Babies R Everywhere

I've always been sort of a late bloomer. This on top of being the youngest added sort of a stunted childhood and early adulthood. In fact of the ones that went, my siblings finished college before I finished high school. Eventually it became easy to swallow that they, with their five or more year head start on life, would be difficult to compete with so I tried to catch up by being the "good" kid. They would never say it out loud, but I'm my parent's favorite. (If you take into consideration how much grief I gave them on average, I think I win.) But when the rest had grown out of the angst ridden teenage years and started to bring the babies to visit, I knew I no perfect report cards could compare. Ask my oldest niece (or more appropriately, anyone else around with a decent memory) and you'll find out that I wasn't particularly nice to her. I hated not being the youngest and cutest. (Confession: I don't think I was never the cutest, but still.) I told my mom that she's have to wait about thirteen years, then we'd have something in common. 

Strangely it took about ten and after years of therapy I discovered that in addition to losing attention, I didn't like that she brought back the yelling version of discipline in our house. When you're the good kid, you just internalize your dissatisfaction and do what it takes to make your parents proud of you. The older ones didn't and I was having flashbacks of that horrible look from my parents that someone was in trouble. Now that I've shared a brief history of what seems like irrelevant information, allow me to continue.

Little children running around made sense with my by many years older siblings. But now I'm at the age where little ones running around by my peers is the norm. Five years earlier, I would cast it off as whatever, I have college to finish. Then college was over and my friends ventured off into a new world. When one of my greatest friends got married, came back from her honeymoon and told me she was pregnant, that was a happy moment filled with a huge slap upside my head of discovery. It isn't just the, for lack of nicer way of putting it, skanks from high school getting knocked up. This is my wonderful girlfriend adding a new generation of nerds to the world. She wanted kids and after finishing school, getting married and building a home, went for it. 

I still had some goals to get to her level of readiness, so that was just happy times for her adventure. I got to meet her son, saw him get baptized and it was so great to see the first of my adult friends take this step. Then she called me up and told me she was pregnant again. I heard the news and was incredibly excited for her. This was amazing. She told me the details and I was mesmerized by what she was doing. Again, she was pinpointing what she wanted and was making it her reality.

When I got off the phone, I started to cry. And what made it worse is that I could see it played out in an episode of Friends. (Let's go to the clip. Ignore the pettiness of "Thunder" and being the center of attention and you have my life at that moment. But she was having her second child and I was still not married yet. Also, I would never ruin another person's special night. It has come up before recently, but for crap's sake, I'm not seventeen anymore.)

This was about two years ago. Since then I've married my long time boyfriend and bought a home and I still have days where I feel empty. I've been lucky that I haven't been hounded by family as to when I'm having kids. My parents already have five grand kids and my mother-in-law said she's in no hurry. (Whether or not that's true has yet to be seen.) I'm not ready and honestly, I don't know if I am capable of dealing with the pain. There. I said it.

Well, this would be easy to deal with, but my best friend is pregnant. I always assumed she's have kids before me. She's more nurturing and likes kids more than I do. (I know I like kids that I have a connection to. Family and friends have great kids most of the time. Other kids need to stay away from me.) I'm helping her other best friend throw a baby shower for her and I'm excited and happy for her. But again, the lingering sadness for me is not far behind.

It's natural that when we get together, the conversation would be about pregnancy and little ones. I'm not part of this club, so I have little to contribute. I need to find others who are childless, quick. Then I started down the list of good childless friends. They will understand my life, right? 

Door Number One: Married seven years no kids yet.

"No, I want kids, but I'm waiting until my husband figures out a few career choices. I can't wait to have kids."

Door Number Two: Together twelve years getting married in June.

"Oh yeah, once we're married, we'll have kids really soon."

Door Number Three: Married three years & pursuing Master's Degree

"Yeah, we'll probably get started after I finish up this degree."

That's it. And Facebook is cursing me with the ones that aren't married and happily announcing the news of their bundles of joy. I was in Babies R Us yesterday and nearly had a  panic attack. My brain went into dark places and started to curse the white trash looking people who weren't smart enough to find the giant sign that said "Registry" who will soon be having little morons running around.

Calm Happy Place. And who would have though a self described "Entertainment Junkie" would have a movie moment from When Harry Met Sally that can help describe this pain?

Sally: And Joe and I used to talk about it, and we'd say we were so lucky we have this wonderful relationship, we can have sex on the kitchen floor and not worry about the kids walking in. We can fly off to Rome on a moment's notice. And then one day I was taking Alice's little girl for the afternoon because I'd promised to take her to the circus, and we were in the cab playing "I Spy" - I spy a mailbox, I spy a lamp-post - and she looked out the window and she saw this man and this woman with these two little kids. And the man had one of the little kids on his shoulders, and she said, "I spy a family." And I started to cry. You know, I just started crying. And I went home, and I said, "The thing is, Joe, we never do fly off to Rome on a moment's notice."
Harry: And the kitchen floor?
Sally: [sadly] Not once. It's this very cold, hard Mexican ceramic tile.

It isn't that I want kids now. It isn't our time. Sadly, biology is designed that my time is running out. But I'm not sad because I want kids. In my moments of pettiness, I want to be living this fly off to Rome, sex on the kitchen floor life. And don't even drink so can't abuse my body like there isn't a life inside depending on it. No, this sadness is familiar to the one I had watching my siblings getting degrees while I still had to pass third year Spanish. It's compounded by the fact that those around me didn't have a five year head start. I'm being left behind and I hate it.

Now that I'm coming up on my ten year high school reunion, I don't even get the pleasure of seeing how the nasty bitches of my youth have gain fifty pounds and are miserable with their place in life. I can just look in the mirror for that. I guess I can make some Romy and Michelle happy to tell me "They don't give a flying fuck what I think." Man, I shouldn't have to pay sixty bucks for that. Fortunately, I'll have back up with my wonderful mother of two friend. And I know I won't be excited/devastated by the news of a third pregnancy. She says two is enough. Whew.

Swans and Dancers and Lesbians, oh my!

It is very rare that I save a movie and don't blow the whole story by reading the whole thing on the internet. I decided that Black Swan, a psychological thriller with a geeod pedigree of people attached was worth seeing on my own. I knew enough to tell my very Catholic mother to not see it, but I went in as clean as one can just seeing the trailers and knowing it won awards.

So in putting in this effort, here is my offical anylsis: Why does Natalie Portman win an Oscar and Elizabeth Berkeley gets to start her career from scratch? Is it because it's artistic and plays with your mind? Or is it ballet is much classier? Let me point this much out. The mind games that the hallucinations create in Black Swan are about on par with the mind games the terrible acting and story does in Showgirls. Lesbian sex and a not so great payoff make these movies about even on my mind. Okay to be fair, I have not seen Showgirls in its entirety because I thought that perhaps that wasn't worth my time. However, I got fooled by Black Swan's accolades. Shame on you movie critics. I trusted you and you betrayed me. And if I wanted to watch a creepy masturbation scene, I have Mullholand Drive, thank you very much.

One of these movie is not like the other. But pretty close.  

(And just a note to the LGBT community, I know there are no lesbians in this movie so much as sexually confused ladies that just go for whatever is striking their fancy, but much like these movies, I'm using "lesbian" as a buzzword to get the male attention. Did it work?)

Trying to Winning

A few days ago I was reading the headlines of the reviews of Charlie Sheen's one man show and was not even a little bit shocked that they were very bad. I'm slowly moving away from my caring about this whole thing, but I'm trying to imagine the type of people who would buy tickets to this show. I'm guessing the archetype of frat boy (and I say archetype because I've lived with and am related to some wonderful frat boys who know better than to waste their money on this crap). Does anyone think beyond trashing others and saying his catchphrase of sorts that this would be any good?

Many people can individually craft all aspects of a good piece of entertainment, but I get the feeling Charlie Sheen didn't anticipate that it takes some serious thought and creativity to punch out a quality show. Or at least some work. The fact that he says he need to retool shows me he does have some sanity left, because if he was running on pure egotism, he would just say "screw the haters, I'm awesome". Instead he's at least saying, if I'm going to avoid being a flash in the pan, I need to get better. I know fifteen minutes of fame lasts a lot longer than it used to, but I think he knows that Goddesses don't come free. (Personally, I think he's not a fifteen minutes of fame type. Tiger's blood has fifteen minutes. Charlie Sheen needs to have a Robert Downey, Jr. brand of reinvention. Someone get him to a Burger King.)

Good luck to you. I'm glad you're out of the well paying TV crap hole of Two and a Half Men, but don't milk Major League. Find yourself a new area to be funny. We know you're capable. Just do it.

Media Heartburn

Okay, I got married. That resulted in one week away from work. One week of podcasts that accumulated. That shouldn't be so bad. Just off the top of my head, a week of Adam Carolla, maybe two of Fitzdog and Nerdist, a This American Life, Doug Loves Movies, Parent Xperiment, Savage Love, and The Film Vault. So two months later, I'm looking at almost fifty things to listen to. And this stuff is averaging over an hour a piece. How can I complain about so much free content? To be honest, it isn't exactly complaining, but now it's like TV and movies and books and magazines. A stack is waiting for me and I must consume it all.

There is so much at my disposal and so much is quality entertainment. I need to jump on it because it's time sensitive, but of course now I'm using this opportunity to start a book club. Calm down, it's just a basic way of telling my self, you will start reading. But should I have this problem of what should be fun is now a task in order to better myself? You will relax and enjoy yourself, damn it!

So what is the proper way to consume entertainment? This junkie has been on a diet for so long since I cut out cable, but I'm still caught up on my favorite TV shows. Granted, I hear about so many cable shows that I'm missing, I just have to tune it out. I'm loving the summer since it's a chance to get some movies I missed in the theater (Actually, it's all about the pause button. That keeps me out of the theater). Magazine subscriptions have expired (except Entertainment Weekly, of course) so no accumulation here. I keep telling myself if I just had the time, I could so a great sweep and get everything done in a weekend. Sadly, I say that about cleaning the house and you don't want to see the dog hair that's stuck to the couch. 

I'll figure it out. I'll find a balance of enjoying my stuff and spring cleaning. While I just have a tiny 4G Nano, I suppose I can go against my better judgment, fill it with podcasts and listen while I clean the upstairs. I know, using my iPod to listen to podcasts? (I fill mine with music and listen to podcasts on my work computer.) I think I can make this crazy idea work. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to listen to This Week with Larry Miller. Or in my case, Two Months Ago With Larry Miller.

Poor James Marsden

No not the guy who played the best friend on half of the TGIF line up. And don't mix him up for the guy that looks like that guy that was in Serial Mom. And don't mix the second guy up with this other guy from Fanboys.

Okay, for those keeping score, I don't pity Jason Marsden whom I had a crush on when he played Rich on Step by Step or a character with the name "Jason Marsden" on Boy Meets World. And he is not to be confused with Justin Whalin. I just found out these two both played the same character in General Hospital, so it's not just me. On IMDB, they both have on their respective pages "Known for..." and there is a picture of just James Franco. (Makes sense considering he no longer sleeps and is involved with every other thing in Hollywood.) And to clear up everything else, Justin Whalin played Jimmy Olsen in Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman on TV as opposed to Sam Huntington (from Fanboys) who played the same character in Superman Returns with the object of my pity...James Marsden.

Extra points if you can identify each one. (Hint: Not one is Will Wheaton.)

In fact, Superman Returns is an example of my point, but I should back up a few steps. I get random cravings for a mushy, predictable romantic movie. I watched Enchanted and 27 Dresses back to back to eliminate it last time. I didn't plan it that way but it was a James Marsden-a-thon. With Valentine's Day coming up, I'm considering watching The Notebook. Unlike every other woman from ages seventeen to sixty-three who saw this on a loop when it came out six years ago, I decided this was a good movie to put in the vault for an occasion that I think my boyfriend* deserved to be jumped on immediately following the credits. (* Note: When the decision was made, he was my boyfriend. He has since been promoted to husband.)

Since I have zero patience, I still went online to see what the big deal was. Once again, James Marsden doesn't have a chance. I'm not entirely sure, because I don't know his character, but I'm sensing a theme. He's the nice guy that doesn't get the girl. Apparently he can't compete with Ryan Gosling. Or Patrick Dempsy. Or Hugh Jackman. Not even Brandon Routh.

Yes, this is an oversimplification based on a few movies, but it made me sad for the guy. You have to watch Gossip to get that sad taste out of your mouth. Or, for the nicer people, watch (Spoiler alert for anyone who hasn't watched the trailer!) 27 Dresses. He apparently can kick Ed Burns's ass romantically.

We shouldn't worry for him though. He's my generation's Bill Pullman and he landed on his feet, right? What? Ohhhh...... Okay. I'm going to go watch Independence Day. He gets the girl then, right? Wait, never mind. Spaceballs it is.

Umm... Awesome

Death Star Laser Operator for me. Makes sense, but d'oh.


Via: Online Schools

Generational Ewww

A little while ago I was having dinner at my parent's house. My siblings and nieces joined us for a nice dinner and conversation. I don't remember how it the topic came up but all of a sudden, my sister and fourteen year old niece were talking about Jared Leto. My niece loves him from 30 Seconds to Mars and has a teen girl crush on him. Well, my sister also had a crush on him back when he was know as Jordan Catalano fifteen years ago. Is that a gross moment? I've known generations of women to have crushes on the same actor at the same time, but this one is a little weird and creepy. Besides, look at the transition the man has made. My sister had the crush on the Tiger Beat version and my niece has crush on the goth version.

Classic bad boy?

Or Goth bad boy?

 

 

 

Also, my sister at roughly sixteen with a crush on a twenty-four year old playing a seventeen year old is passable. My niece crushing on the almost forty year old officially puts this in eww category. I remember my sister also having a crush on Tom Cruise and Brad Pitt back then as well, but I think that became mandatory in the mid 1990's.

But whatever Leto you choose, it's not the best guy to bring home to dad. And he's unattainable to I'm so glad I never have to experience that uncomfortable family dinner.