Back in the Day

I was inspired by this post, courtesy of Emily and her AH-mazing blog (but seriously, you shouldn't look at it unless you're willing to be super-depressed that you aren't skinny and beautiful and have an awesome boyfriend and awesome clothes and live in LA and take awesome pictures), regarding favorite childhood movies. And, since we all know that I suck at coming up with original ideas, I'm stealing...ahem....borrowing hers.

Because who doesn't have great taste in movies when they're six?

1. The Little Mermaid. This is the first movie I remember seeing in the movie theater. My Dad surprised me one Saturday by taking me. And let me tell you, going to the movies with your dad in kindergarten sans siblings is a huge deal. Huge. We also got it on VHS at some point, and my brother, sister, and I would dance around the living room screaming the lyrics to "Under the Sea" at the top of our lungs during the appropriate scene in the movie. Also, it is worth mentioning that shortly after my initial viewing of the film, I tried to give myself bangs with Fiskar's safety scissors and color my hair with a red Sharpie underneath the neighbor's kitchen table because I "wanted to be pretty like Ariel," successfully making myself look like I belonged in special ed. Yeah. That happened.


2. Pete's Dragon. An orphan boy. His pet green dragon that only he can see. Cartoon animation mixed in with a cast of real people. The song "Candle on the Water." MICKEY ROONEY AS AN ALCOHOLIC UNCLE. What is not fabulous about this movie? Answer: absolutely nothing.


3. Newsies. Somehow, my Mom discovered this on VHS at the library, and it swiftly became a full-blown obsession in our house. The soundtrack played nonstop, and I'm fairly certain that Mommy came to regret her decision. We now own it on DVD, so I can enjoy dancing teenage boys anytime I want. Err....that came out wrong.


4. Return to Oz. Creepy? Um, yes. But also kind of awesome. As those who know me best will attest, anything Oz-related makes my mouth water. And, when you're the little girl who watched the first movie so much that the tape eventually wore out, the prospect of a sequel the depicts life for Dorothy after she clicks her heels together three times is pretty wonderful indeed.


5. The Great Mouse Detective. If Sherlock Holmes were a mouse, this movie would be about him. But he's not, so it isn't. It's better. Because Sherlock Holmes doesn't sing. And this mouse dude? Totally does.


6. The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe (BBC Edition). Another memorable public library find (thanks Mom). The Siblings and I watched this weekly, at the very least. Personally? I think this version trumps the newer one- less CGI, fewer special effects, and all the magic of the book.


7. Commando. So, not exactly a kids movie. I'm aware. But this Arnold classic makes the list for the simple fact that this was the very first rated-R movie my Dad rented for us. I think I was about seven. You'd better believe that my mom was piiiiiissed.

8. To Kill a Mockingbird. Also not a kids movie. But, here's why it's a fave: when we were little, my Uncle Tom and Aunt Beth lived in an old farmhouse in West Liberty, Iowa. West Liberty was a happening place: the birthplace of our 31st president Mr. Herbert Hoover, home of the West Liberty public pool where you get yelled at by the lifeguards if you swim in between the diving boards, and corn. Lots and lots of corn. Did you know that sometimes it rains in Iowa? Well it does. And when it rains and the place you're visiting happens to be filled only with activities that can be done outside (in the middle of a cornfield, no less), it becomes necessary for children to find other things to entertain themselves with. "To Kill a Mockinbird" was, for some reason, the only movie we ever watched while spending time there. I'm not really sure why, but I think we all got better grades in freshman English because of it.


9. An American Tail. More mice. More musicals. I'm noticing a theme here. Now that I think about it, this movie has a lot of death and violence in it, particularly for a cartoon full of dancing rodents. It also contains a lot of rather adult symbolism regarding immigrants and Ellis Island and prejudice. Which I suppose is valuable, as is evident by the fact that my brother has never studied for a single history test in his life and still managed to get consistently get A's in the subject. As for myself, I just watched the movie for the song "There Are Not Cats in America." You should check it out and share in my love for it.


10. The Wizard of Oz. You knew it was coming. Don't even try to deny it.


Oh, and just in case you're wondering why I happen to be posting on a Saturday night...it's definitely not because I chose to come home after school today and watch "Mulan" on the Disney Channel with my cat instead of going out. Definitely DEFINITELY not.

Beauty.

And, apparently, the talented person who took this picture?
Allowing the Average Joe's of the world to download and print.
FOR FREE.
Want in on this action?
Get some.

Dear John Krasinski

I am fairly certain that I can cook far better than Emily Blunt.
So, you should ditch her.
And marry me instead.
Just a thought.

Adorable photos from here via here

Yeah.

Oh. And one more thing....

Borrowed this lovely blog.
I know it's written in Portuguese.
But I don't care.
Her images are so lovely.
Also: I'm going to learn to speak Portuguese.
Didn't I tell you?

Humiliation in 60 Seconds or Less.

Erm...I came across this little gem in my TV travels tonight.

What? I was waiting for "Amazing Race" to TiVo!
Stop judging.

Anywho.

If you're not familiar, "Minute to Win It" features contestants that try to win $1,000,000 by performing inane tasks. For example: emptying an entire Kleenex (excuse me...tissue...) box with one hand, knocking a pyramid of six pop cans off a table by launching rubber-bands at them, and bouncing ping-pong balls into a fishbowl through a series of three paper plates.
All in sixty seconds or less, as the name implies.

There are ten levels, and the tasks get progressively harder as the levels increase. Contestants also get three "lives," just in case their water-bottle-tossing-skills aren't up to snuff and they happen to fail.

Um, what?

Since when is acting like a drunken frat boy trying to impress a bunch of Kappas considered talent?

I veto this.

I do love Guy Fieri, though.
He cracks me up.
And he's got bitchin' hair.

I Suck.

Officially.

I know I haven't posted in a billion years.
My grandmother is about ready to kill me (or deny me peanut-butter-oatmeal cookies for the rest of my life...I'm not sure which is worse, to be honest).

There's been a whole lot going on and I know that you're just DYING (all four of you) to hear all about it.

Here it goes:

As we all know, I got laid off. Which sucked.
Then I temped for a while. For the same company I got laid off from. Which also sucked.
And then our apartment tried to kill us with rats and black mold and stress. Big time suckage.

But you know what didn't suck?
I moved back in with my parents (which does not, I repeat DOES NOT suck).
In Chicago. Definitely the opposite of suck.
Finally, I'm going to school at the Aveda Institute Chicago in their esthiology program. Which means that I will be fully-licensed to be....drumroll....a professional makeup artists!
SOOOOOO DOES NOT SUCK.

*Also? I can wax. Legally. So, if you need a braziallian? I'm your gal.

And, the big gray cat is here too.

So, it would suffice to say that I am happy.
Life is good.
And you know what?
I'm going to share that goodness with the internets.
On a regular basis.

Because you know what?
You deserve it.
All four and a half of you.

Not to mention that it's good for me, too.

And that?
That doesn't suck.
Not even a little bit.

Every new begining comes from some other begining's end

Umm...did I just quote 90's alt-rock in my title?
Why yes, I believe I did.

Lately, I have been thinking about change; my life, I feel, is at a precipice. My whole world is about to do a back-flip and will undoubtedly result in something much different than what I have existed in for the past few years of my life.
Terrifying? Absolutely.
But would you believe me if I told you I was excited about it?
As a part of this turning point in my life which is both hypothetical and literal, I have found myself morphing into a person who literally craves change. I want new experiences, fresh perspectives, and unexplored feelings.
Does this possibly explain my shopping addiction? I think it may.

If we're being honest here, I think that despite my other proclivities this sentiment is particularly well-adjusted. There are people who live their lives in one perpetually stagnant point in history, and never progress. There are people who are afraid to know anything different, even though difference is an organic process and not something synthetic and foreign. We are meant to change, as human beings. And consequently, the world around us is meant to do the same.
There is something comforting and lovely about nostalgia, but there comes a point in everyone's life when their current state of being simply stops working- it no longer gives us what we require. That is the point at which I dwell right now. I am on the cusp of an "overhaul", of you will. I need a change. I need many changes. I need them to become the person I want to be, someone who lives to the fullest extent of their ability. The idea of change and progression within myself makes me feel healthier, more alive.

As one might have guessed, I was not always this cool.

When I was about 8 or 9, my parents decided that it was time to reupholster the dining room chairs. Which would probably not phase any normal child, nor would a normal child notice such a trivial and aesthetic change when there are more important things to be conquered like Barbie weddings and learning how to color inside the lines.
As you may not have guessed by now, I was not a normal child.
This suffices to say the particular change in discussion did not sit well with my 8 year-old self.

In fact, I had a complete and utter meltdown.

Apparently, aside from not being a normal child, I was also a child who did not cope well with change.

Exhibit A:
When my parents got a new microwave? Devastation.
When they got a new stove? Catastrophic.
When I came home from summer camp and there was not only a new couch in our living room but also a new cat sitting on said couch? Full-on nuclear annihilation.

So the new upholstery? May have been a bit of a problem for me to process.

In this situation, I proceeded to do what I did in every situation wherein my mother was too busy being a mom and didn't have time to by my psychiatrist: I hit #1 on my speed-dial and called my grandmother (what...you didn't have your own speed-dial when you were in elementary school? Loser). I then proceeded to dissolve into an 8 year-old-sized puddle of tears as I imparted the total audacity of my parents and the fact that they thought it was appropriate to bring NEW FABRIC into MY HOUSE.

So my grandmother in a fit of genius (or boredom...that's her main motivation for everything she does) recycled the old fabric from the dining room chairs and turned it into a doll for me- a doll with blond hair, a beautiful dress, and violet eyes. Yeah, she's pretty awesome. Not surprisingly, this quelled the storm.
And, because she's and equal-opportunity enabler, she made my brother and sister a turtle and a cat out of the same fabric.
Side note: I think it is of great relevance that you all know my sister named her cat "Special." Special was friends with Janie's pet goldfish, "Heavy." I couldn't even make this stuff up.

Although this little project was, in reality, probably just to shut me up, I like to think that she was trying to offer a lesson for the future.

Dwelling in the past feels safe and comfortable. We, as human beings, mentally relive moments in which we were the happiest, and try to re-create those circumstances in hopes of capturing those feelings once again. However, change is a natural progression and an important part of our evolution as human beings.
Change is good.
Change allows us to grow.
And, as long as we respect the lessons of our past experiences and preserve them so that they may be carried with us, we can use those instances as as points of advancement within ourselves.

My parents have since gone through three additional sets of dining room chairs, several new couches, and totally remodeled their kitchen.

And you know what? I'm totally fine with that.

But I still have my doll.