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Today I feel like the kid with all the cool toys. Since I’m finally in an office surrounded by real people (as opposed to Cat and teddy bears) I’ve been frolicking amongst the group showing off all my cool things. This is only slightly different from when I realized at the beginning of the week I’m starting to get arm muscles, and had to show those off.

That’s the thing about having cool toys. It’s fine and dandy to appreciate them yourself, but it’s extra awesome when you can hear people exclaim over them. I personally don’t view it as trying to rub my funness in people’s faces. I’m not trying to make them jealous of my wondrous gadgets.

It’s really the same idea of why I don’t like watching new movies by myself. I’ll watch movies over and over again all the time. But movies I haven’t seen before I prefer to watch with people. I want to share in on their reactions. I want the experience of sharing an experience.

So that was me today with my new favorite gizmos.

Awesome Item #1 is nail polish. I randomly found it on Monday, while my friends and I took a break from our vacation fest to go to Bed, Bath, and Beyond. We had legitimate reasons to be there, but of course then we ended up just wandering around browsing all the cool gadgets. I found they also had Awesome Item #2 in stock which everyone decided to buy (more on that later), and while leaving the area I spotted this nail polish out of the corner of my eye.

It’s magnetic nail polish. Not magnetic in the sense that you become Magneto and can easily steal pocket change while walking past strangers. You put on a layer, let it dry, then put on another layer, and using a magnet make these incredibly cool waves appear on your nails.

I didn’t try it out until last night, and it’s FREAKIN AWESOME. My nails look so nifty. You have no idea. 

Ok well you do, because I’m including a picture. I want to buy every other color available. All day I have been distracting myself with my incredibly shiny nails. It’s fantastic.

Maybe it even distracts away from my tiny hands??

Awesome Item #2 is lip gloss.

So to appreciate this, we must start with explaining a few key details about my lifestyle choices. I don’t really wear makeup. I have a tinted lotion I wear sometimes, and that’s about it. When I want to step it up, I put on eyeliner, and maybe some sort of lip color.

Now I actually used to wear a lot of lip stick/gloss/stain but that was because of my blue issue. I get cold very easily, and because my circulation is full of fail, my lips spend a lot of time either blue or purple. It looks unhealthy, so during the winter I am more likely to wear some kind of color so I look like a real person and not a (well preserved) zombie. However I’ve gotten lazier and lazier about makeup as time goes on, so even this has fallen by the wayside.

This lip gloss caught my eye though because it’s supposed to match to your perfect color, and I was intrigued. I didn’t think it would actually match by ph levels like it says, but then what was it going on? The base color of your lips? Temperature? I love to test things out, so I knew I had to buy it and play around.

Having no self restraint, I tried it on myself that first night. It was pretty. Not a color I’d ever buy, although it looked good on me. But this was inconclusive. I had to wait until I was visiting friends to run my true experiments.

So sure enough on Saturday three of us tried it out. Within minutes, we had three very different lip colors going on. And they all looked great! Not only did we have different colors, my color was different from the first time I wore it. The first time it was a very bright pink. This time it was more reddish. We were astounded!

This still wasn’t enough data for conclusive results, so we tried again Sunday. With completely new shades! This time, we also switched locations while wearing the lip gloss. And believe it or not, the shade adjusts when based on the light to become darker/lighter as needed.

This is why everyone had to buy some on Monday. Because it’s the coolest thing ever.

(Bad) pic of the color today. Tried not to smile so you could really see the color.

Now I’m not sure it’s really your “perfect” shade. I just had about 5 girls at work try it today, and it became a little too bright for them (although so far it is consistently brightest on me. I don’t know why it always gives me bright, bold colors). Not everyone is sold on it, but I’m rather in love. Not only is there the cool color changing aspect, it also isn’t as sticky as typical lip gloss, which is a big selling point to me.

I super want a guy to try it. I’m just curious to see if it reacts differently. This is my new goal in life, to convince a guy to try it out. Please don’t hesitate to contact me and volunteer!

For the Few: Snow White & The Huntsman

If you haven’t seen Snow White & The Huntsman, you might not want to read this. I have some strong opinions about the movie and want to talk about them. I’m not going to completely hedge my words so I don’t give away plot points. No filter, guys. POTENTIAL SPOILER ALERT!

My first year of college I took a class on horror films, and one of our course books was all about filmography so we could learn to properly critique the movies we watched. Not even going to lie, I only read the first assignment, which was all about mise-en-scène. We watched a movie every week and had to write a short journal every week, so I had a LOT of entries about mise-en-scène. Sadly, I have no mise-en-scène comments about Snow White & The Huntsman, so this is really just me rambling my opinions.

The first part of the movie was excellent. I hate Kristen Stewart, so I wasn’t sure I could get past that. At the beginning though, I could. I love Charlize Theron as Ravenna. She is absolutely amazing. The visuals of the film are stunning.

Sure, there were a few things at the beginning that weren’t perfect. Some of the initial interactions between Snow White and the Huntsman (seriously, he doesn’t have a name, so from now on we’re calling him TH) were rather awkward. They have this deep conversation about drinking away sorrows that felt entirely too forced no matter how sexy I found TH.

Then, they’re randomly walking through the forest and all of a sudden TH decides he’s going to teach Snow White how to kill people. Literally, the scene starts with them walking, and for no rhyme or reason TH just turns around and starts teaching her how to stab someone.

I am super happy I got to see this movie with my friend Jenn, so we could sit and make snarky comments to each other. This was a snarky comment moment. I mean really, this scene is so pointed it’s obvious it’s going to have some bearing on the plot. And they couldn’t find any way to casually introduce this to the viewers, instead of just shoving it in our faces?

Seriously, same scene.

Past that moment I was into it again for a while. I did feel like the whole hart spirit scene was totally copied from Miyazaki’s Princess Mononoke, but whatever.

It wasn’t until Snow White dies that things really start falling apart.

Let me say first of all the movie is long, and it feels long. And it honestly feels like the people making the movie decided it was too long, so they just tried to jumble everything together into a quick, crap ending.

Halfway through the movie, Jenn and I were like “I need to own this!” By the end of the movie, we were like “really?? No, really??”

Because after Snow White dies, everything just becomes completely implausible so they could quickly finish the movie. TH makes some moving speech and kisses her, and of course all of us that know the story know it brings her back to life. Yet somehow although his love is what brings her back, they don’t manage to find time for a private conversation until they’re sitting on horses about to enter battle. Ok, ok, you’re busy plotting to overthrow an evil queen, but I’m pretty freaking sure you can make time to say something more than “hey” to the woman you love that just came back from the dead.

Then too, whereas in the first part of the movie Snow White is special for things like her purity and courage, all of a sudden when she comes back to life she’s giving (not) rousing speeches to stir the populace to war, making battle plans, and deflecting arrows with her arm. At what point did she learn this stuff?? She was locked in a tower the majority of her life. I seriously doubt there’s a War for Dummies class in heaven/purgatory/wherever-the-heck-she-was-when-dead.

But for argument’s sake, let’s say there was. Sun Tsu’s in the afterlife giving lectures. Well somehow they also have armor ready to go that fits her. Not even like just chainmail that could somewhat fit anyone. Like fitted armor. And what’s more, she moves in it just fine. Armor is heavy. I mean it’s pounds and pounds of metal; of course it’s heavy. Yet Snow White is maneuvering like it’s nothing. What, was she hitting the gym in the afterlife too??

Of course they win the battle, and all is right with the world. And then the most annoying part of the movie happens. Snow White is crowned, and she sits there and breathes. For minutes. Just sitting there breathing.

I’m not entirely sure what Kristen Stewart was going for when she sat there breathing. Regal breathing? Epic breathing? Chest-heaving breathing? It’s up there in my top 20 of most ridiculous scenes ever. And then TH shows up, not bowing cuz he’s bamf, and he nails a longing look across the unwashed masses, while Snow White… breathes. Is this now longing breathing? Totally didn’t know such a thing exists. Or that it looks exactly like regal/epic breathing.

If someone wants to fix the last 20 minutes of the movie, I think I will love it. Until then, I think I need to mock it, frequently. It’s really just a way to deal with my own disappointment.

Honest And True Time

When defining nerds, geeks, and thus neeks one key word really sticks out: obsessive. The past few weeks have really kicked this trait into high gear. Why? Two words my friends, two words. Vampire Diaries.

IT SHOULD BE GOOD!

Let’s start at the beginning of the story. My friend Jenn accidentally started watching the show when Netflix didn’t have something else she wanted to watch available. A few days later she starts recommending the show to me, swearing up and down I’d absolutely love it. I had no intention of watching it though. Not because I doubted Jenn (she’s fairly spot on with her recommendations), but because I don’t have Netflix, and I have a very firm rule about not buying movies/shows I haven’t watched yet. This rule stems from when I bought The Fountain. Hugh Jackman and Rachel Weisz. Legend of the fountain of youth. What could I possibly not like about this??? Everything, apparently.

So Jenn, knowing how I am, took it upon herself to buy me the first season of Vampire Diaries. I currently both love and hate her for this.

Because I am OBSESSED. In fact, I’ve already finished the first season. Halfway through the first season I realized I would die a little inside if I didn’t have the second season ready to go when I finished (they’re big on cliffhangers) so I ran out with the sole intention of buying it. I’m a little on edge knowing that the third season isn’t available until August. In fact, around when it comes out I might declare Vampire Diaries week and have a post every day about something I love from the show.

It’s not just that it’s vampires. I mean I like vampires, but anyone that reads/watches a lot of vampire related material knows there are vampires, and then there are vampires done right. I was sure this would not be done right. It’s a teen show for crying out loud! Clearly it had to be some kind of bad Twilight knockoff (which makes me shudder to think of something worse than Twilight).

But the characters are brilliant, the storyline is compelling, and almost beside the point, I’m actually really enjoying their take on vampires.

The problem is, Honest And True Time, I really love Damon over Stefan.

Hold up, before I explain why, let’s delve a little into the idea of Honest And True Time.

Honest And True Time is a phrase I started at some point in college. I have no idea why I first said it, but once I did, it was the phrase one would use before revealing some bit of information fundamental to yourself. So saying, “Honest And True Time guys, the sky is blue,” is a misuse of the phrase and deserves punishment. However, something like “Honest And True Time, I think I have an addiction to diet pepsi” is completely acceptable even if everyone else ALREADY KNOWS IT. The point is that the revelation is new to you.

I don’t remember if this is when I first used the phrase, but a prime example of Honest And True Time would be the Harry Potter Naked Horse episode.

You’ll probably remember that at some point Daniel Radcliff decided to do the play Equus which involves horses and him being naked on stage. That’s all I really know about that. But this picture of him standing naked next to the horse was all over the web. My roommate called me and Jenn to her computer to see it, and after a moment of silence, we both realized that when faced with a naked man and a horse, all we could notice was his jawline.

Weird, right? This was our moment of discovery that we are primarly attracted to men with strong, chiseled, delicious jawlines. It was a light bulb moment. All of a sudden I realized all my favorite male celebrities have the same type of jawline. I’ve been unconsciously seeking strong jawlines my entire life! Thus I could now declare Honest And True Time, I’m attracted to men’s jawlines.

Now that you understand the idea of Honest And True Time, you might wonder why it matters that I prefer one fictional vampire over another from some silly tv show.

Sexpot on right = Damon

Because this is indicative of my preference in general for men. It’s not because Damon is hotter (although I find him super lust worthy, don’t get me wrong). And honestly, Stefan is the way better person/boyfriend. He’s sweet. He’s caring. He tries to understand your feelings and behave appropriately.

In the words of Damon himself, Damon's kind of a dick.

But I love him! He’s exciting. He’s dark. He’s not all broody and sentimental all the time. Sure, he kills people ruthlessly and he can’t handle rejection. Yes, in his efforts to help people he isn’t above threats and maiming. And yeah maybe half of what he says is sarcastic and cutting, but that’s okay, right?

I know, I know, guys always say girls just want the jerks. Here I am, proving them right. First of all, I’m not saying this is true for everyone. I’m saying that personally, Honest And True Time, I have realized that I really don’t want a good guy. At least not somebody that’s good all the time, like Stefan. And certainly not somebody as clingy as Stefan. I need to know I can be free to wander around on my own making bad decisions. And I need to know a guy is going to wander off on his own, making bad decisions too. Because that keeps us growing. What I fear above all else, is life becoming too stagnant. It’s boring. I can’t handle boring.

And Vampire Diaries is ANYTHING but boring.

Steal My Sunshine

Happy Father’s Day to all the proud papas of the world!

When I think of my mother, I think of movies we watch together. Probably because my mother is one of those people that frequently talks during movies (“what’s happening? Why did they just go in the creepy building!? What do I know that actor from?”). If she wasn’t so adorable I’d be afraid to take her out to see movies in public. But when I think of my dad, I always think of music.

I’m a little weird on music. I grew up listening to my dad’s music, so I was probably the only 6 year old running around singing Pink Floyd and George Michael. Mixed in with that was some Paula Abdul, which I particularly loved. I have no idea why my father had this CD, but I’d make him play Forever Your Girl over and over again, belting out each song. I liked it much better than some of his other music, like The Alan Parsons Project.

My dad seems to have my same strange trend in music choices. Not that we always like the same things, but just that we have very eclectic tastes. I already mentioned that he liked Paula Abdul. Well when I was 11 he got the Shania Twain CD. We listened to that CD so many times as he drove me to school…. And just to make sure you get the full mental picture, we’d go in his miata convertible, top down, my hair blowing in the breeze, me singing my little heart out as usual… yeah, I’m sure it was a bit of a strange sight. In fact Shania Twain songs remind me so much of my father, that for a while I had That Don’t Impress Me Much as his ringtone. Initially I had it set to Man! I Feel Like a Woman, but my mother protested.

After that I started to find music of my own, but my daddy was more than willing to add it to our car tunes during road trips. Which is how we ended up listening to Backstreet Boys and Spice Girls countless times. It takes a special kind of man to listen straight through 2 Spice Girls CDs without going insane on the preteen girl next to him, hogging the front seat of the car as usual.

But the song that absolutely stands out in my mind when I think of my father, is Steal My Sunshine.

SEE!

Generally I think my dad’s genes made my mom’s genes their bitch, as I am remarkably like my dad in looks, skills, temperament… you name it. In fact when I dress up as a guy (for themed parties or events!) I could be his younger doppelgänger if my head was just slightly more round. My brother is the opposite. He takes way more after my mother, although his personality is the exact same as my dad’s.

This drove me insane when I was a teenager, for various reasons. One being that I absolutely hated having brown hair & eyes. And I don’t even have exciting shades of brown for either one. No, I’m like absolutely middle-of-the-road-completely-average boring. This gave me a lot of self-esteem issues.

The other problem was that where I had been a happy child, I was an ANGRY teenager. Yeah, yeah, I know everyone has teenage angst, but it was waaaaaaaay exaggerated for me because my parents moved us around the same time. I was angry. I was bitter. I was withdrawn. I was an evil devilspawn that any second might go off and make you fear for your life.

My poor mother actually bore the brunt of my evilness, but I think my father, sharing my temperament, understood it better.

So when I became angry and withdrawn, my father revealed that he had gone through the same thing, and believe it or not it would get better. Of course I didn’t believe him, so he would use any occasion to give me helpful little tips to get me through it.

The one that really sunk in was when I was watching the Steal My Sunshine video on MTV. Ya know, back when they actually played music videos the majority of the time. I was sitting there watching it, probably pouting as usual, (as I’ve said, it’s like my default response to life), and Dad came up behind me.

“Look at that girl, and how she smiles all the time. Do you see how much prettier she is when she smiles? Why don’t you try that?”

Simple words, but it was a lightening strike. I won’t say overnight I stopped being completely horrible to my poor parents, but those words sunk in.

Every parent contributes in some way to their child, whether genetics, learned traits, or morals. When we become adults, we have more opportunity to choose our own paths that take us away from what we learned. But I have based my life off those words.

Because it wasn’t really about being “prettier.” My dad’s a smart man. He said what would grab my attention. It’s about being happy. It’s about your outlook on life. I was choosing to mope, to be miserable. I could just as easily choose to be happy. I could make the best of a bad situation. And that’s what I’ve decided to do.

So now, I am actually known for my smile. I am known for being happy, perky, adorable… you get the picture. And honestly it’s not that I’m happy all the time. It’s because when I get stressed, after a little internal freak out, I breathe and remember those words. And then I smile, because I choose to do so.

My daddy is amazing, and I love him. But when I think of him what comes to my mind first is not all the times of the past when he demonstrated his awesomeness, but the fact I know my future will be a bright one, because he taught me how to make it happen.

WE’RE FRIENDS!

Us back in the day

Today is the birthday of one of my oldest and most fabulous friends (HAPPY BIRTHDAY!). And by oldest, I don’t mean she is old. Heaven forbid, as actually the brat is a month younger than me, and as she points out, will always be younger than me no matter how old we get.

Because my family felt the urge to move every time I had settled down into comfortable friendships, I don’t have any “lifetime friends” as it were. However, I have people like my friend Kristyn that even though I haven’t known my entire life, I would consider a lifetime friend.

I met Kristyn after moving in middle school. In a small town where everyone pretty much already knew everyone, she was one of the few people willing to make friends with the new girl. Of course, Kristyn could probably make friends with anyone she wanted to. She’s a Gemini, and she can charm you into almost anything. It’s lucky for us she chooses to use this power for good, and only occasionally for her own devious purposes.

Middle and high school was easy for our friendship, because while we didn’t have every class together, since we were in the same sort of courses we could count on seeing the other at least once a day. We could bitch about homework, whisper about secret crushes, and giggle at anything we found ridiculous (meaning everyone else in the school, and sometimes ourselves). There was nothing we couldn’t discuss. No moment too humiliating (such as ripping pants from dancing too vigorously) or too personal.

However, after high school hanging out was crazy difficult. We went to college in different areas. It was over a 2 hour drive, without traffic, between our schools, and while we’d visit each other at least once a year it wasn’t something we could do every weekend and stay sane. During breaks, we found it hard to coordinate schedules because we’re both workaholics that were unwilling to lose hours as we needed the money. Still, we kept up to date on what was happening, and would pop in on the other while working just to say “hey!” and maybe drop off a snack or drink.

Once I moved off to another state for work, seeing each other got even harder as when I was back I typically was seeing my family. It doesn’t help that neither one of us is great at phone conversations. I hate calling people. I also hate texting. Not exactly conducive to staying in touch.

Us now

Yet despite all that, I never feel that we’ve fallen apart. When we see each other we catch up on any big life events, but underneath it all we’ve stayed the same. Nothing Kristyn has done in the past few years while I’ve been gone has shocked me, and while I’m always running into utterly ridiculous situations, I’d be willing to bet that while Kristyn laughs at them, nothing really shocks her either based on our past experiences.

So while some people think it’s weird that I still consider someone from high school, that I rarely see, a super close friend, it makes sense to me.

Of course this begs the question of how you define friendship. Obviously, there are different levels of friends. Some will always be closer than others. Sometimes you might meet someone new that you just click with in a whole new way. But at what point do you get past that level of “acquaintances” to close friends? Or from that, to BFFs?

People never have “the TALK” for friends like they do for relationships. Seriously, for your last few serious boy/girlfriends, did you not at some point define the relationship? When you were exclusive, when you breaking up… but have you ever called a friend to say “I think we should see other people?” Have you ever started off a day of shopping by saying “ok, so I think by now we’re comfortable referring to each other as BFs, right?” No!

Now in college my group of friends was a little obsessed with re-defining things, such as what constitutes a sport. So of course we also tackled this idea of when you technically become friends with a person.

I believe it was brought on by my classes with a certain person we called Emo Boy. He was another English major, so I ended up sharing several classes with him over a year. Somewhere during the second semester we ended up trading jokes, talking, and whatnot. Yet I wouldn’t say I felt comfortable inviting him out for drinks or something similar. One day we did something, maybe hung out after class? I don’t even know. Regardless, at that point my friends started joking that we were now friends.

But again, it wasn’t like we were texting, going to events together, anything like that. So somehow we decided that one only becomes officially “friends” with a person, as opposed to “classmates,” “buddies,” or “friendly acquaintances” by running up to that person randomly, and yelling “WE’RE FRIENDS!!”

Yelling is key. Whispering, or even talking in a normal voice, does not count. If that person doesn’t immediately disagree with the proposed friendship, they have implicated their consent to the friend contract. 

You probably won’t be surprised to hear that I never ran up to Emo Boy and yelled “WE’RE FRIENDS!” I don’t think we were that comfortable. Yet every time I think about defining friendship now, this is what I think of. And I can guarantee that if I did this to Kristyn, she’d be cool with it. She’d probably call me a spaz, but nothing new there.

The Evolution of Drinking

Tomorrow is National Iced Tea Day! I just made a fresh batch of iced tea to celebrate. I’m already drinking some, but it’s not really super cold yet. It’ll be better tomorrow.

If you told me 10 years ago I’d love iced tea in the future, I would have laughed in your face. If you remained serious, I probably would have taken you for a psych evaluation. I’d find it easier to believe you telling me that I would be the mother of the humankind’s last hope than that I’d grow to love iced tea. A friend tried to get me to drink tea when I was like 11, and the only way I drank it was with almost the same amount of sugar as tea. Seriously, the sugar couldn’t even dissolve.

Sure, tastes can change, but if you plotted out my taste in drinks over the years on a graph, it’d be a very gradual curve for about 20 years of my life. Adding tea as a plot point would create such a huge spike that if it was on a seismograph, all the scientists of the world would freak out and announce the end of life as we know it.

It’s very easy to track the evolution of my taste in drinks, because as I said, the change was minimal for the majority of my life.

This, of course, is only if you exclude when I was a baby. My mother alleges that as a baby/toddler I was quite normal and drank milk, ate fruits, and all sorts of things that I’m just not sure I believe. There is absolutely no evidence to back her up.

Now starting with my memories, which are clearly more reliable, you have only one main drink when I was young. That was water. Milk disgusted me. It still does. Chocolate milk was okay, but it started to wear out its welcome as that was about the only thing I drank, since my mother was willing to accept it as a healthy alternative. I wasn’t really big on juice. Certain juices were acceptable, but I had very particular tastes.

I’m not sure at what age this started, but eventually I started to love diet coke/pepsi. My parents drank tons of it, and what probably started as small sips morphed into a lifetime love.

We traveled a lot when I was young, and I always caused the old ladies sitting with me on planes to cackle when I ordered a diet pop (because I almost always was the family member abandoned to sit with strangers. 4 people have to split up when airplane seats are ordered in 3s. In retrospect this was probably a wise decision by my parents. I simply can’t imagine strangers putting up with my brother for hours, and having always been an independent sort they knew I didn’t really care). “Are you on a diet, dearie??” They’d ask almost every time. I’d pout, because that’s like my main response to life, and all offended say “no!!! I just like it better!” Which was true. But granted, it’s probably a little weird when the 8 year old in pigtails and Winnie the Pooh overalls is ordering a diet pepsi.

This continued for years. My mother generally didn’t keep pop in the house (probably fearing I’d find it and drink it all. We had other problems in our house with things like icecream and cookie dough mysteriously disappearing) but my father really liked to eat out, and I was allowed to order it when we were out.

This might have continued indefinitely actually, but 2 big events happened that changed my drinking habits.

The first was that I went and stayed with my aunt for a week or two. I didn’t see much of my aunts and uncles because we didn’t live in the same area, but somehow it got arranged that I could go stay with my aunt in one of those Carolina states. I had a lovely time. I was a pre-teen, and my cousin was an older, super cool teenager, so I soaked up tons of teen-life wisdom. I also switched to regular pepsi, as that was the drink of choice in their house. So again, while it was a change, it was a small change.

It was only a few years though until I switched back to diet pepsi instead. This was mainly because I was now allowed to have pop at home, and the sheer amount I drank a day made me start to consider the calories involved, so having discovered I still enjoyed diet pepsi just as much, I switched back. The big difference then was my preference for pepsi over coke. As a kid, while I drank both I was more of a coke fan. As a teenager, I could drink coke if nothing else was available, but by god if my mother tried to convince me to buy coke just because it was on sale, we had some problems.

Because I <3 pepsi

If you know me at all, you might happen to know that at this point, I can admit I was actually addicted to diet pepsi. No one really considers this a real thing, but then again most people don’t drink it the same way I did. I drank NOTHING else. Water, occasionally, but that’s it. The worst years were early college, where I can say without exaggerating that I was drinking about 10 cans/glasses of diet pepsi a day.

So how did I end up drinking iced tea? Well, it’s mainly because of the 2^nd big event – a routine visit to the dentist. After the dentist became convinced I was bulimic because the diet pepsi was rotting away all of my tooth enamel, I started to cut down.

You have no idea how hard this was. I initially cut down to 4 a day, and I got myself some stickers so I could track my progress on the calendar. If I drank more than 4 I got a red star, which was bad. 4 was a blue star, 3 silver, and 1 or 2 a gold star. There weren’t many gold stars involved. After a few months I cut down to 3, and this was so hard that I decided I’d allow myself to stick to 3 with no further cutting back.

Sometimes the future looked a little bleak to me. When you’re 22, it’s miserable to imagine years spent constantly monitoring pepsi limits. But I didn’t have the strength to quit completely until last summer, after I went on a cruise with friends and

A.     They pestered me about it the whole time (apparently most people think my diet pepsi habits are unhealthy)

B.     I had less available (because apparently the cruise ship didn’t think people drank pop at 8 in the morning, so they wouldn’t provide it until afternoon)

C.     I realized that while it wasn’t pleasant, I could in fact survive without drinking it.

So I switched to tea, because while I was willing to give up pepsi I sure as sugar wasn’t willing to give up caffeine. A few months later I discovered that I even liked iced tea. And the good news is that even when I do things like buy a rt 44 size of iced tea from Sonic, I know that it’s still waaaaaaay better for me than the same thing with diet pepsi.

Evil Sandwich Attack

Do you have any weird quirks that sometimes make you go “man, I wish I were normal?” For the most part I embrace my weirdness. I’m a proud neek. But there is a certain idiosyncrasy of mine that I WOULD ABSOLUTELY change if possible.

It’s my sandwich issue.

I am a picky eater. I will admit this. Certain tastes just don’t appeal to me. Certain textures make me want to gag. And let’s not even talk about smell.

The scary thing is that I’m actually much better with my eating tendencies than I used to be. My friends are amazed at all the stuff I can eat now that I used to reject. Part of it is just evolving taste buds. Part is my new willingness to try things with an open mind. The “open mind” bit is the important word there. I used to agree to try things, having already decided I wouldn’t like it. As a Taurus, once I decide something it’s a lost cause. I don’t care if you give me ambrosia, if I had already decided to dislike it, I will swear up and down it’s disgusting and never eat it again just to prove my point.

The main problem with me and food, and this hasn’t really changed, is that I don’t like anything complex. Very simple fare agrees with me. As a child, I practically existed off things like white rice, bread and butter, beef broth with noodles, and eggs. As I’ve grown I’ve started to like slightly more involved dishes. Yet I’m still not a fan when there’s too much included. So while I’ll eat chicken & gravy over biscuits, if you give me a casserole with chicken, mushrooms, onions, carrots, and cheese in it, I’m going to die a little inside. I like most of those things. I’d eat most of them separately, or in smaller combinations. I just don’t want everything added all together.

Food touching is another big issue. I don’t like to eat food that has other parts of food on it. If I’m eating mac & cheese and corn on the cob, and some of the corn touches some of the mac & cheese, I probably will not eat that bite of corn. There are some exceptions. Gravy is the exception king, but still I wouldn’t eat something like carrots that got gravy on them. Ew. I’m grossing myself out here. 

I don’t like this about myself. For one, it makes life difficult. I feel like a jerk whenever I order a hamburger with only ketchup. I hate myself a little when friends only mention dinner options when they know the restaurant has something I’d eat (although of course I adore them for putting up with me). And worst of all, I feel so guilty when I’m working and people provide lunch, that I have to eat it regardless.

This is my sandwich issue.

Almost every single other person in the world likes sandwiches. Amazingly enough, I have found one other person that dislikes them. God bless them; they’re my enabler. It’s not as bad now, as when I thought I was the only one.

But still, when people provide free lunch they stick to two choices: sandwiches or pizza. Pizza is the better option for me, because while I may or may not be very slightly allergic to tomatoes, I do like pizza, and I can pick off any weird toppings. However, since everyone knows everyone likes sandwiches, that’s almost always what they provide.

These are the sandwiches I like:

-peanut butter & jelly (but only grape jelly)

-roast beef (but only if it’s chunks of roast beef, I don’t like sliced deli meat)

-plain turkey (but only if it’s chunks of turkey, although if it’s sliced I’ll pick turkey over roast beef)

-grilled cheese (but I’m very particular about the cheese. Kraft is acceptable)

-the #11 at Jimmy John’s when there’s no mayo (and really this is new, and it’s drunk food, I can eat it sober but it’s kinda meh)

That’s it. Now how often do you think these are the sandwiches people get when bringing an assortment of sandwiches?

Yeah… make that never. So when I’m working somewhere and they’re so sweet to offer “free lunch!” I’m secretly just praying for the strength to eat whatever random sandwich they bring. Because sandwiches are the ultimate enemy of picky eaters that don’t like food touching.

There’s just so much food squished into one small, evil, little space. There are all kinds of sauces and spreads people want to add on. Everything I hate in the world has been brought into one disgusting morsel, and I need to eat it and smile and graciously thank the person for the meal.

I’m not ungrateful. I truly appreciate anyone providing lunch. And I’m super happy I live where I have easy access to food!! I just find it very challenging to both eat the sandwich and convincingly act like it’s delicious. I expend more energy into pretending I like it, and can only ever force myself to eat like half, at best.

I know, I know, first world problems and all that. I just wish this didn’t come up for me so often. Is it weird that I’d be happier if they just didn’t feed me lunch at all, and I skipped a meal, over having to choke down yet another sandwich?

Curse you John Montagu, (generally) credited inventor of the sandwich. This is your fault, sir. Once I get my time machine working, I plan to slap you soundly about the face. Maybe then I’ll finally stop stressing out over sandwiches. Or I could jump forward 5 years in the future, at which point maybe my taste buds would have continued to evolve, and I will like sandwiches. I can only hope.

A Question of Genre

Currently I’m watching The Holiday and eating candy cigarettes. I love this movie, it’s adorable, and Kate Winslet’s character is too sweet. I want to give her like 5 millions hugs. This then makes me think of The Reader. Not that I’ve watched the movie, but I saw the commercials with Kate Winslet, and I read the book. Completely different character. I’d be a bit interested in seeing Kate Winslet like that, but having read the book, I don’t feel the need to watch the movie. Mostly because I didn’t really love the book. It’s weird how that works.

Really, the whole book versus movie thing is a loaded question. I think this is something neeks will debate til the end of time. Nor is this only restrained to “books” and “movies,” the same thing happens when you adapt a comic or when you’re turning a book into a tv show instead of a movie.

I used to think I always preferred the book version. Which makes sense, considering how much I love reading. And in a lot of cases this is still absolutely true, like with Memoirs of a Geisha, The Other Boleyn Girl, and Interview with a Vampire.

My new theory though is that I prefer whichever version I encounter first. I saw Chocolat several times before reading the book, and I didn’t like the book much at all. Same with Stardust, and Perfume. Now typically the reason I like the book more is that you get so much more background information, and I like having that knowledge. Yet especially with Stardust and Perfume, I didn’t feel like I needed that background to enjoy the movie. Perfume for instance is so visually compelling, the characters and plot are almost secondary to my enjoyment. Thus when I read the book and that’s all I had to work with, I found I really wasn’t drawn into the story at all.

This isn’t true for everyone, obviously. In fact most of these examples my friend has read/watched as well, and it’s about 50/50 when we agree on which versions we prefer.

And yet there are still even more adaptations that defy my theory. They really fit into a whole class of their own. These are the adaptations where I like both the original and the movie version equally.

Keep in mind, this doesn’t mean these are the adaptions that stick the closest to the original version. I think the key problem with adaptions is when people don’t understand that rule. An adaption doesn’t have to be exact, it just has to capture the feel of the original.

For instance I love all of the Lord of the Rings equally. Sure, things were changed all around. In fact I get a bit annoyed when Faramir drags Frodo back with him, but overall I think they did a wonderful job envisioning the world Tolkien had created. Same with The Hunger Games. I absolutely adored the first book. Probably that would still be my first choice over the movie, but it’s very close. All of the changes were appropriate to the large difference in how the information is being presented. The book, being first person, lets you know exactly what Katniss is thinking, and that’s all you know. The movie took advantage of seeing other areas when Katniss wasn’t around, and I loved it. And who isn’t loving Game of Thrones?? I mean really.

Hottest Vampire EVER

This next one is a little controversial for fans, but I’m going to say it anyways. I also like both the book and the movie for Queen of the Damned. This is an adaptation that went wwwwwwwweeeeeeeeellllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll away from the original version. Basically the only thing that’s the same is the names of characters. Yet I love it. I wouldn’t go so far to say that it’s a good adaptation. But nonetheless I find something hauntingly beautiful about the movie.

You know really, there are even more examples that ruin my theory. Take Speed Racer. I did not like the cartoon as a child. I watched it, but it got on my nerves. I’m not even sure this was the cartoon’s fault. The only time I watched it was late at night, what nowadays is the time for Adult Swim on Cartoon Network. I frequently stayed over at my friend Bri’s house, and she had a tv in her room that she left on all night. I didn’t like changing the channel because I was in a top bunk, didn’t want to move (there were monsters under the bed), didn’t have a remote, and couldn’t sleep because I found it difficult to fall asleep until late at night. Thus, I was stuck with Speed Racer.

However, the minute I saw previews for the movie I was uber excited. It looked amazing. I dragged friends to see it for my birthday, and I LOVED it. Speed Racer is now one of my absolute favorite movies. And while all the references to the show cracked me up, I still would not want to watch the original cartoon.

I could go on and on with more examples. I’m sure you could provide tons too. It’s fun to consider the differences in version and which you prefer, because I think in the end it says a lot about your personality when you figure out why you prefer one version over another.

Not nearly as good as it looks.

And maybe there’s some secret formula for creating the perfect adaptation. If there is, we should certainly spend our time figuring it out. That way when you hear your favorite book is being turned into a movie, you don’t have to have that moment of blind panic where you wonder if they’re going to completely screw it up. Like X-Men 3.