Sunshine on my shoulder makes me happy

Morning, friends! (Or afternoon, I s'pose since most of you live in not-Calfornia.)

We're mixing things up a bit this week (but not permanently, don't worry) regarding posts and orders and such mostly because I still can't seem to remember what day I'm supposed to write and what I'm supposed to write about.

We're going to being telling you what to do. Some people refer to this as "advice." You ask us questions, we answer. We're still working out the details, but for now you guys starting asking away. Ways you can ask:

1) Leave a comment
2) Send us an email if you'd like to remain anonymous (canardcollective@gmail.com)
3) Hit up my very new @dearschilbo Twitter account for instant answers in 140 characters

We promise to point you in the right direction (or at least point and laugh.) (Just kidding. We'll be nice.)

Phone it in Friday: love me, love me, say that you love me

Dear Internets, did you know that it snowed in Ohio today? SNOWED! Winter is supposed to be over! This is because Mother Nature is bipolar, I just know it.

Anyway! What melts your heart, you guys? What melts it like I wish the snow would melt?

It's like a dry heave set to music

I had a surprisingly difficult time coming up with this list, especially considering the number of times I say, "my heart is melting!" on any given day. Usually puppies or other baby animals are involved.

1. Cats helping

Phoebe likes to help you write stuff. And by help, I mean she bats the pen around until you take it away from her IT'S SO CUTE.

Also, when Phoebe lies upside down:

2. When dogs do this:

They're all like, "WHAT YOU SAY?"

See also: The Daily Puppy

3. Musical montages

On TV. In movies. Doesn't matter. Sometimes when I'm listening to my iPod, I pretend I'm in my own musical montage. SHUT UP.

4. TV show weddings

There's nothing I love more than when two of my favorite characters get married. Even though it usually (OK, always) makes me cry like a tiny baby girl.

5. TV show theme songs from my childhood

Go look at this list. Seriously, look at it. It's called 35 TV Openers That Make Us Feel Like Kids Again. I know you're skeptical. I was skeptical, too. But as soon as THIS:



started playing, BOOM I was right back in the basement of my parents house on a Saturday morning, lying on my stomach on the floor, too close to the TV so my neck was bent all the way back so I could see. It's like free time travel, that is.

6. People dancing badly

I think it's because I suck at dancing. These are my people.



7. Little kids who like to read

There's a little girl in my group at volunteering and she is always bringing books in with her. She LOVES to read. I love it when little kids want to read instead of watch TV or hit each other with sticks or something. I also love it when they want to read you the book. Especially if they're not really reading the words, but telling you what's happening based on the pictures. SO CUTE. My heart melts and then the rest of me melts into a big puddle on the floor and it's messy because no one can clean it up because of the rules at volunteering is "if it's wet and not yours, don't touch it." True story. They LOVE that rule. Because it's hilarious. They also have been talking a lot about poop and tooting so it's good to know I'm having an influence on them.

This tornado loves you.

Oh the many things one could do to set my heart aflutter are well documented indeed. Being a boy and wearing perfectly fitting pants (no pleats, neither too tight nor too baggy, inseams anything but too short). Keeping paperbacks in back pockets. Being the lead singer of The National. But this list is by no means exhaustive; I am not a fighter but a lover after all. Here are a few more:

Own a Kitty!

I do love dogs but after spending Sunday with two rambunctious pups my temperament I confirmed is far more suited to felines. And I think we can all agree that this



suits me well. And if it suits you just as well then we are well suited indeed.

Eat Breakfast Cereal!

Oh my God, you guys, cereal is my favorite food in all the wide world. Special K, Honey Bunches of Oats, Rice Krispies (especially with sliced bananas), Frosted Mini Wheats, Cap'n Crunch . . . if you talk cereal with me I will fall in love with you forever. And ever.

Join Me for a Martini or Three!

Grey Goose. Dry. Up. With olives. Bonus points if they're blue cheese-stuffed.



Let Me Cook for You

My mother used to cook for the entire town of Jensen Beach (and parts of Stuart and Port St. Lucie) and it's one of her habits I've happily inherited. But I don't get to do it nearly enough. So come over for dinner! I even bake my own bread!



Don't Make Fun of Me When My Bracket Is Busted on the Second Day of the Tournament.

Stupid fucking Georgetown. Hoya SUXA.

Endearing things.

People with weird food habits.

I have some seriously bizarre food situations in my life. Like, let's talk about pickles. I love pickles. But I cannot abide pickle seeds; they gross me right the heck out. I prefer baby dills because they are completely seedless, but if it's hamburger chips I need, I'll get the smallest ones from the jar 'cause they came from toddler cucumbers soaked in evil, so: no seeds yet. If someone gives me a pickle spear, I just cut the seeds out of it, and if someone gives me one of those huge fat concession stand dill pickles, I just eat the outside like corn on the cob.

I will only eat french fries if they have ketchup on them and I will only eat cheeseburgers if they don't have ketchup on them, but I can only eat french fries if I dip one fry at time in the ketchup. Usually, I just tear the top off a package and dip them down in there one-by-one. Also, I will only eat ketchup if it's room temperature. Sometimes I have to microwave it. Cold ketchup is the Devil's condiment.

Oh, and ice. I love ice. Ask Abigail, who told me at Chipotle one time to go back and fix her drink with the amount of ice a normal person would put in a cup. But I only like restaurant ice. I'll use home freezer ice if I have to, but only in lemonade or something, never in soda.

So, I like people with weird food things because it makes me feel less alone.

Pet people.

I'm with Schilbo on this one. I literally never get tired of pictures of pets and stories about pets. If you've got a cute kid, I'm like, "Hey, cute kid." But if you've got a pet and you let that pet snoozle you and cuddle you and lick you on the noggin, I'm like, "Awwwwwww!" And then we can be friends forever and ever.

Midnight movie people.

Midnight movie people are my people. They're folks who actually cannot wait an extra 11 hours to see a movie, you know? And they just love the excitement of being in a crowd of people who love a thing the same way they love a thing. And a lot of times people dress up like in wizard costumes and stuff. And they laugh at all the best parts and gasp at all the best parts and when Harry kissed Cho that one time, there were some catcalls.

Remember that couple of years when there was like a new Potter book and/or movie coming out every nine months? Man, those were good times. I remember my dad scoffing at me back then and I was like, "Dad, everyone should have at least one thing they're willing to sleep outside all night for!"

And I still believe it.

TV recap people.

Let me just point to Ashley for this one. Ashley has endeared herself to me for all eternity because of her way about TV. I love people who read TV recaps and write TV recaps and rehash all of everything about TV shows. I'm not talking about mindless channel flipping here (which is fine, of course); I'm talking about TV as a subject! The very best subject!

People who think I'm awesome because they love me, not the other way around.

The thing about writing on the Internet for a living is that you're up for critique by the whole world every single day, and the more places you write, the more open you are for judgment. It's enough to turn a person into a mental basket or a megalomaniac, depending on the day. It reminds me of when I used to play basketball, actually. Like, strangers and stuff wanting to be your bestie or kiss your ass just because you've got a nice cross-over or jumpshot. And I mean, it always feels good when someone tells you you're great. "You do this one thing awesomely, I love you."

But you know what's better? When someone loves you first and then thinks you're great. "I love you -- oh, and that thing you wrote/said/designed was pretty cool too." My great-grandmother Annie B. Cox used to frame the artwork I brought home from school, and it was shit. I always used to look at it hanging on the wall and think, "That's the fugliest pumpkin I've ever seen. She must not love it because it's good; she must love it because it's mine."

That's good to know, you know? It's freeing.

People who quote movies.

You're the best goddamn dancer in the American Ballet Academy. Who the hell am I? I'm your new best friend, is what.

People who are Collective people.

I love you guys.

When someone does something that makes you want to pinch his cheeks or become her best friend, that's the opposite of a pet peeve and that's our topic this week.

1. Old people referring to the internet.
Tweeter, Facespace, the net, the web, on the line. It's so cute!

2. Flattering me in any way.
Seriously, keep it coming. Can't get enough.

3. Stories about animals.
I might not want to hear what you dreamed last night, or a recap of the TV show I don't watch, but I want to hear all about your pets. Wittle stories about your kitties and that funny thing your doggy did! Tell me! Tell me!

4. Weather in Southern California.
I will not apologize for 70-degree year-round weather. It's the best thing.


5. Play FarmVille.
When I'm in a crowded grocery store and I inevitably here people talking about the greatest game ever played, I have to stop myself from inserting myself into the conversation. If you're talking strategy, I maybe can't help it and bam, new friend!

6. Taylor Swift.

Phone it in Friday: Pet Peeves

Please to be telling us your pet peeves. We don't want to accidentally peeve you off.

blerg

1. Bra shopping

I started wearing a bra in 4th grade. How old are you in 4th grade, like 9? This means I've been bra shopping for almost TWENTY YEARS. That's a long time. My boobs are almost old enough to buy their own booze. That's old. Bra shopping is my least favorite kind of shopping, and do you want to know why? Because no two bra brands make their sizes the same. One line's 34 DD is another line's 36 C. I hate them all. HATE THEM. But I can't just NOT wear a bra because that would be obscene or something.

Sidenote: I had to start wearing a training bra before like, anyone in my class. In the mornings, my mom wouldn't let me leave the house without my training bra on so I'd begrudgingly put it on and then as soon as I got to school, I'd go to the bathroom and take it off and stuff it in my bag. This is weird, because other girls my age were wishing for boobs. There are books written about girls wishing for boobs (along with their periods) but I wasn't that girl, I was totally Christina Ricci from Now and Then, all taping her boobs down and stuff, only I didn't grow up to be Rosie O'Donnell:



Sidesidenote: Why the hell is it called a training bra? Were my boobs training for something I'm not aware of? Are they secret Olympic athletes or something? Because if so, I haven't seen a dime of any endorsement money.

Sidesidesidenote: Dude, you guys, I totally loved Now and Then when I was a kid. I even had the soundtrack and I listened to it ALL THE TIME.

2. Irregardless

Don't say this. I will punch you if you say this.

3. Loud-talkers (at work, mostly)

SHUT UP I HATE YOU. No one cares about your thoughts on all the snow/last night's sporting event/that nice Ryan Seacrest.

4. Unsolicited Advice

You know what? If someone is telling you a story, any story, about moving or their wedding or their kids or ANYTHING, and you open your mouth to say something similar to this: "you know what you should do?"

...well, then you should probably shut up immediately because people hate that.

Stay awake to break the habit.

I am highly strung on the best of days, peevish, solitary as an oyster. And like all good misanthropes the things I hate most in others are the things I see reflected in me, my worst faults, my shiniest black pearls. I'm trying to be better. I'm trying to quit complaining. I'm trying to stop being so self-centered. It's not easy.

This isn't going anywhere that's not going to get me into a whole lot of trouble at home and abroad, so how about we all look at a picture of Winston instead:

Pet Peeves

Giving you a comprehensive list of my pet peeves would make you realize that I'm the terrible Mr. Darcy from the beginning of P&P rather than the Lorelai Gilmore-knows-what-she-wants I wish I could be. So, I'm limiting my list in hopes I'm the latter and not the former. Also,


Children Singing
This is never cute. I think sometimes it can be technically impressive, like those boy choirs that are famous, but I mean your kids singing in church or how it's so funny this video where this kid sings Beyonce or any commercial like the Toys R Us one with all the SINGING! This is not cute. It is annoying. It hurts my face. Take your child away please.

Glee
I fucking hate this show. I believe that everyone is entitled to their opinions and that some people find it tolerable. But the obsession? I do not understand how I, a discerning TV-watcher, could be so out of touch with the rest of the world. Every time I go on Facebook someone is yelling about how AWESOME Glee is. The show isn't even on right now and my feed is lit up like a switchboard. "I can't wait for it to come back!" "I wish the tour was coming to Indy!" "Sometimes, I find myself wondering what the characters are doing, like right now." People, this show, this something-is-seriously-wrong with it show, is not worth your wondering. Yes, the songs are fun (partially because they're sung by adults and not BABIES) and yes, we all love a good wheelchair dancing storyline (dancing babies = also not cute, not even the ones on SYTYCD) but UGH. The writing is terrible. The characters are all lame, annoying, lame and annoying, immature, one dimensional, or just plain stupid. GAH! Gossip Girl has better story lines, love triangles, and high school drama and it's on The CW! All this to say, please shut up about Glee. Talk about LOST instead. That's a show I don't watch, but understand to be great and necessary to talk about and think about all the time. Write your Facebook statuses about that.



I'm going to stop there, because if I get into what happened at McDonald's today (hint: I was told the Shamrock Shake promotion was over even though, OH YEAH, St. Patrick's Day is three days away) I won't be able to concentrate on work today. Instead, let's look at this cute picture of me and Maddie and think happy thoughts. Lorelai, guys, I'm Lorelai. Just a little quirky.

Phone it in Friday: I love my dead, gay son! edition

Hi, Internets. It's been a while since we've done this, but we hope you remember how. It's like riding a bike or something. Probably. Anyway.

Tell us! What makes you proud?

We are the music makers. We are the dreamers of dreams.

So proud:

1. Falling Slowly

I watched Once the other night and didn't cry. THIS IS A BIG DEAL.

2. Ring of Fire

We went to a karaoke bar the other night and I sang TWO SONGS, undrunk even! Because of my crippling stage fright, the only times I've ever actually participated in karaoke fun was with the help of much alcohol, so this was a big step. I sang Ring of Fire (obviously) and Ice, Ice Baby (um, OBVIOUSLY) and it was super awesome even though Joe totally stole the show when he sang Wind Beneath My Wings. Then some really drunk guys tried to sing some Godsmack and it was awkward.

3. Superfreak

I didn't freak out at the doctor earlier this week, which is also a big deal, not because the doctor gave me anything to really freak out about but because FREAKING OUT is like my natural state of being and it doesn't take much to bump it up a notch.

4. Insane in the Membrane

The other day, I was pouring some cereal and I had just opened the box and then this happened:

Me: Check this out, this box is messed up.
Joe: What's wrong with it?
Me: Well, you know how it has the little slot thingie that the tab thingie goes into?
Joe: Yes.
Me: The tab thingie wasn't cut out of the rest of the box! The tab won't go in the slot! My cereal will get stale! No, wait, I'll use a chip clip.
Joe: That's so weird, let me see.
Me: Here.
Joe: ...
Me: ...
Joe: Jennie. You opened the box upside down.
Me: Oh. Oops.
Joe: Wow. Oh my god. WOW.
Me: Should I not mention that this has happened before?

I'm not really proud of the fact that I opened a box of cereal upside down and DIDN'T NOTICE, but I am proud of how it totally ups my absent-minded-professor vibe.

Plop, plop, fizz, fizz.

I have the flu real bad. Consequently, I'm not so good at anything right now.

Bitches get stuff done.

Back during Worst. Day. Ever. Year ^TM (2007), my therapist said out loud to me, "You need to learn how to be a bitch," which doesn't really sound like solid advice coming from a certified professional, and it also doesn't sound like something I am capable of accomplishing because perpetually mean-spirited people are not my favorite. (They hurt my heart and head.) But good ol' Dr. P said there are lots of kinds of bitches, and that being empathetic and forgiving and nice and stuff is all fine and good, but do you want to get blasted off the top of an Astronomy tower, or what? And no, I didn't. And no, I still don't.

Yesterday Daily Intel reported that there are 90 kinds of bitches, which they found out from a list made by a third grader.

I don't think I can brag about most things in my life because every good thing I have (or am) has pretty much fallen into my lap. But the bitch thing? Well, I've worked really, really hard at it. And I think I'd like to brag about that.

According to the list, I'm a 20, 26, 37, 59, 61, 69 and an 88. If 76 says "geeky bitches," I'm that too. I thought 34 said "Wikipedia bitches," which I totally am, but it says "whipped."

Eight out of 90 is not too shabby. I actually might be more than eight, but I'm also one of those "haven't studied my slang flash cards bitches" so I can't say for sure.

A Few Things I'm Proud Of

There are few things I'm really proud of, or at least few things I'm proud and also not ashamed of at the same time. I'm going to tell you about two of them. These just might fall into the latter category, but I got nothing else to share. My battles won are small ones.


1.

These are my FarmVille mastery signs. I don't know if it makes a difference to you non-players what this means, but let's just say that I'm really, really good. These signs prove it.

2.
A couple of years ago, our local cable provider decided to double rates. Actually, it was doubled, plus another $10. We weren't really on board with an increase from $45 to $100 and so after I called the company and tried to convince them to lower the rates, we canceled that plan and moved to satellite. We got a great deal with satellite except the DVR that came with it was considered a piece of crap according to the DVR forums (do you guys not go to the DVR forums? Forums are maybe the best thing about the internet).

So I emailed a few of the DVR experts from the forums to get their advice on a DVR unit that went with our satellite package. The recommended a unit that is is no longer offered by the company, but I could get used. I did a Craigslist search and found someone selling a barely used one for basically free and bought it up quick. I'm already feeling impressed with myself and I haven't even gotten to the bad ass part yet.

For various reasons involving the difference between the crappy DVR box we didn't get and the awesome one we did, we needed an additional cable running from the box to the dish. The dish is at the back of our house. The box is at the front of our house. According to my round-the-house-walk-about, the cable went under the house and then up through a drilled hole in the floor under the box.

So I called up my friend Amanda who has a drill and also some confidence and asked her to come over and help me do something bad ass. Then I put on my least favorite jeans, a huge giant sweatshirt with the hood up and my headlamp holding it in place, and got ready to go under the space under my house. I crawled in, Amanda handed me the cable and then I slithered like a SNAKE the entire length of our house. In the dirt. Under our house. When I got to the other side, she drilled the hole a bit bigger and I handed her the cable. Then I slithered AGAIN back to the opening and pulled myself through it. Then I took a shower.

When all was said and done the installation was totally and one hundred percent successful. Plus, I was just doing it so we could have a better DVR but it also ended up saving us money. Bonus! I am pretty sure that I moved to a new, giant house I could wire the satellite to all the rooms BY MYSELF.

Because I am awesome. The end.

When you read a book as a child, it becomes a part of your identity in a way that no other reading in your whole life does.

I don't remember the first book I ever read. Hell, I can barely remember the LAST book I read. And yet, if I have my choice of free-time time-wasters, I'm always going to choose books. I spent most of my childhood with (a dreamy far-off look and) my nose stuck in a book, when I wasn't busy watching Fraggle Rock or mainlining Disney movies.

I don't remember learning to read, but I do remember the feeling that came with it. That heady power, like I was being let in on some great, cosmic secret. And the books! They're everywhere! You can just go to the library and they'll GIVE YOU THEM FOR FREE! There's something special about picking up an unread book. Countless possibilities lie before you, anything could happen, and you never have to leave the comfort of your sofa, which is good for someone as hermit-like as I am. I've time-traveled, space-traveled, sleigh-traveled, and hippogriff-traveled all over this world and others, and not once have I had to change out of my pajamas.

It's a strange thing, that someone hundreds of miles or hundreds of years away can put words on a page for so many others to read, and those words can conjure up pure magic. Why does anyone read? I would argue that it's for the same reason anyone writes -- to escape, to understand, to break down the answers to life, the universe, and everything into smaller, easier to swallow pieces, much more fit for human consumption than the big unanswerable questions. Reading is learning, I think, and if that's the case, I've been studying my entire life for an exam that may not even exist.

That's not to say these reading lessons haven't been beneficial. I learned about the power of believing from The Polar Express and that old stories could be made new again from The True Story of The Three Little Pigs. I learned that living in a chocolate factory would be freaking awesome (something I'd always suspected) and that Ramona Quimby and my little sister might be the same person. I learned that magic and Muggles were real and that I'd found my compatriots in Jo March and Elizabeth Bennet. A Wrinkle in Time taught me that a book can make your heart stop with wonder, and break it just as easily. Books have done my heart more damage than any boy ever did. I cried buckets along with the March family when Beth died, Bridge to Terabithia stayed with me for days, I cried (in class!) when I finished The Giver, and when I read The Diary of Anne Frank for the first time, my heart just burst right open and I don't think it ever fully healed.

Books have been teaching me all my life, without me even noticing. The most important lesson I ever learned about writing was thanks to books, and yet I didn't know it until I was 19. I learned it during a conference with one of my professors, a professor I very much admired and wanted to impress. We were talking about a paper I'd written for class, a piece of creative non-fiction about swimming with stingrays, the first piece of creative non-fiction I'd ever written. I was just a freshman, all sweaty palms and nervous laughter while he poured over my paper. I tapped my index finger on my leg until he finally, FINALLY, looked up.

"You read a lot," he said, and I nodded. "That's how you become a good writer, you read a lot."

I was giddy at the thought of him thinking I was a good writer, or that I at least COULD be a good writer, and all because of books. I was thrilled to discover, as I'd suspected all along, that the exam really did exist, and best of all, I'd passed.

Still. I'm pretty sure that was only the midterm, so I'm still studying for the final.

I am trying to break your heart.

On Monday night my boyfriend of one hundred and thirteen months asked me to marry him. Twice. And I refused. Twice.

To understand this potentially perplexing response, I suggest you listen to the following albums in their entirety:

Out of Time, R.E.M.
Siamese Dream, Smashing Pumpkins
No Need to Argue, The Cranberries
Black Love, The Afghan Whigs
Dulcinea, Toad the Wet Sprocket
Dummy, Portishead
The Masterplan, Oasis
Urban Hymns, The Verve
Pinkerton, Weezer
Escapology, Robbie Williams
Heartbreaker, Ryan Adams
Twilight as Sung by, The Twilight Singers
Fear of Fours, Lamb
Kid A, Radiohead
I'm Wide Awake, It's Morning, Bright Eyes
Set Yourself on Fire, Stars
Get Lonely, The Mountain Goats
Boxer, The National
For Emma, Forever Ago, Bon Iver
Midnight Organ Fight, Frightened Rabbit

I don't really have anything else to say for myself.

Things I Learned From Television

1) There are other people like me in the world.

I actually learned this form the Internet, probably, but what I mean is that I feel a lot of feelings about TV, and I feel less alone knowing that other people feel those feelings too. It goes without saying at this point that fictional characters don't feel fictional to me, so I like to talk about their choices and compare them to other choices they made in previous episodes and talk about their emotions and their relationships. Yesterday, Schilbo and I debriefed Monday's Chuck for like two hours. I hope one day me and Ashley can do that about Caprica and BSG.

2) DVDs are magic.

You guys, what did we do before TV on DVD? It is my favorite thing in this or any other life. You can watch every show you ever missed, commercial-free, back-to-back-to-back. I gorged myself on Veronica Mars over Christmas and it was some of the best days of my life.

3) Shipping is a sport.

The first TV show I ever loved was Lois and Clark, and I mean, I loved it. I've said this before, too, but when I was a teenager, I wouldn't take calls between 8:00 and 9:00 on Sunday nights, and to this very day, Amy still gives me shit about it. (But that's only because she didn't know Booth and Brennan back then, so she didn't understand.) I wanted Lois and Clark to get together so badly, almost more than I ever wanted anything in my whole life! I shouted at the TV, I paced, I worried, I made up elaborate scenes in my head. If fan fiction and forums were the same in 1993 as they are today, I would never have graduated from high school. Sarah & Chuck. Booth & Brennan. Emily & Naomi. Luke & Lorelai. Lois & Clark. Josh & Donna. Jim & Pam. Bette & Tina. Veronica & Logan. Helen & Nikki. Ross & Rachel. So much angst! So much love!

A couple of years ago, I was at this really crazy place in my life where I couldn't get anything done because of all the shit and deadlines everywhere, and me and Kat and Jennie and Abs were texting about TV one night, and Jennie and Kat said I should watch Lost. And I said, "Is there epic love in it?" And immediately, Abs texted and said, "NO ONE ANSWER THAT!" Because if it was yes, I was a goner.

4) Never underestimate the power of seeing yourself reflected onscreen.

I won't say much about this because I spend half my life writing about it, but the thing is, if you're a little queer kid growing up in Appalachia, The L Word just might change your life.

5) Nothing is better than being a friend.





6) Except maybe living in Stars Hollow



Joe, we need to talk about this Dean/Rory/Jess thing.

Things I Learned From Movies

Today is Tuesday which is usually my day, me being Abigail. Monday is usually Heather's day, but as you'll notice, she didn't post yesterday. That is because Mondays have turned into a bad place for her life (feel sad for her) and she can't write the happy things she puts here. So. We are changing days. I will be on Monday and Heather will be on Tuesday and Kat on Wednesday and Jennie on Thursday. Probably for most of you that doesn't matter, but for the two other people like me who wake up and think "Kat" before thinking "Wednesday" this will take some getting used to. That new plan will start next week. This week we pushed the week back to start on Tuesday and also Heather and I switched which makes things very confusing. I'm going to stop talking now.



These Things I'm Feeling Right Now Were Probably Felt By Someone Else Before Me and Thankfully There Is A Shins Song To Listen To
I hear this makes me a cliche, but ahem, I was 20 when the movie came out--when I saw in three times in the theater--and things are pretty hard for 20 year olds. Especially ones like me. I was spending a lot of time feeling sorry for myself for being unlucky in love and having an asshole dad and generally feeling morose in the back of my decidedly unmorose personality. I'd link to some blog posts from the phase in my life, but they're a bit... disaffected. Garden State came along and let me feel my Feelings like nothing else had before. Lots of other movies are good at making me feel their feelings, but this one makes me feel my own. Even now, when I'm less awed by a swimming pool at night and an infinite abyss, I feel.

I still go to the website on occasion to listen to the streaming blips of the soundtrack and look at the foggy rainy photos. It's good, you guys, but maybe you had to be 20 then to feel that way.


Dancing Drama Is The Best Kind Of Drama
I think the video says it all.


Email Is Super Romantic
Since I'm sort of a writer, I like to think the emails I send about town are of a charming variety, the kind that woo smart, funny boys to my doorstop inbox. Tom Hanks taught me this. And so not a day goes by where I don't paint fanciful scenarios of the perfect tweet that brings my love to my window, or the digital romance that begins with a Foursquare ousting. I wanted it to be you, I wanted it to be you so badly.