Look at me! I’m actually working on that last, promised post of the travel blog. Unfortunately, there’s some rule about actually working while at work, so please… “give me moment.”
In the meantime, two interesting things popped up on the Internets this week related to old girlie pop-culture (well three if you count the fictional “Where Are They Now?” lowdown on the original Babysitter’s Club members posted over on The Hairpin. But never having indulged the Babysitter’s Club anything, I can’t get much of the insider humor. *Sigh*
Romantic as it may be, these two are not practicing proper fire safety!
But that’s just because I was watching television instead, too cool to be bothered with the malarkey known as books! And, like most children of the 80s, I adore the decade’s teen flicks. Well, most of them… Sixteen Candles rates in my top 10 (along with more discriminating choices, I swear!). So, in searching for an appropriate photo to adorn the website in which Phil and I will be posting all our wedding info, I found this: a blog post on Subterfuge/Subterfusex about the lesser discussed of John Hughes films with the claim that it doesn’t age well. Honestly, I thought it was the one John Hughes movie that so quintessentially captured the awkwardness of the age. And he was writing the part of a 16 year old girl! It had an honesty minus all the blimey self-awareness we saw in The Breakfast Club. Sure, not every pretty boy high school senior in a red Porsche is going to go out of his way to track down the unnoticed sophomore with the puppy dog crush… although that does describe most of the pop singer vehicles lately, leading the misconception that dashing, ivy-league bound Prince Charmings were just crawling out of the woodwork.
Ah, if only…
In another blog this week (this news is courtesy of O’Reilly), Emma Straub reflects on girlhood in the short-lived ABC series, My So-Called Life. And really, as entrancing as pretty boy Jared Catalano’s (Jared Leto, y’all) sparkly blue eyes were, I was more entranced by Angela’s perfect shade of Kool-Aid hair… Com’mon! Everyone stained up their bathroom trying that at one time or another in the early 90s… well, except me because I wanted Cindi Lauper hair instead, a dream shattered by my curly hair genes… *Double sigh*
More words about Opheim to follow shortly with fewer sighs and asterisks.