Yesterday, my beloved aunt bemoaned the fact that I do not blog about the topics she suggests. This is untrue. Writing about that one time when I saw Anna Wintour at Bloomingdales was totally her idea. However, because I am like, the most thoughtful niece there is, today I am going to blog my thoughts on every single one of her suggested topics.
Let my opining commence!
Topic: Ryan Gosling
Topic: Bob Newhart
I’m not sure when I started liking Bob Newhart. I think I’ve always liked Bob Newhart. Here is a photo of me in 2003, posing with a bust of Bob Newhart at Disney World:
Though I have enjoyed all of Mr. Newharts performances, I especially enjoyed watching Newhart reruns as a child. And Joanna > Emily (yeah, I said it). But Bob Newhart > everyone.
Also, fun fact: Bob Newhart did not learn how to drive a car until he was like, 30. I know, because I read it in his memoir.
BOB NEWHART: FUCK YEAH.
Topic: Vanna White
For some reason, everyone in my immediate family like, really, really likes Vanna White. When I was eight, my parents named our mini van “Vanna Blue” (spoiler alert!… the van was blue). I mean, I guess it makes sense. Wheel of Fortune was/is on six days a week, and when I was a kid, as long as we were home, we always watched it. Vanna was like a member of the family. I really did love her super-sweet sequined dresses when I was little, and can still hear my mother exclaiming “Come on; let’s go see what dress Vanna is wearing tonight!” I also remember dressing up as Vanna and pretending to turn letters when I was about three years old. This involved wrapping a long black scarf around my entire body and pretending that it was a floor length strapless gown. This was also the “dress” I would wear when I pretended to be Gypsy Rose Lee.
ALSO: There is this TV movie from 1988 called Goddess of Love. Since 1989, it has been my family’s tradition to watch it every New Year’s Eve. It’s basically the greatest cinematic masterpiece of our time. Vanna White is Afrodite (the aforementioned Goddess of Love), and she’s hanging around in 1988, BECAUSE MAGIC, trying to win the heart of a guy named Ted. TED. I think we can all agree that “Ted” is the most 1988 name there ever was…and this guy, he is the most Ted-like Ted you will ever see. BUT HERE IS THE BEST PART: THERE IS A SHOPPING SPREE MONTAGE!!!!!! OH! And also Little Richard is in it. He plays an eccentric hair dresser. Obviously, you need to head on over to Amazon.com right now, and cough up 99 cents for a used DVD.
Not really a fan. They make dogs freak the fuck out, and they sound like gun shots, which is, like really traumatic for a lot of people. Plus, in Michigan, as soon as it stops snowing, people start shooting them off EVERY SINGLE NIGHT. AND IT IS ANNOYING AS FUCK. Like, you’re lying in bed, and all of a sudden: POW!!! POW!!! POW!!! and you’re like, “OK, that is probably fireworks. There is probably NOT a gun fight happening in my backyard right now. Right. Right???!!! And then the dogs start barking. And then there is no sleep to be had. Until October.
Now professional fireworks displays…those are OK I guess…to look at, I mean, they’re sort of pretty. And I am sort of a sucker for the theme park firework shows…because really, who doesn’t appreciate a chemical explosions of “WILL YOU MARRY ME, AMBER?” lighting up the night sky? But despite the kitsch factor, fireworks are pretty bad for the environment. So maybe we could pick a new, less destructive national tradition. Like Kitten videos, broadcast on ginormous outdoor screens.
When I first saw this suggestion, I thought of Bubbles the Powerpuff Girl. Then second, I thought of Bubbles the chimp. So which is it, Powerpuff Girl, or chimp?
Topic: State Capitols
I live in Oregon. Our capitol is Salem. I have never been there.
Like most kids, I memorized my state capitols in elementary school, so my brain was set to “Salem=Oregon.” So natch, I assumed the Salem witch trials took place in Oregon. I thought this for a really long time, actually. Until I was like, twelve.
Topic: Road trips
I love road trips! …and I actually JUST realized that I have not left the state of Oregon for almost a year and a half. This is the longest I’ve physically been in one state since I was eight years old. When I was a kid, my mom used to tell me I had “wanderlust,” (not the festival, the thing). This is true. This is why I love road trips.
DEAR GOD, I NEED TO CROSS A STATE LINE, LIKE, NOW.
….Next time I need to run an errand, I am going to run it in Vancouver. ROAD TRIP TO VANCOUVER. (Bus trip? Train trip? HOW THE FUCK DO YOU GET TO VANCOUVER???!!!)
Topic: Facial Hair
1. Last year, I posed something on Facebook about goatees being douchebaggy. And I feel really bad about this. I feel bad, because I realize that I know a lot of non-douchebaggy guys with goattees, and really, their goattees are quite becoming. So I apologize I allowed the douchebaggery of a few lone jerk-faces cloud my perception of an entire style of facial hair. Forgive me, gotteed friends.
2. My dad grew an ironic mustache in 1994. He also played Dungeons and Dragons, had a super-impressive comic book collection (ORGANIZED IN BINDERS!!!) knew everything there is to know about Stark Trek AND Star Wars, regularly watched documentaries narrated by Carl Sagan, and would often quote “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.” This means that in 1994, my dad was the coolest person in 2013.
Topic: Fortune Cookies
WHY DO THEY CALL THEM FORTUNE COOKIES IF THEY RARELY HAVE ACTUAL FORTUNES INSIDE?
I haven’t had a fortune cookie in a while, on account of they are made of wheat flour, and gluten makes my internal organs explode, but it seems, that unlike the fortune cookies of yore, the contemporary cookie offers either good advice (“Failure is the chance to do better next time”), or compliments (“You are bright and attractive”), but never FORTUNES. A fortune is a prediction. A prophecy. It needs to describe an actual thing that is going to happen to you; “Bob Newhart will accompany you on a road trip to Vancouver, where he will officiate your wedding to Ryan Gosling.” That is a fortune, “You have lovely cuticles” is not a fortune.
WTF, stale shallaced cookie? WTF.
When I was ten, I dressed up as Cleopatra for Halloween. I found a costume, like, at K-mart or someplace. It was a gold sequined number, with a gold headband, and some gold and purple “Egyptian style” accessories. I then informed my mother, that if I were to authentically portray the last pharaoh of ancient Egypt, I TOTALLY had to have straight, black, Liz Taylor hair. Obviously, I needed to dye my hair. It was the only solution. My mother was sympathetic to my plight, and informed me that we would look for a straight black wig, but if we couldn’t find one, she would let me get some spray-on hair dye.
MY PLAN WAS WORKING, I WAS SO CLOSE TO BEING ABLE TO DYE MY HAIR. I WOULD BE THE ENVY OF THE FIFTH GRADE. But then we found a straight black wig with Liz Taylor bangs. Because of course we did, because it was Halloween.