Time is Catching Up

My closest friend of almost twenty-four years got engaged tonight. I found out initially from my sister, who saw it on Facebook, while I was watching Fifty Shades Darker with my other sister.

I felt overwhelming joy and sadness, knowing more than anything I will never go to her wedding. What is weird is that I have been feeling as though this was coming—her dad said something at Christmastime about her being in Tennessee for the following Christmas, which is where her fiancé is from, and there was just this sense that she would be engaged soon. That, and I have been having these thoughts that she’d become engaged, invite me to the event (not that I expect that will happen), and I wouldn’t have a way to attend.

I don’t expect to be invited. This reality hurts, but I haven’t seen her in over eleven years, and we aren’t as close as we used to be. For some people, it might even sound ridiculous that I consider her a close friend when I say things like that. Even if I were invited, I have zero money. To get to San Diego would cost a bit, and how would I get to the place where it was being held (that’s even if she got married in San Diego). My grandma would let me stay at her house, so I wouldn’t have to worry about that aspect.

I just feel melancholy and nostalgic. She’s going to get married, and I can remember when we were teenaged dorks imagining marrying specific members of *NSYNC. I’m melancholy because we’ve drifted apart, and I wish I could see her get married before she moves far away. I think her being an eight hour drive away is far, Tennessee is clear across the country.

Sorry if I am babbling.

In other nostalgic news, yesterday January 9th marked the nineteenth anniversary of my first concert. I saw *NSYNC as a gawky fifteen-year-old. I also just realized that I went around yesterday thinking it was the eighteenth, when it was in 1999. I feel so frigging old right now. I met my friend when I was 10 1/2 (back when the half counted), and my concert five years later, which will have happened twenty years ago next year.

Wow … Just wow.

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Titanic is Twenty

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There have been a lot of movies that I have had affect my life whose twentieth anniversaries have come and gone (Clueless is one example), but Titanic was a huge one. When I was fourteen, this movie stood out to me for reasons that are lost to me now. At the time, I was an ostracized new kid at a school where maybe seven people ignored the rampant rumors swirling about me, and took the time to discover they were highly untrue. Maybe I associated with Rose’s plight of feeling that she is “standing in the middle of a crowded room, screaming at the top of her lungs, and no one even looks up.”

When I first went and saw the movie, I was supposed to be going with this guy James (real name) for a date. I didn’t like James. James was the polar opposite of anyone I have ever been interested in, but I was going to go on this date for some reason. Luckily, my inner voice told me I was being stupid, and I broke it off. I ended up going with my twelve-year-old sister and her friend, presumably because I was the ticket inside based off of my age. That, and how I was intrigued to see the movie because of Kate Winslet’s nose in the iconic poster (I have a thing for noses–mainly those of men, but Kate got a pass).

I was immediately captivated. Leonardo DiCaprio was a handsome man, Kate Winslet as Rose was the person I wanted to be (and try I did, much to my horror twenty years later, and also confusing the few males in my classes that I used Rose’s lines on when they tested me), and the story of the sinking broke my heart. I ended up seeing the movie three times, and cried every time Jack died.

Like many fourteen-year-old girls were doing, I ate up merchandise. I had the knock-off necklace (although the stone was much smaller), I bought all the soundtracks (which led to me blacklisting Celine Dion for years, because she was all over the radio, and her voice made me simply murderous–I still can’t listen to “My Heart Will Go On”), had the poster, and all that other stuff. If magazines spoke about the movie, I bought them. My allowance lined James Cameron’s pockets.

And now, it is twenty years later. I have been unable to watch the movie in its entirety for years, and even when I try, I turn it off. I can sit through numerous Holocaust films that cut me to the bones emotionally, but I can’t sit through Titanic. The only things from the movie obsession I have is a clipping from People magazine of Leo and Kate as their characters standing on the interior ceiling of the ship (a pun of sorts, I suppose) and I think the Return to the Titanic soundtrack. I can still quote that movie in my sleep, and remember emotions I had in regard to particular scenes. I can still remember how I confused the boys in my Math class when I called them ‘rude and uncouth’, and internally screaming at myself to stop being an idiot, because I wasn’t helping dispel the rumors going around about me (although those rumors had nothing to do with my behavior).

Needless to say, Titanic has had an impact. It furthered my love for history, corseted ladies, and gentlemen. Mainly, I helped Leonardo DiCaprio take minor roles in independent films for a few years because of the pandemonium of Titanic (sorry, Leo!). I also get a joy out of explaining to younger people that I sat around for three-and-a-half hours to download a minute-long clip of Leo and Kate in the Third Class dancing (dial-up was no joke).

Happy 20th, and thanks for making me feel like an old lady, Titanic!

A Message

Although I’ve said in the past I would refrain from getting political, tonight I have reached the breaking point. So, here’s my statement, and I will leave it there:

I sincerely hope that all you people who voted for Trump or those Republican bastards that are too weak to oppose him are cool with all your West Coast family and friends being annihilated by North Korea because Trump and Kim Jong-Un are playground toddler bullies trying to outdo each other. But instead of knocking a small few kids into the sand, we are having to deal with nuclear weapons. 

I don’t know about you, those random few  right-wing a-holes, but I’m not willing to die for a 71-year-old infant who, by an effed up voting system, has the power to pull this crap. 

Kiss my ass. 

An Update

Okay, so as I wrote months ago, I removed most of the posts about Aidan and Matt. What I did leave behind were posts discussing nothing too revealing, and the Drama Scene from which the tailspin that was me writing a (now) 96 page story about these two guys.

As I mentioned previously, I had planned to do this in the future so that I could some day submit the story for publishing. While that day is nowhere close to occurring, I wanted to be prepared. Speaking of the story, I am doing more editing, and just admiring passages that I have written. As those of you who have been with the blog since the story was born, this is my baby. I have written countless other stories, some which I love, but this one is my passion project. I walk away from it for weeks at a time, but I always come back.

Hopefully, I have removed all evidence of previously written parts. Feel free to check out the tags if you wish to read what I’ve left.

Happy Thanksgiving Week

For those of you who live in the United States, it is the week of one of our biggest holidays of the year. For others, like me, it is just another day that reminds us that we have family that we like to avoid.

I am not going to get into the nitty-gritty of why I hate Thanksgiving (check out the tags for that), but here it is again. Living in an apartment, this holiday signifies hell for the next month and some odd days. Until January 15, I will be forced to hear the music of the college student who lives downstairs, while her mom is at work for several hours, blissfully unaware of what she is doing.

In other news, I am submitting weekly excerpts of a story I wrote for my grandma’s birthday to Vocal, a site for all sorts of things. I just submitted the second part, albeit a few weeks’ later than I should have.

If you want to check out the story, just find the ‘Humans’ section, and look for Autumn and Winter Romance.

There isn’t much else going on with me. Maybe with the holidays coming, I will blog more.

My Cinematic Element

I haven’t done one of these in a long time, so I will reveal a quiz result from Buzzfeed on what my cinematic element would be.

You got: A high-contrast, whimsical period piece with dark themes

Think of standing in a dark hallway eavesdropping on someone, and holding a candle while it flickers over your face, casting creepy shadows on the wall. Think of white ballgowns, mint green rooms, ornate chairs, and devastating secrets whispered about over tea.

Does that not sound like something I would be into? I am strongly into Victorian/Edwardian-themed films where someone lurks in a corner with a candlestick, eavesdropping.

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Image is from Crimson Peak

Image was lovingly extracted from here.

More Old Photos!

These are likely to be the last of these posts, since my sister is coming home early, on Wednesday. I kind of wish I were there in person to see them all for myself, since she is only sending the ones she thinks are funny or of our grandparents and our mom.

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My grandma and my mom
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My grandpa and my mom
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Me and my younger sister on Halloween 1992. She was a kitty and I was a wizard.
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My youngest sisters in early 1996. My youngest sister looks like the Gerber baby.

Old Photos

My younger sister is down at our grandma’s, and she has three tubs full of photos. My sister has been sending them to us throughout the day, and they have been fun to look at. I am sharing a few, although not the ones of my youngest sister when she was a cherubic baby and the Gerber baby doppelganger.

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My youngest sisters and I, most likely in 2000. These photos remind me to not repeat fashion mistakes.
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My mom’s parents, 1955/1956 when my grandpa was stationed in France
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My maternal grandpa in either Vietnam or Korea. My bet’s more on Vietnam.
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My grampy and me (and my aunt). This photo is totally getting framed.

Apartment Review

Hey there, fellow readers! Long time, no see, right?

Things have been going well. I was really close to getting a job with the local library, being #6 out of the top five for the position. It sucks, and I am hoping to find something that doesn’t require me to get up at the crack of dawn or be working past 9 pm every day of the week.

My birthday was … okay, but wasn’t really all that eventful. I got some cool presents, and that is about it. I am getting a tattoo in less than three weeks, and I want to be autumn.

Okay, let’s proceed with the actual post that is named in the headline. As you may know, I wrote a review for Yelp in the event I actually moved out of my apartment in April, which didn’t happen. It also happens to be three pages long (and counting), which obviously is far too long to post anywhere but a blog. What you read below is something I have compiled over the last four years, and even then, I had omitted a lot of stuff to cut down the length for Yelp (although I will be adding in some things I wrote about the management company in the following review as well). For obvious reasons, I will not be naming the complex.

Continue reading “Apartment Review”

Random Post involving Alexander Skarsgard

I was on Tumblr (sometimes I feel as though I am the only thirty-something roaming that site, despite the fact I know otherwise), and I came across this post about Alexander Skarsgard that I found funny but related to.

For me, the first person I can really remember having a crush on in a movie was the Scarecrow in The Wizard of Oz. I couldn’t even tell you why, since I was five or six. I figure it was his spirit or the fact that he was just a no-nonsense type of person. Over the years, this adoration has also expanded to include the Tin Man, but there is a soft spot for Scarecrow. I wouldn’t go as far as Alexander to say that is why I am not married or in a relationship, because that is where this comparison ends.

For anyone new to this blog, there are a couple of posts floating around about my woman crush on the Wicked Witch of the West. I highly suggest you all check those out, in case you need further proof of how weird I am. I also skip through the movie to avoid the sugary ick of Dorothy (which I also explain in those other posts). Click on the tags to find those related posts.

Link belongs to askarsswedishmeatballs-Tumblr