So I watched Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade for the billionth time last time with Jasmine and it was excellent because like me, Jasmine is one of those people who is not above memorizing every damn line of a movie and then spitting it back at the screen. What with the innumerable shouts "Junior!" "Herr Jones!" and "You call this archeology?" We were hella obnoxious. In honor of Indy fandom, here's a painfully cute and awesome little behind-the-scenes-clip from back in the day:
On to the guest post! Today's Manda, the book-savvy Aussie behind the aptly named Memoirs of a Word Nerd. I love reading her posts that range from the obvious topic of books, to the bizarre happenings she encounters in her everyday life. She's an incredible writer but right I now I think she needs a hug. And someone to take the Twilight books out of her room:
Confessions of a Failed Cynic
I've always admired our favourite Cynic's adeptness with Paint, as well as her snarky but positive take on popular culture.
I don't know about you, but I've always identified more with the cynicism than the sugar. I mean, I didn't cry in The Notebook, I think romantic comedies are lame (except for Love Actually) and I understand that Valentine's Day is just a commercial trap that puts pressure on men to compete with each other when it comes to showing how much they care.
Or I thought I did.
A few days prior to everyone's favourite nauseating Hallmark Holiday, I assured my boyfriend that he didn't need to make a big fuss about 'all that crap.' (We'd just been to dinner with my friends, you see, and one of them was lamenting that her man had failed to book a restaurant. Her rage had frightened my poor boyfriend.)
"But you liked the flowers," he said, referring to the bouquet he sent me for our six month anniversary.
"Yeah I did," I admitted. "I just mean, you don't have to go out of your way to impress me."
Luckily, he didn't. He didn't get me anything.
As the day passed, and people uploaded bragging statuses and photos of their gifts onto Facebook, I couldn't help but feel sorry for myself.
"You have to understand," said my sister wisely. "That men always think we say what we mean."
"But they should know!" I wailed. "He should've known I'd want something."
He didn't. I'd spent so much time cultivating my image as a no-fuss, low maintenance girlfriend that I'd actually managed to pull it off.
O cruel karma.
After I'd eaten my feelings, I turned, like a real fan girl, to comforting pop culture. First, there were two episodes of Glee (one on DVD, the other on TV- just for variety). Then (brace yourself) I went to bed and started re-reading Twilight. And it wasn't even for the lulz.
That bang you just heard is the sound of Sugary Cynicism readers around the world facepalming the nearest hard surface.
The last time I read it was almost two years ago for a class on the discourse of romantic fiction. I enjoy the excessive amount of snarky commentary on the web as much as anyone. In fact, maybe even more than the average person.
So why did I turn to the sparkly vampire epic for comfort?
Was it so I could laugh at the number of times Meyer describes Edward's glorious, perfect angel face? So I could deconstruct the traits that make Bella a poor role model? Normally, that would be the case.
It worries me that I resorted to the anti-climactic adventures of Bella and Edward on what is supposed to be the most romantic and contrived day of the year. It troubles me further that I will probably keep reading it after I finish this post.
I'm really sorry you guys, please forgive me. I know it's hip to hate Twilight and normally I avoid the anti-climactic adventures of Bella and Edward but can I plead insanity?
We all do weird things when we're wallowing, right? Right?
Well, this silence is getting awkward. Hey look you guys! A tumbleweed!
*Hits send and runs away*
Aw, kiddo (yes I know we're pretty much the same age, shut up), I'm sorry V-day didn't turn out how you wanted. But, still, their are other things to turn to than (shudder) Twilight. I kid. Mostly. I mean, who am I to talk? When I get romantically sad I draw pictures of me and Batma-I mean...I do other things. Things that aren't that...
Stay tuned as guest week begins to draw to a close!