club nicely, and people are excited. I'm dancing, and then sitting (because my new shoes were KILLING ME) and then dancing some more. Mistake number three. Why do I have to wear cute shoes to a concert or club when I'd much rather wear sneakers and be comfy?

1am and still no Sasha. I'm thinking though, he's going to show up at any time, right? 2am and still no Sasha? Is he sick? Battling Montezuma's Revenge? Miss a flight? Too high to DJ?

Mind you, at this point I've had a drink spilled down my back by some ditzy bitch who can't dance and drink at the same time. I've narrowly avoided getting second degree burns from people dancing and smoking at the same time. I've had a beer bottle or two dropped on my new 5 dollar shoes (which is fine, they were totally disposable club wear). Oh, and some pole-dancing fool, who was totally fucked up on drugs, was making one lucky pole his bitch while bumping into me occasionally and actually running into my boyfriend.

Almost 3am and they start playing some screen logo saying SASHA on all the monitors around the club. Some bald guy is up with the other DJ and I'm assuming he's just another tech or roadie. There've been upwards of 5 guys up in the DJ booth at one point or another. Anyways, this guy looked nothing like the Sasha I saw in 2003.

Finally, my boyfriend decides this must be Sasha, but he's not playing anything I'm used to hearing from him, and I have just about all his CDs. I'm used to his more ambient trancey stuff, and this was all hardcore bass beats crap. Around 4:30am I've had enough. My contacts are ready to pop out of my eyes, I feel like I've smoked a pack of cigarettes, and my nice new outfit is soaked in alcohol. In the car my boyfriend turns to me and says, "I want to say this, but I don't want to say it."

I, thinking he's going to say something to the effect of he was right, blah blah blah, DJs really do suck when they get old, etc., reply, "I know, you're right."

"Oh no, that's not what I meant. I just think I'm getting too damn old for this shit." Well damn, so am I.