Thank You (Now Get Out) – 7/27/10

Salve! My name is Gabriella Parker.  If you are rich, you may call me Riella.  If you are rich, between the ages of eighteen and twenty-four, and a single male, you may call me Ri.  If you call me Gabby, I will kick you in whatever place I think will hurt you most.  Understood?  Good.   Amber decided that she had a headache, so I get to do the update tonight.  We Parkers believe that it is a sign of weakness to leave records of our thoughts and experiences- it shows a need for the material in order to survive.  But who am I to judge my creator?

Right, of course, Amber reminds me that I am not here to ramble to you. You should see her, curled up on the couch, drinking iced tea like she was the Queen of the World.  It’s almost shameful that she had reduced me to her blogging assistant.  Especially without compensating me!

I suppose I should just get this over with.  I’ll just copy out her notes.  I swear, she owes me a manicure after all this:  all this typing is doing horrendous things to my poor, perfect fingernails.

She says that I should say something witty about the good, bad, and the ugly people of the week. I’m going to skip that part.

I think this says Blueberries and Cream. Yes? She says yes. Her note after “Blueberries and Cream” is: I was having a bad day.  She gave me a hug and left me blueberries. I’m not fond of all the little seeds in blueberries, and I tend to avoid hugs, so that must be a bad one. Next-

Oh. Amber says I have to illustrate. Use my imagination. Also that Blueberries and Cream was an “angel”. She really used that word. What. A. Sap.

NEXT. Someone called “Captain Hook”. I don’t really understand that name, but okay.  Apparently Captain Hook tried to cut people in line and was yelling because she couldn’t stomach the idea of “I am working with someone, I will be with you in a minute.”  Hmm.  Anyways.  Moving on.

There is someone called Back From the Dead here, and I’m not really sure the purpose of the name, but Amber insists that I leave it be.  She says it has a special connotation to herself.  Apparently this zombie person spent a great deal of time complaining about things that are beyond our control such as the weather and how quickly a photocopier prints out a copy.  According to these notes, she expected to be monetarily compensated for the inconvenience of her own poor planning, as well as the levels of humidity and items she ruined herself.  The notes on this person are really rather difficult to read, they have been scribbled ferociously.  Apparently Amber was incredibly hurt by this zombie-woman’s behavior.  That’s nice.  Moving on.

Oh, lovely.  There is nothing more.

Well, then, since that is the case, I am going to dismiss myself and go take a nice long beauty nap.  One can never have enough beauty naps.  Mother dearest always said that napping is good for the skin, and goodness knows that my shining complexion needs constant maintenance or else I’ll just fall to pieces.

Arrivederci!
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Author’s Note: Riella is a character I used once on a Potter-verse-sort-of roleplaying forum.  I thought I’d try to spice things up a little bit by doing this week’s Thank You (Now Get Out) in a different voice.  I hope nobody hates it!
Much love,
Amber

To Infinity, and Beyond!

“When it all ends I’ll have old Buzz Lightyear to keep me company – For infinity and beyond.” ~ Tom Hanks as Woody in Toy Story 2.

Last night, I went with old friends to see Toy Story 3 at the drive-in.  I had such high expectations for the film: it scored incredibly high on Rotten Tomatoes and even some friends of mine who are extremely judgmental about movies came back from seeing it absolutely blown away.  Second sequel nothing, I was determined that the film was going to knock me right off my feet.

Guess what?  It did.  The Washington Post states Pixar as “a studio that can do no wrong” and I’m inclined to agree… at least mostly.  The only Pixar film that I wasn’t fond of was A Bug’s Life, and there was nothing wrong with it- I just didn’t like it.

There may be some minor spoilers to follow, so read at your own risk.  I’ll be careful not to ruin any bog plot twists for those who haven’t seen the movie, and are planning to.

It’s so amazing that fifteen years after the launch of Toy Story, Disney and Pixar have wrangled the entire original cast back together for not the first sequel, but the second.  The only notable exception to this is Jim Varney, who died barely a year after the release of Toy Story 2.  For those of you not familiar with actors’ names, Jim Varney voiced Slinky Dog.  Delightfully, in the third movie, Slink’s voice was wonderfully replicated by Blake Clark.  In fact, if you didn’t know any better, you’d think it was the same person.

There is so much that I can say about this movie; so many praises I can give it, but I’m going to limit it to some of my favorite aspects.  It’s really hard for me to write about this objectively, because I am very much still a child at heart and I love Disney movies- especially Disney Pixar.

• There was the potential in the Barbie/Ken relationship to go cheesy and predictable… but it didn’t.  At first, there are all the typical, wonderful cheesy moments that make us giggle and roll our eyes, but there’s depth there that I didn’t expect, at the least, and it was so exciting to see it.
• The last five minutes of the movie are absolutely heart-wrenching for anyone with a soul, who ever had toys, and who ever has been a kid, or has kids of their own.
• We meet a new character:  Bonnie.  She’s very sweet, and more than anything, reminds me of myself when I was young.  There’s a brief scene when she’s cuddled in bed with all of her toys, so many that there’s barely room for her.  That was definitely me as a child.
• The commercials do not even begin to explain the movie.  Believe me, Sunnyside is not-so-sunny.  I love Pixar commercials because they never do the movies justice.  I’m always so much more delighted after seeing the film.
• I really loved this one part in the movie, and if I say what part, it will be a huge spoiler, but it includes a lack of redemption and garbage and I totally thought it was going to be all over.  It is so, so hard not to spoil this, but it’s the biggest twist in the film.  Let’s just say, the biggest twist was brilliant.
• It was a perfect ending.  Very much a passing-of-the-torch ending from Andy to Bonnie, but I don’t think we can expect a Toy Story 4.  It’s sad in a way, knowing that these old friends (animated or not) who have been with us most our lives are going to be leaving us forever… except remaining in memory.  I was five-years-old (maybe six) when the first Toy Story came out, and I remember seeing it in theatres.
• Pixar movies are for more than entertainment.  They tell a story, teach a lesson.  The Toy Story movies have always been about loyalty and friendship.  You get to see a new level in Toy Story 3 between Andy and his mother, and it’s touching.

I can go into silly amounts of detail, like saying specific lines and such things, but what really made the movie come together was… everything.  The development of the characters, both new and old.  Toy Story 3 wasn’t a happy-go-lucky movie.  It wasn’t a sad movie either.  All in all, it was sweet, touching, and made me feel like a jerk for having all my old stuffed animals in storage in the basement.  I may just go home and dig out my Jessie doll.

Pixar has done it again.

Also:  For a little bit of fun, check out this page to see the Easter Eggs and shout outs thrown in the movie.  They’re a lot of fun!

Look at me, I’m Sandra Dee.

“A friend is someone who lets you have total freedom to be yourself.” ~ Jim Morrison.

Quick stylistic note:  I am going to try now to separate my “Photo of the Day” from a normal blog entry.  Just because I like to have relevant photos, I think, to the blog posts.  As awesome as the picture with my brother organising cards was, it wasn’t very relevant to cooking-baking.

Anyways.  Since the title of this blog entry (“Look at me, I’m Sandra Dee”) seems a bit peculiar and definitely flat out of a musical, I feel the need to justify it.  Yes, I know, one of Gibbs’ rules is “never explain yourself” but I’m going to anyway.  After all, Gibbs is unfortunately, in the end, just a fictional character.

The song in the musical makes pretty clear that Sandy, the main character is a Goody Two Shoes and that the other girls (or, at least, Rizzo) think she’s a little snobbish and “too clean”.  What’s sad?  If you look through the lyrics, the things that are mentioned are:  smoking, drinking, having sex/sleeping around, and swearing.  Rizzo disapproves of Sandy not doing these things.  First:  what a terrible image to send to youth!  Second, I’m pretty much like that.

I’m not going to lie, I’ve had my indescretions, but in general?  I don’t smoke, and the smell of tobacco smoke and marijuana smoke, et cetera makes me feel ill.  I don’t drink because 1.) I don’t like any alcohol I’ve ever tasted; 2.) the smell makes me nauseated; and 3.) I cannot in any way, shape, or form justify drinking.  I’m really bad about that, and as a college student, that pretty much screws me over.  I will tolerate drinking, I will be your designated driver, and I will cut you off, but being around people drinking just isn’t fun from me and I feel peer pressured- general, all-around unhappy.  I hate drinking, period.  I can keep going, but do I have to?

It definitely makes me look like a snob, and no fun (though every once and a while someone tells me I’m a lot of fun, and I just don’t understand).  Many of the people my age require a tolerance (and prefer an interest) in one of those four activities, and since I’m not keenly interested in any of them, I kind of shy away from people.  Why be friends with people who do things that you don’t like?  In the end, it’s akin to making friends with a bunch of people on the robotics team, even though you hate things like engineering and problem solving.  Only they’re more controversial topics, so people get more offended when you disapprove of drinking, smoking, swearing, and sleeping around.

I’m not trying to sound preachy.  I think it may sound that way, but I’m not trying to be.  I’m just exploring the reasons why I have difficulty making friends, and why the people I have made friends with (and want to see outside of their environments) as of late are four, six y ears younger than me.  A lot of them have the same values in these areas that I do.  Some of them, granted, I like and all, but I can never completely and thoroughly trust because I know they drink and smoke, and I don’t know why, that just bars me from respecting them fully (unfair to them, I know).  Most of the people I’ve been trying to befriend are like me, but if nothing else, they’re underage, and can’t legally be doing any of the things that worry me.  Unfortunately, my age worries a lot of their parents and I understand that and I curse my generation (or, you know, just plain old college students) for creating a reputation of uncleanliness, illegal activity, and general mayhem.

This is why at first, I missed Houghton.  It was a dry campus, it was mostly safe.  Of course, I was more naive then, and now I know that there are parties there same as any other college.  I’m just looking for a safe place with safe friends, and when I don’t see someone that fits my needs, I bar myself in and let myself be anti-social.  One of the many reasons I am anti-social, at any rate.

It’s Ashley’s birthday today and hopefully it will be good.  I had a lot of fun the last time I saw these girls, the ones I went to high school (middle school, in Caitlyn’s case!) with.  We’ll see what today holds.  I have no plans, just cake.

That’s What Friends are For!

“Many people will walk in and out of your life, but only true friends will leave footprints in your heart.” ~ Elanor Roosevelt.

Let’s talk about all the best parts about friends.  Friends are tricky creatures.  They take a little piece of your heart with them whether you want them to or not.  I mean, I fully believe that everyone you meet shapes you just a little bit (if not more) but you also have to give a little piece of yourself to them, too.  I think that may be one of the reasons why I’m more inclined to have a few good friends than a lot of not-so-friendish friends.

This is what I love about my friends:

• Sammy came to hang out with me today even though she’s feeling down.
• Sean is willing to listen to anything and everything without a single complaint.
• Sammy always thinks of me in the little things.  Like, I have two nail-polish covered rocks sitting on one of the footstools in my room.  What am I going to do with them?  God knows!  But I love them, because she thought of me and put so much time in them.  The little one’s name is Steve.  Steve made my day last Tuesday.
• Angela was always there to hit me over the head when I was being dumb.  Did I listen to her?  No.  But she was always there.
• David is always there to take a walk when I want to clear my mind.  He’s the only person I know that silence isn’t awkward with.  In fact, I dreadfully miss walks with him, because it was always brilliant just getting lost in the darkness, walking down the endless Fillmore roads.
• Jon used to give the best hugs in the world.  He’s so much bigger than me, warm, and there was always love in his hugs.
• I can pick up right where I left off with Jon every time I see him.  We’re older, different, but nothing really changes between us.
• About all of them?  I can be me around them.  No masks.  I trust them.  Which terrifies me, but it’s the truth.

These things are just the beginning.  There’s so much to these people around me.  These are the things that come into my head in five minutes.  They’re all beautiful people and I am utterly blessed that they are willing to share their lives with me.

I’m feeling sentimental.  I tell my friends I love them because I mean it.  I love them to pieces, because they’re like brothers and sisters to me.  I don’t know if they love me love, but I would take a bullet in the head for any one of them.  Because I’d rather die for them than live knowing I could have stopped it.  And I am eternally grateful for the happiness they make me feel.  It’s a rare gift.  People generally would prefer to make each other miserable.

Yet another reason why my friends are so great.

And your Bird Can Sing

“What is a friend?  A single soul dwelling in two bodies.” ~ Aristotle.

Good morning, great big beautiful world!  I woke up with the sun blaring in my face this morning, something that would make most people grimace, roll over, and shut the curtain, but not me!  … I actually threw my comforter over my head and went back to sleep… but I didn’t close the curtain or grimace or anything or the sort.  I believe my first thought was:  “Oh, it’s sunny out.  Someone at work told me it was supposed to rain.  So much for that.”  I’m such a chipper morning person.  I’m pretty sure the rest of the civilised world hates me for that.  I would have you know that the curtain is still open, the sun is still shining in my face, and I’m okay with that.  I did shut my window though.  Not because it was cold, but because there was this ruddy bird outside making an incredibly loud clicking noise.  I listened patiently for about three hours, I really did, but it didn’t stop and it’s singing didn’t improve (or rhythm change, for that matter) so I was forced to take drastic measures.

I love the peacefulness of mornings.  I think I’m a morning person out of necessity.  You see, even when they’re up early, my parents aren’t up until 8am or 9am.  If I get up at 6am, that gives me a minimum of two hours of solitude and bliss.  At night, my dad is sometimes awake until 2am, watching television really loud.  That gives me a headache, and makes me irritable.  So mornings are really the times for me.  They’re times when I can sit by myself, without interruption, and think to myself about the world, or get some writing done.  This morning isn’t all that peaceful, because my father is up, but usually… usually they’re great.

Sammy mentioned something in her blog entry that I absolutely need to concur with, and that is… I really miss Sean.  And I don’t really know why.  Sean is a conundrum to me.  I’ve always liked him as a human being, I wasn’t really friends with him until… two weeks ago?  Or so?  I mean, I considered him a friend, but I never talked to him.  I don’t know why.  I just didn’t.  And then I talked to him until 4am.  And then the next day I stayed up talking all night to him.  I don’t know why.  I just didn’t want to stop talking.  And he didn’t tell me to, even though I told him if at any time he wanted to go to sleep, it was okay.  God knows, I would’ve fallen asleep!  For some reason I trust him.  And I just don’t trust… people.  The fact that I do feel the need to tell him things makes me uneasy.  And sometimes, of course, he makes me mad, because he’s incredibly cocky.  He knows he’s cocky, of course, and sees it as a non-issue.  I feel like sitting down and making him watch Camelot (the musical, starring Richard Harris), and every time Lancelot appears on screen, jumping up and flailing and saying, “See!  See! That’s you!” because Lancelot is practically perfect in every way except he’s so damn full of himself!  But I digress.

I miss him, because he’s someone I enjoy talking to, and knowing that I can talk to him kind of makes me happy.  Since I’ve come back from New York, I’ve had issues making friends.  Yeah, sure, there are people but they’re not really friends.  There are too many things about a lot of the people I know to keep me from wanting to get close to them.  Intense alcoholism being one of them (I don’t care what they say; it’s still alcoholism in college).  An overprotective, jealous boyfriend being the other.  I’ve never been one to have a huge group of friends (I’d rather have a few good friends than a bunch of superficial jerks) but I find I’m in an awkward position here.  I don’t drink… which pretty much kicks me outta the college community.  So much for finding a lot of good friends there.  And then, I like a lot of the high-schoolers I work with, but I’m between three and six years older than them.  If we all were fifty, that would be a non-issue, but I’m twenty and some of them are fourteen.  It makes parents uneasy.  So I get to float in this sort of awkward realm.  I still have friends from high school (sure, we see each other once a year at Christmastime) and New York (I talk to Vil a lot, but all the rest just kind of pop up when it’s convenient.  I don’t love them any less for it, but it makes me sad.  I miss them… but with a lot of them, the ball isn’t in my court.  And the ones who want to talk to me are usually the high-maintenance ones who bring me down.  I still love them… but they make me hate life and that’s not cool.

Nonetheless!  This is not supposed to be a pity-party-post!  I am in a grand mood this morning, despite the fact that I have to go to work.  As few as they are, I love my friends, every single one of them.  I care about them like siblings.  Having so few people I really adore and trust here makes me care all the more about the ones I have.  I think that may be why I miss Sean so much.  But Eric says he’s coming back on … … today, I actually think!  That makes me happy.

And I am wearing a new necklace today.  It’s handcrafted silver and malachite, metalwork that I couldn’t begin to do.  It’s lovely, and I paid too much for it, but I think it was worth it.  It’s very pretty and it makes me happy.