I opted for The Mindy Project and ice cream to yoga tonight. I regret nothing. Also, I forgot to secure the top to my water bottle before I put it in my purse and essentially drowned my copy of Neuromancer that I was valiantly trying to tackle yet again.
I could continue with my list of failures (I probably need to wash my hair) or I could remind myself of this video I watched over the weekend.
The lil sis and I watched Skeleton Twins tonight. I was looking forward to it as I wasn’t able to get tickets when it premiered at Sundance. It exceeded my already high expectations. Bill Hader and Kristen Wiig are Maggie and Milo Dean, siblings that haven’t seen each other in 10 years.
I love these quiet stories. They remind me how often life possesses a certain knack for not being what it’s supposed to be, what a disappointment it can feel like. And with all of that, how precious the connections we have with those people that make life a little less hard, less lonely. An unfailing partner for your lip sync cover band. Skeleton Twins balances the dark and the light themes so well.
The movie was wonderful, but it made me sad and contemplative. I went home and the lil sis nudged me out of my stupor with crispy bacon and a bowl full of carbs.
Is it weird that I immediately attributed it to losing Cristina Yang on Grey’s Anatomy? Yesterday’s show was the first Cristina-less episode and there was a palpable lack in tone. I’m basically as adrift as Mer is at the end of the episode when she goes for the tequila. As for the other Shondaland shows, I weeped when Abby and Olivia held hands and will wait to comment on How to Get Away With Murder once I figure out what the crap is going on.
Can I just say how squee-fully excited I am about Gilmore Girls coming to Netflix October 1st? Vulture is doing a bunch of posts before this date including: Which Gilmore Girls Boyfriend Was The Best? and The Gilmore Girls Superfan Quiz.
First to the quiz, I’m embarrassed I scored a ‘Luke’. Dang, Vulture. Your Superfan Quizzes do not mess around.
As to the second, thanks to Margaret Lyons I will now be using the term “tough tacos” every chance I get. Reading the Gilmore roundtable made me miss my old roommate as we had similar discussions on this very subject. At the time I was totally Team Jess.
All of my TV boyfriends are OPJs to some degree. I blame this on Joshua Jackson or Pacey Witter aka my first TV boyfriend. The boy quickest to quip. The best banterer. The passionate intellectual. The consummate reader. The sweet gestures that peek through a troubled parentage. It’s like they see me coming.
I admit to major Pacey-Joey-Dawson fatigue, even though Pacey BOUGHT HER A WALL. I much preferred the Andie/Pacey ship where even though they would be relegated to highschool, they brought out the best in each other.
Then, in no particular order, we have Ephram Brown from Everwood, Damon Salvatore from Vampire Diaries, Zane Donovan from Eureka, Peter Bishop from Fringe (Pacey, again!) and Chuck Bass from Gossip Girl. And finally, the original OPJ himself, Logan Echolls, who had me at ‘anthropomorphic’.
For the record, he was Aiden boring, but I would choose Max Medina as the best Gilmore boyfriend. Tough tacos, Luke. I will never forgive you for April (or you Amy Sherman-Palladino).
Steven Moffat is like the Doctor. He takes you away from your otherwise dull reality and transports you into something that’s magic. It’s maddening too. Occasionally, erratic. He is cleverer than you, but he lies. You trust in his goodness though. You trust that by choosing you for this adventure, he sees the brilliance in you that you only hope is there. Somewhere.
The trick is that watching Doctor Who can feel like magic and other times you’re reminded that it’s just a television show. No madman exists in a blue box. A curtain pulls back and all you see are blundering plots or a weak tag line disguised as a story.
Last week’s “Listen” revolved around the Doctor and Clara exploring the monster underneath the bed. It turned into an examination of fear. Clara says fear is a companion to us all. Being afraid isolates us. And yet sometimes it reminds us to listen to a kind and familiar voice telling us we are afraid, but we are not lost. We can be strong. We can face the monsters or the darkness. We can be brilliant and clever and more like those people we always thought we could be.
I have always been a habitual worrier. List making and obsessive preparedness helps. Exercise too, when I find the motivation. Hobbies, sometimes. Good chats with friends and check ins with the husband. An engrossing book/tv show/movie offers escape. All attractive outlets, but this past week I’ve found that for times when I need a few minutes to keep my brain from panicking, I’ve been deferring exclusively to the solo dance party. The following tunes have been much needed mood lifters:
Janelle Monae ft Erykah Badu “QUEEN”
Sam Smith “Money on My Mind”
T. Swift “Shake it Off”
Lucy Pearl “Dance Tonight”
From Left to Right: Robyn “Fembot” || Janelle Monae ft Erykah Badu “Q.U.E.E.N.” || Sam Smith “Money On My Mind” || Taylor Swift “Shake It Off” || Lucy Pearl “Dance Tonight” || Sia “Chandelier”
My 30th birthday came and went without much fanfare. I was secretly hoping for a kind of magic Wishing Dust scenario a la 13 Going on 30. I would open my eyes and see what a dreamy life I had as a successful career woman complete with Pat Benatar sleepovers. Instead I was met with my boring, quiet, and mostly wonderful life. 30 means my window for ingenue is closed now. It means I’m not “in my 20s” anymore, whatever that meant. It means I am Danny Tanner’s age from the pilot of Full House. It means I am often wondering what age Anne Welles was in Valley of the Dolls after she realizes she’s wearing makeup for reasons beyond her vocational obligations to Gillian Cosmetics.
It means other things too, exciting things. 30 meant homeowner when I was younger which I checked off this year. It means having a good start on my finances, clearing away my debt, and focusing on true financial independence. It means not being too set in my ways to try new things, but allowing me to linger on the things I treasure. It means I’m not afraid anymore to be a mother. If it happens.
I will always be the occasional neurotic, introspective, dreaming pragmatist, but I hope the coming years will see me happy and improving little by little.