Now, moving on.

Last night over dinner, my date and I played a little game that I love. It’s actually one of my most favorite games in the whole world.

Desert Island movies.

I know, it’s so simple. But it combines my two favorite pastimes- movies, and talking about movies. How can you go wrong with that?

Basically, you just go back and forth telling your favorite movies of all time and why. Sooo… errrmmm… maybe it’s not technically a game, but it turned out to be a really good ice-breaker. Plus, I’m much more inclined to like someone if they have good taste in film. What? Like you would date someone who claimed that “Wicker Man” (the remake) is actually a good film.

On my drive back home, I recounted the movies that I had said I wouldn’t be able to live without.

10. The Princess Bride

9. Back to the Future Trilogy (They all count as 1)

8. Anchorman

7. The Jerk

6. The Truman Show

5. High Fidelity

4. The Big Lebowski

3. Garden State

2. Big Fish

1. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

I realized though, that I hadn’t included any movies from my absolute favorite genre of film. The Musical.

I know that for most people, musicals are either take’em or leave’em. And for me? I’ve always took them. I was raised on Musicals. I’ve can recite every word to the soundtrack of Hair. I’ve seen Little Shop of Horrors more than most men have watched Pulp Fiction. And I’ve wanted to BE Kim McAfee in Bye Bye Birdie for as long as I can remember.

Today I felt a little nostalgic so I decided to download the Bye Bye Birdie soundtrack to listen to as I worked. At first it made me happy. I was singing along jovially at my desk to “One Last Kiss,” and “Put on a Happy Face.” But when “How Lovely to be a Woman” came on, my attitude turned cold.

I realized that I was raised on a lie. I mean, the lyrics to this happy-go-lucky anthem about womanhood are complete and utter bullshit. I can admit that yes, it’s a musical… it’s supposed to be schmaltzy. But this? Is going overboard. IT”S LIES!!!! At least when you apply it to my life.  Take a look.

When you’re a skinny child of fourteen,
Wide with braces from ear to ear,
You doubt that you will ever be appealing.

It starts off OK enough. I was never a skinny child, but since I did wear braces and have the self-esteem of a leprechaun, I can let that slide.

Then Hallelujah! You are fifteen
And the braces disappear
And your skin is smooth and clear
And you have that happy grown-up female feeling.

There was nothing about 15 that made me scream Hallelujah. Except for maybe the fact that I was so inept at algebra that my teacher suggested I be the theater director’s assistant instead of receiving another F in math. I did lose the braces but they were replaced with a painful retainer. My skin was definitely not smooth or clear. And I’m pretty sure that ‘happy grown up feeling”  she’s referring to is said in sarcasm and is referring to the wrath of having painful cramps, mood swings, and the task of wearing a big bulky diaper between your legs for a week out of every month.

How lovely to be a woman,
The wait was well worth while;
How lovely to wear mascara
And smile a woman’s smile.

First of all, in what world does being 15 constitute being a “woman”?  At the age of fifteen I couldn’t even drive myself to the movies, much less pay for my ticket. I may have had a few weeks in my life where wearing mascara seemed glamorous, but it was only a matter of time before I found out that if you put it on, you have to take it off or you’ll end up looking like a drug whore; and that’s a pain in the ass.

How lovely to have a figure,
That’s round instead of flat;
Whenever you hear boys whistle,
You’re what they’re whistling at.

Who wants a round figure? I mean I get that at fifteen the boys prone to say things like “If you didn’t have feet would you wear shoes? Then why do you wear a bra?” But round? No thank you. I think that’s one of the things that we women tend to avoid.

And umm. Guys who whistle are just creepy by any account. I’ve found that if a guy whistles at you, he’s either:

1. A construction worker

2. A yard man.

or 3. A creepy old man.

None of those are men who I want whistling at me.

It’s wonderful to feel
The way a woman feels;
It gives you such a glow just to know
You’re wearing lipstick and heels!

I would die a happy woman if I could avoid ever wearing heels again. The only glow they give me is the glow of pain.

How lovely to be a woman
And have one job to do;
To pick out a boy and train him
And then when you are through,
You’ve made him the man you want him to be!

Now this part I can get on board with. I would love to live in a society where it was my job to pick out a boy to be perfect little slave gentleman. I would make mine cook me eggs every morning and give me 3 hour massages every evening. He would hate football and like to iron. He would like to dance, have a nice reading voice, and laugh at everything that I say. I wouldn’t stop at one. I would be really, really good at my job and train about seven of them. I would never have to deal with dirty laundry or dishes again.

Life’s lovely when you’re a woman like me!
How wonderful to know
The things a woman knows;
How marvelous to wait for a date
In simply beautiful clothes!

I don’t know about most “women,” but I’m a freaking wreck before a date. I run through every possible scenario and we’ve already broken up 4 times in my head before we even sit down for dinner. Plus, I’m too poor to have beautiful anything right now. My clothes are all 3 sizes too big and completely out of style.

How lovely to be a woman
And change from boys to men,
To go to a fancy nightclub
And stay out after ten.
How lovely to be so grown-up and free!
Life’s lovely when you’re a woman like me!

I really don’t get this one at all. This song was supposed to be written about a girl who was living in the fifties. Were times that much better back then? I know when I was 15, I didn’t get to stay out after 10 unless I lied to my parents. I wasn’t allowed to even enter a nightclub, much less a fancy one. And boys were definitely still boys.

I don’t know. Maybe I’m just bitter because it’s a certain time of the month. I think I’ll go listen to The Sound of Music. There can’t possibly be anything ion that soundtrack that could piss me off.

Except maybe “16 going on 17.”

Musicals suck.

That being said, let’s do this shiz!

As Lilu always says: ***Alright, folks, you know the rules. Join us all in humiliating the crap out of yourself every Thursday by sharing some completely tasteless, wholly unclassy, “how many readers can I estrange THIS week??” TMI story about your life. Or hell, about someone else’s!

Make sure you check out Lilu’s site, and check out her TMI Thursday archives for all sorts of hilarity!
Due to the fact that I wrote a novel yesterday, I decided to settle for  video blogging, so I don’t have to make you read any more (but mostly because I didn’t feel like writing.) I’m not sure how many of these you have to do before you start feeling comfortable in front of the camera, but I’m still not there yet!

For the first, I present you with the top 10 things that really make me want to vomit.

[There is a video that cannot be displayed in this feed. Visit the blog entry to see the video.]

And even more embarrassing than a simple video blog, I present you with an extremely embarrassing video of me singing a parody that I wrote of “A Few of My Favorite Things,” called “My hated Things.” My boyfriend John Cusack probably won’t like me much after this one. Enjoy, and I’m sorry.

***This is fictitious, and I have not necessarily experienced all that I mention.

[There is a video that cannot be displayed in this feed. Visit the blog entry to see the video.]

And in case there are any of you that have stopped by that can’t watch the videos because you are at work or what not… I told one of my friends about the subject matter mentioned in my videos, and she sent me a picture of her boyfriend’s toenail. Nosir.com