Celebrity Endorsement

How I Came to (Finally) Watch Star Wars and Why I Might Be a Little Annoying Sometimes

I have some gentlemen in my life who were dismayed to discover that I had never actually seen any of the original Star Wars movies.

(Did you know that Star Wars is very important to males born in the 1970s? It is, apparently.)

Clearly, our friendship could not continue until I had been thoroughly exposed to the series. And so, for a few weekends, I was forced invited to watch the movies with them. And I just had to put together a fine spread complete with Darth Vader cookies and Han-burgers with Yoda cheese. (Hello? Center for the Most Adorable Person of the Year Award? I'd like to make a nomination.)

Okay, but can I say one thing? It's rather difficult to watch a movie for the first time with someone who really, really loves that movie, did you know that? They'll be watching you the whole time to make sure you are engaged and understanding what's going on and then, during their favorite parts, they'll watch you ever so much more closely to make sure you are having the correct response and if, heaven forbid, you do not have the appropriate response, well they're just going to have to pause the movie and explain why that part is funny/sad/scary/important, and hey, as long as you're paused, you'd better rewind it and watch it again oh and then you'll watch it a third time so they can tell you what is different in the remake and why that is stupid and how the original is so much better and did you know there is a deleted scene here and we'd better watch that too and do you really get what's going on?


It's a lot of pressure for a girl, is all I'm saying.

Oh, and also they will not appreciate your suggestion that Yoda is man-crushing hard on Luke, I've found.


And this got me thinking about the movies that might be hard for other people to watch with me, which led to:

Movies You Should Never, Ever Watch With Kim If You Want to Maintain Your Sanity

1. While You Were Sleeping, Benny & Joon, The Last of the Mohicans, The Princess Bride or any other movie I can (and do) quote word-for-word, line-by-line, using different voices for each character.

2. Back to the Future, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Bedknobs and Broomsticks, Big, Short Circuit or any movie that was really important to me when I was growing up. And that I can quote word-for-word, line-by-line, using different voices for each character.

3. The Core, Deep Impact, The Day After Tomorrow or any other factually-inaccurate science fiction movie, unless you want me pausing every 15 minutes to tell you exactly why that wouldn't happen in real life.

4. Newsies, The Sound of Music, Fiddler on the Roof, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang or any other musical with songs that I know all the words to and will probably sing along with, loudly and off-key.



And the mystery of why I am perpetually single has just been solved. (frowny face)

Things that make my life awesome, part 2

Do you know what everybody needs? Everybody needs someone who will dress up and climb into a photo booth and take silly pictures with them, that's what!

P.S. Which is your favorite? I can't stop giggling enough to pick!

You know what?

This world needs a return policy on iTunes purchases.

Because sometimes people make bad decisions in the iTunes store. Especially if they happen to be impulse buyers.

That's just what I've heard.

I don't really know what recycling is, but I do know what bicycling is.

I love to compost.

I don't actually have a home garden, though, so composting doesn't make a whole lotta sense for me. (But seriously, when I throw vegetable peelings and egg shells into the trash my soul is wracked with eternal torment.)

So I collect all my kitchen scraps in a bowl and then take it over to the neighbor's house in the middle of the night and dump it into their compost pile.


I have permission from the neighbors to do so.


So I could probably just bring it over during the day.


But I like to do it late at night.


Because I like being sneaky.


And sometimes I make my roommate Gretchen come with me.


Because I am a little bit afraid of the dark.



And monsters.





The end.

My apple has cancer.

Do you see it? 

I'm afraid to eat it.

It's slightly alarming how much I identify with certain John Cusack characters.

"We were frightened of being left alone for the rest of our lives. Only people of a certain disposition are frightened of being alone for the rest of their lives at the age of 26, and we were of that disposition."




Me too, Rob Gordon. Me too.




P.S. This is the song that has been stuck in my head for about a week and the reason I can't sleep right now. 

In other news, I have had plenty of caffeine today.

But HAPPY MONDAY, everyone! And how are you? And wasn't the weekend wonderful?

Did any of you watch Conference? Me too. There is now a permanent cavity in my couch in the exact shape of my tushie from sitting through all 8 hours (plus a little HGTV between sessions to cleanse the palate).

Wouldn't it be lovely if we had GC weekends more often? It's so full of wonderful things. 

Cinnamon rolls!

Spiritual edification!

Spiral notebooks!

PAJAMAS!

But also? I look simply dreadful today. When my alarm sounded this morning, I said "No thank you!" and spent the next 37 minutes of my life cuddling up to my pillows and watching reruns of The Office. Can you even get over that? So I rushed through my morning routine and many steps of my makeup procedure fell by the wayside. I am even relying on last night's eyeliner. Surely this is not the proper respect to give a Monday!

I am debating in my little head whether I should take a long lunch and hop over to the mall wherein you will find a Victoria's Secret, wherein you will find a makeup bar, and with which you can create beauty. (Please tell me I'm not the only one who takes full advantage of the VS makeup bar. Any other white trash ladies out there? Represent!)

But of course it is a drizzly, drippy day and my hair, which did not get its usual dosage of Anti-Frizz Smoothing Serum this morning, might stage a full-scale revolt under these conditions if I venture outside without my dear pink-and-purple-stripey umbrelly which is safe and warm and dry in the car.

So it is a fight over hair or face. Hair? Or face? Who can choose? I understand this sounds satirical but it is with full sincerity that I sit and ponder here.

And what a blessed life I live that this is the dilemma of the day?

Also, tell me, what is the best thing about your Monday? 

This is the story about how I am emotionally volatile and also I didn't get to punch anyone today.

"I don't know what is going on with my mood swings lately, " I told Gretchen last night. "I feel like I'm on the brink of a complete emotional breakdown and yet I have this overwhelming desire to punch someone really hard right in the face."

"That . . . is . . . awesome," she announced, while staying on the other side of the room lest I actually do begin punching things/people. This conversation took place just after I sobbed my way through this week's Project Runway. I don't know why. I don't even like that show.

(Yes I do.)



ANYWAY . . .  Today has been beautiful. I'm in my office all morning, happy as a lark. Just to give you an idea of what my mood has been like, I'll tell you that around eleven I was standing on my office chair belting out Kenny Rogers like there's no tomorrow. That is what is called Being Professional.

(I was trying to get something off the top of my cabinets. It's not like I just climb up on my chair in the middle of my office and sing for no reason.)


(Yes I do.)


ANYWAY . . .  So we're gliding through the day just fine until someone informs me that one of our vendors, the one who has been giving me nothing but grief for six solid months, has dropped the ball yet again on something that I have talked to them about like nine million times. </exaggeration>

BLIND, SEETHING, OUT-OF-NOWHERE RAGE.


"Oh, don't you worry," I told my dear, slowly-backing-away-from-the-crazy-person coworker. "I'll call them right now and get this fixed." And then I laughed an evil, maniacal laugh. Oh, I was so happy. I was going to call the guy and tear. him. apart. He was going to tremble in his chair. He was going to regret the day he ever crossed me. I didn't even care if the problem was fixed. I just wanted to yell at someone. And I wanted to make him cry.

(I am an amazingly pleasant person. Look up "nicest person ever" on Wikipedia and you'll see a big picture of me. Caption: Sings Kenny Rogers and likes to cause permanent emotional damage to others.)

I hopped on the phone with the guy and laid out exactly what was wrong. I paused (for dramatic effect) and took a deep breath, readying myself for the wailing I was about to deliver.

But before I could start, he jumps in with, "Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry! This is so awful! You must be so frustrated! You have been so patient with us over the past few months and I can't believe this happened! I am so going to take care of this right now!"

And, deflated, I mumbled, "that will be fine," and "thank you," and "that sounds good, sir."

Before we got off the phone he asked if there was anything else he could help me with and so I asked if perhaps next time he wouldn't be so polite and helpful. 

"Um, what?" he asked.

"Well, you were just really nice and it was annoying because I really just wanted to yell at someone but I can't yell at someone who's being so helpful."

"Oh. Well, you can yell at me now if you'd like," he offered.

"No, it's okay," I said. "Just maybe remember it for next time."

"I will make a note of it on your account right now."

"Thanks."




The end.