Category Archives: entertainment

and tears were shed…the joys of being me

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So, I don’t know if you have all gleaned this from reading my blog, but I am an extremely emotional person. And by emotional, I mean I cry. I cry when I’m really happy, when I’m really sad, when something is really sweet and when I’m really, really angry. And PMS only exacerbates the problem I like to call overactive tear ducts. I can now appreciate this about myself, but it took me years to get here.

Let me share with you my most recent experiences with auto-produced saline (yes, PMS is currently underway…and you’re welcome for the overshare). Oh, and these are just from today. And you thought I was exaggerating. Silly rabbit.

Incident #1: My sisters were in town this weekend. My sister just older than me came with her husband and their 3-month-old little girl who is an absolute doll.

We had so much fun! I got to babysit for a few hours yesterday and Baby Girl just slept on me, so sweet, so peaceful. I was in heaven. Not having my own children, there is nothing as sweet as holding one of my siblings’ sleeping babies. Sister and brother-in-law ended up adding 12 hours to their trip, so they left this morning. I heard the garage open (you know, because I live over it) and jumped out of bed to make sure I could say goodbye. It turns out it was just my dad loading their luggage. So, I ran in the house and up the stairs to their room so that I could say goodbye.

And then it happened. This sudden wave of emotions took me completely by surprise. I said goodbye really quickly and was off. I barely made it past my brother-in-law before tears started streaming down my face. I spent the majority of my shower crying…and the tears are welling up as I write this. (And Erika, please don’t be offended that your departure didn’t make me cry…remember that I’m going to see you on Thursday…and I was crying over the baby, not the sister).

Incident #2 (perhaps the most embarrassing): Later today, at work, I was plugging along, doing my job, when Donna Lewis started singing, I Love You Always Forever on the radio. Along with being an emotional person, I have a very sensory memory; auditory and olfactory. So, when I heard this song after my rough morning, I had all of these memories flood my head. Memories of a very hard period in my life. A period when I was very, very angry. It was a low point…and music was the thing that kept me sane. This particular album (the whole thing) was one that I would listen to over and over again.

As the song played, for some reason (it plays often enough that usually the emotions don’t get very strong) I thought about all of this and about how far I’ve come since that period 10 years ago. And I was overcome with gratitude for how truly blessed I have been in my life. And that’s when it happened, right at my desk, sitting at my computer, with a constant flow of people coming and going. My eyes filled with fluid to the point of overflowing. Given my emotional state and my hormones, I just couldn’t help it. Sometimes, I really think turning my emotions off would not be such a bad thing. I mean, crying at work? Who does that? Thankfully, I don’t think anyone noticed…and because crying people in my office are not exactly a rarity, tissues are always readily available. I had to laugh at myself just a bit.

Incident #3 (okay, this one might really be the most embarrassing): Tonight I went to see Evening with the girls (Sarah, EK, KP, and Candice). I have wanted to see this movie since the first time I saw a preview for it. The truth is, along with being extremely emotional, I am very easily entertained (connection? probably not). Anyway, the movie was AWFUL. I’m sorry, but it really was. It probably didn’t help that I was sitting with the peanut gallery, but that was what made the movie bearable. Anyway, this movie dragged on and on and on. We were all just dying for it to end, for our misery to be over. And then it was nearly there, and as absolutely stupid as the movie was, when the mom dies at the end (it’s not even a good death scene…no closure whatsoever), the tears began to flow. So there I am, everyone else still in the process of making fun of the movie, wiping tears from my cheeks and sniffling away.

It is really and truly pathetic just how emotional I am, and yet I have come to love it. I have always loved that my eyes turn this amazing shade of green when they are full of tears and blood shot, but now it’s more than that. The crying is part of what makes me me. You can always count on me to cry with you…or instead of you. No one ever wonders how I’m feeling because my leaking eyes are not capable of keeping a secret. And I am okay with that. I have finally realized that my tears are not a sign of instability, just a very sensitive heart. (Hey, no comments from the peanut gallery…even sensitive people can be mean sometimes). Although I must admit, I’m glad it only gets this bad once a month, even if it does last a week.

the law of the ass factor

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So the title is a bit, well, offensive. I debated using “the law of the jerk factor”, but it just didn’t work for me. Yes, I’m a bad person. But the truth is the truth and this is who I am. Don’t you judge me. Don’t you dare judge me. (Or judge me, but just don’t tell me about it).

Moving on. Last night, Sarah and I were watching Stomp the Yard. For those of you who haven’t seen it, I have one word for you…yum. It is a bunch of fine black men dancing with their shirts off. The romance part of it is classic. Cute boy from the wrong side of the tracks wants girl from the right side of them, but she already has a boyfriend who, incidentally, is both good looking and wealthy, and, as we discover slowly, a jerk.

So, we’re watching the movie, drooling over Columbus Short, and then I say, “You know, the other guy could be seriously hot if it weren’t for the ass factor.” And that is when a name was given to a phenomenon with which we are all familiar. Let me illustrate.

When you first see the guy in the movie, he’s easy on the eyes, but he’s a total pig throughout the entire movie. And so, by the end, you really come to loathe him…and think he’s really not good looking. The reverse ass factor is also true. You can have some perfectly average person become completely irresistible. I like to call this the reverse ass factor transformation.

Personality makes such a difference (at least to someone who isn’t completely and totally carnal) when it comes to looks. A guy once asked me what my type was…and I really could not answer the question. I just don’t have one. I have dated tall, short, skinny, fat, hairy, balding, blond, brunette, blue eyed, brown eyed. I don’t have any kind of standard. I never have. Sure, I can appreciate a “hot guy”, but that’s about where it ends if there isn’t something of substance. This is how I’ve always been.

Maybe guys and girls are different this way, but I know lots of girls who feel the same way I do. It’s amazing how a guy who really isn’t that cute (sorry to use that word in conjunction with guy, but if that bugs you, you really should get over it) can become seriously attractive because his personality is amazing. There’s seriously a transformation of perception. It’s not that you can suddenly overlook his average appearance, it’s that it really is no longer average.

By the same token, and this is where the ass factor comes in, you can be attracted to a guy initially and talk about how hot he is and then, suddenly, you just don’t understand what you, or anyone else, ever saw in him. He’s just not that cute.

One of the reasons I love the movie(s) Pride and Prejudice (both versions…sad, but true) is the reverse ass factor transformation. It’s fascinating how, at the beginning of the movie, Mr. Darcy just isn’t the same Mr. Darcy as he is when Elizabeth finally accepts his proposal. And he hasn’t changed, physically, in the least. But I would submit to you that the betrothed Mr. Darcy is one seriously fine specimen. And there’s also the regular ass factor transformation…poor Mr. Wickham.

I have been very attracted to some very average guys, I have slowly become less and less attracted to some very good looking ones, and I once became super attracted to the hottest guy I have ever dated because he was also so nice and funny, (and had these great tattoos on the back of his amazing calves…he had a few rebellious years). It’s really too bad that I went a little crazy because we would have made beautiful babies…another post for another day.

I’m sure this is not new information. I’m sure most of you realize that this is the case. I’m not trying to say that hot guys are jerks who thereby become less hot, nor am I trying to be an advocate for the average guy and state that they are all hotter than you can imagine. Some hot guys have absolutely incredible personalities and some average guys are complete douche bags. I’m just telling you that you must remember the ass factor…and never discuss this with someone who has become, in your opinion, the beneficiary of a reverse ass factor transformation. Having had my own existential experience with this, it doesn’t matter how complimentary you are trying to be when you say to someone, “I really didn’t think you were that pretty when we first met, but now that I know you, I think you are beautiful”, it’s just a bad idea. No matter what. At least in my world.

My point…for those of you who are single (including me), when some guy you are not physically attracted to asks you out, or when some girl, who is perhaps a bit homely, starts to show interest, until you get to know that person, don’t assume that you will never be attracted to him/her, because you never know until you try. And, as per how others perceive you, remember only good things can come from being a nice person. Even if you are hot enough that you don’t think you have to be nice, someone may think you hot to begin with, but someone can also always change her/his mind…because the law of the ass factor is eternal.

dear you…inspired by true movies

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If any of the trailers don’t show up, try refreshing the page. Apparently, they’re a little shy at times. Also, be warned (thanks Adriane for the comment), some of the trailers may give away a lot of the movie.

Dear Becoming Jane,

Whoever decided that a woman in her mid-thirties should look like an old maid on her death bed is an idiot. You were a great movie. Sad, but great. I loved so many things about you. But really, that last scene almost killed you. You just needed to fire whoever was calling the shots on Anne Hathaway’s makeup. I realize that Jane Austen didn’t have the many, many anti-aging methods now available, but really, there is no way she looked like that. I mean, her sister-in-law was older than she was and didn’t look so old. Were you trying to send a message that married people age better than single people? Were you trying to make me dread my thirties? Help me understand what you would allow such a travesty to happen.

With much sadness and fear for my future,

Chloe

Dear mother who thought bringing her 1-year-old to see Bourne Supremacy in the theater was a good idea,

Why would you ever think that was a good idea? First, it’s totally inconsiderate. If you can’t find a babysitter, don’t go to the movie. Or go see Shrek 3. Or wait until you can find a sitter. Or wait until the movie comes out of video.

If it was only for my comfort, I would not be writing this letter. However, that is not my only concern, nor is it my greatest. I don’t know if you realize this, but the decibel level in movie theaters can and will seriously damage your poor child’s ears. It’s one thing for us, as adults, to subject ourselves to the ear-damaging sound in the theater, it is quite another to inflict it on an infant. Especially since infants’ ears are so much more sensitive, and thus, more easily damaged.

My final concern is similar to the second. Do you really want to expose your baby to all of that violence as a baby? I mean, really. Do you think just because your baby can’t talk that he can’t be damaged by all of it?

I realize that I don’t have children and so, may not understand how hard it is to forgo my desires for my baby’s health and well-being. But I’m pretty sure that I will think about those things before getting myself pregnant. Maybe you should have, as well.

With much concern,

A single girl who wonders why you get to be a mother right now and she doesn’t

Dear High School Musical 2,

While I fully expected cheese and was very entertained by it, and you have provided me with a fantastic new “breakup song”, I do have limits and those limits start with fake shooting stars, followed closely by singing reflections in a pond, and end with lanterns that mysteriously float away, when nothing about the movie contains any other “magic”. Oh, and I can’t neglect to mention the fireworks. Seriously, you need to fire your special effects people if that’s what they are producing. Or your writers, if that’s what they wrote into the script. Or whoever made the decision not leave those bits of film on the cutting room floor.

With much embarrassment (for you and me),

A closet fan

Dear Hairspray,

Thank you! I love you! I wasn’t sure what I thought about John Travolta, but he was divine, as were all of the other actors. I even liked Amanda Bynes. All of it was amazing…okay, maybe the singing picture of Tracy was a bit much, but you’re a musical, so I guess it’s to be expected. Oh, and excellent choice with Christopher Walken. As Sarah put it, “he’s hilarious and terrifying all at the same time.” I can’t say enough about you. You are a new favorite. Okay, so maybe I wouldn’t have chosen Michelle Pfeiffer. I mean, she’s kind of fake looking and really, her singing voice is not my favorite. And even that’s forgivable. I mean, the audience is supposed to hate her, and I did. You are really and truly brilliant. Perfectly delightful!

With much love,

A huge fan (not huge like Edna Turnblad, but huge in the sense that I really love you and sing your praises)

Dear Stardust,

Thank you for being such a perfect movie. You have everything, laughter, adventure and romance. You will be the next DVD I purchase now that I have a budget. You are The Princess Bride for my generation. Okay, so The Princess Bride was The Princess Bride for my generation. But you are fantastic just the same.

I do have to say that I am truly grateful that the first time I saw you there were no crazy hyenas in the audience. I wonder if that woman knew she sounded like a crazy fool. Hmm? Anyway, even with the loud and inappropriately timed laughter, I liked you even more the second time. Robert De Niro was perfect for his role. And that Charlie Cox…delicious!

With many smiles,

A huge fan of the truly romantic comedy

a girl and her mom

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I wasn’t going to write about the series finale of Gilmore Girls because I feel like a bit of a fraud. I didn’t follow the Gilmores from the start. I only started watching last summer (I love t.v. on DVD), although I have watched every episode, except for a select few from this season. I guess what I’m saying is that I have not been through seven years of Gilmore. I have only been through one.

But as I was reflecting on it last night and this morning, wondering just why I got so emotional last night (although, I cry at Hallmark cards, so it shouldn’t surprise me), I realized that, not only is it Lorelai and Rory’s relationship that rips at my heartstrings, but that the first six seasons of Gilmore (watched over the course of about two months) are what got me through one of the hardest, possibly the hardest, time in my life. Watching those endless, commercial free hours gave me something to look forward to each day during a time when life seemed very, very bleak.

I think that’s a large part of what I was feeling last night. It has now been almost a year since I called off my wedding. I have moved on. I have had closure. I don’t dread getting out of bed each day. I’ve gone on dates. I have a great life. But my relationship with the Gilmores is what got me out of bed sometimes and helped to get all the tears out that I needed to cry. So, yesterday, while watching the show, it was like enjoying those last few moments with a dear friend, one who understands you perfectly, and then having to say goodbye…forever. And watching Lorelai and Rory part made me really miss my mom. And now I’m going to end this post before I start to cry…again. Yes, I am truly pathetic sometimes.

A little love from the Gilmores:
Lorelai: Ah, things happen for a reason.
Rory: Since when is that your philosophy?
Lorelai: Since now. By the way, I’m also a communist.
Rory: Really?
Lorelai: Yes, ’cause I look damn good in red.

P.S. Erika, I hope you appreciate that I’ve enjoyed every t.v. show you’ve ever recommended…except maybe Lois and Clark.