I wanted to find a good tbt blog post from my old livejournal. But most of them are just…incredibly embarrassing. I went back to April of 2004, because I thought that’d be cool, but man. I was so not cool. Everything is so angsty, and it’s all music or book references, and I basically cannot get through a post without berating myself for being “not pretty” or something. Yikes.
So, I skipped ahead to April of 2005, when things were really starting to look up. And I found this.
And I thought, Still embarrassing, but it’s young love, and I’ve always been cheesy, and at that point it’s not like my livejournal was something I censored or worried about other people reading, so okay. And then I clicked on the 5 comments and saw a comment from me saying, “I DID NOT WRITE THIS! That would be Drew.”
So, this week’s tbt blog post is brought to you by 2005 Drew…which is a lot like 2014 Drew but with fewer responsibilities and access to my online journal.
This is the first sleep talking post since last June!
(Honestly I think the reason why is that I don’t stay up so much later than Drew anymore…so I’m not bothering him and making him say weird things to me.)
But last night, I was finishing a book on my kindle, so this happened.
Me: I’m sorry?
Drew: Wedding…That’s the theme.
Drew: Of the wedding.
Me: Who picked that theme?
Drew: I don’t know. It’s down by the pier. That’s where the home is.
Me: Oh, okay.
Drew: Can I get anything for you?
Me: No, I’m good.
Me: …Good night?
Movie: Lady and the Tramp
Release year: 1955
My reaction: This is one of my all-time favorite Disney movies. Obviously a lot of my top 5 are princess movies, because I am a girl who was born in the 1980s. But I have a deep and abiding love for Lady and the Tramp. Like every second of it. I’m not even a dog person. As usual this weekend, we spent some time chasing B around, some time playing with him, and
some a little time sitting quietly as a family and watching the movie.
Fun film fact: You know the song Bella Notte, when Lady stays out all night with Tramp? There’s this theory that they sleep together, which in the 1950s was sort of a no-no. (Plus, the movie takes place during the 1890s.) That’s why she’s so upset afterward, because she gave up her honor. And that’s why Jock and Trusty offer to “marry” her – because she’s pregnant and they are trying to help her. I just really like that that’s another layer to the story that I never would have gotten as a kid.
Movie: Peter Pan
Release year: 1953
My reaction: This is one of Drew’s favorite Disney movies, so I like it too. It’s a good one. I feel that I’ve seen a lot of Peter Pan stuff lately. I must be thinking of Hook (always on TV), Peter and the Starcatcher (saw it at the end of last year), and Jake and the Neverland Pirates. I guess. But I like Peter Pan. And I want to go on the record as saying, I don’t care how many Buzzfeed articles I read about racism in the early Disney movies. I love them anyway.
And I think B is starting to actually watch parts of the movies. Which is fun for all of us.
And the next couple weeks are going to be two of my favorites! Stay tuned!
Fun Peter Pan fact: Did you know JM Barrie (the creator of Peter Pan) was friends with Sir Arthur Conan Doyle? And that Barrie invented the name Wendy? I just think that’s cool.
I’m giving up. Or taking a stand. Whatever you call it, I’m not going to put up with it any longer.
Tomatoes from the store (or restaurant, or wherever) don’t taste like anything anymore. I love tomatoes, but that’s not what I’m eating on my salads or sandwiches anymore. I don’t know WHAT I’m eating. They are red and round and they vary in size, but there’s no taste. Its purpose is texture only. And let’s face it, tomatoes can have a pretty gnarly texture.
So, this weekend, after shelling out for a clamshell pack of organic grape tomatoes at our local grocery store, only to throw them away because they tasted like soft sour nothing instead of just plain nothing…I’m not going to do it anymore.
I guess tomatoes just really suffer from being out of season, or not locally grown. So from now on, we’ll buy tomatoes during the months from July to October, and we’ll buy them only from farmer’s markets, or we’ll mooch them off our parents. I don’t want to forget what tomatoes taste like. This is the dystopian future I live in. Take that, Hunger Games / Divergent / The Maze Runner.
I arrived at the BART station yesterday morning and walked casually down the platform. I was just approaching one of the pre-walking marks on the ground when I noticed something strange. Looking up and down the platform, I saw single-file lines, with maybe 3 or 4 feet between each person, lined up in front of where the train doors would land. The people in these lines were reading newspapers, or looking at their phones.
Standing near the edge of the platform, I kept studying the lines. When did this happen?
I texted Drew: “Is it a bart manners thing to line up single file to wait for the train? Everyone is doing it here but I’ve never seen that before. Can I just stand near where the door will be or do I have to line up?”
He wrote back: “Yeah, it’s the opposite of the NY cluster.”
That’s what I’m used to…people pushing and shoving to get through the doors first. That’s what I’m comfortable with. Is that sick?
I said: “But…a single file line? I don’t like it. =( And now I realize I’ve been that beezy cutting lines the whole time?”
Then he called me a NY a-hole and I laughed out loud, and the train came, and while I didn’t push and shove to get on, I definitely didn’t wait for the line to go first, and then I camped out near the doors. So I’m definitely that bad-manners BART person who you glare at during your morning commute. Sorry about that! It’s been mostly inadvertent up until now.
In honor of my new routine of taking BART to work, I’m throwing back to an NYC subway post from my LiveJournal. This post hails from Feb 23, 2009.
I just need to marry someone who has good vision coverage…
This morning on the train a manly man got on and stood next to me. While glancing over his shoulder (bored) I noticed he was reading a paperback copy of In Her Shoes. This delighted me secretly and I admired him for his casual reading of chick lit on a crowded New York subway. Glancing over again, I saw one of the chapter headings: “A Harder Task Than Making Bricks Without Straw.” Hmm, that doesn’t really sound like Jennifer Weiner. I squinted closer at the book title in italics on the top of the left-hand page. Up From Slavery. (It’s the autobiography of Booker T Washington. I looked it up on Amazon.)
I think I might need a new contact prescription.