We've recently upgraded to a 52" LCD with HD cable and Blu-ray player. The images are so sharp, it's really like you're in the room with the action - like you're at a play. I found it took a bit of getting used to. Things are too real. The surroundings look like sets not real buildings. Actors I think are hot aren't as young-looking or flawless as I thought they were. Even gorgeous actresses, whose beauty I envied, have fallen off their pedestals. Yup, it's official, my rose-colored glasses have been removed.
Initially, I was disgusted. "HD has ruined my life!!!" Now, I'm humbled. I like seeing freckles, moles, wrinkles, face-divots, scars and cellulite - especially cellulite - on celebrities. In fact, HD is so much like being there that some shows are now down right scary! We flicked on Boston Legal in HD the other night and let me tell you my friends, it's doesn't get any more real than that. This show is full of old fuckers and it isn't pretty! Good thing it's funny as hell.
Movie make-up is good at enhancing features but it still can't completely hide the real person. I like that. I like knowing that with or without make-up, these people could look like my boss or my next-door neighbour . I like knowing that with make-up on tv, my face could look like one of them. Oh sure, those of you who live in "Hollywood Land" and other such places have reached this conclusion years ago. Don't get me wrong, I know they're real people but surreality can occur for a small town gal like myself who has little chance of seeing stars on a trip to the store. It can be a big deal. You're sitting there thinking, "What about photos in magazines? Those are really clear you nit-wit." Photos can be doctored, even more-so today, a wrinkle removed here, a mole or zit removed there. Nevermind the botox factor. I just don't trust celebrity photos and I don't buy or read magazines (although admittedly since joining VFTW, I read about and see a lot more photos of celebrities than normal). Regardless, my point is - my view of the world has been skewed yet again, this time because of the reality of HDtv. It's also changed how I view myself - and in case you're wondering, that's a good thing.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
A Chip Off The Old Block
As I mentioned before, I think parenting is hard. My oldest son is now in grade 3 and sometimes he proves to be very challenging as he likes to fib and procrastinate. He'll say and do anything to try to get out of his responsibilities. He likes being the martyr. I find myself thinking "where does this come from?." I found my answer after digging deep in my memory vaults.
When I was about 4 (I think?), I talked nastily back to my mother. Her friend said to me "Don't talk to your mother like that." I was pissed. How dare YOU tell ME how to talk to MY mother?? The bitch. She was leaving and I knew she'd be back later. I went outside, turned on the garden hose and proceeded to wet down the sidewalk. My mom stuck her head out the door and asked what I was doing. I simply stated "Wetting the sidewalk so when Mrs. Long comes back she'll slip and break her leg." Vindictive? Who me? My mom gave me a tea towel and told me to clean it up. I remember crying while sopping up the unaffected sidewalk. I don't remember what exactly I did after that, but I do remember explaining to my mom when asked that I got the idea from Sesame Street. I know, you're like - WHAT?!? Sesame Street had a character much like Mr. Noodle that I remember would be trying to use a garden hose and would be spraying water everywhere and then of course he would slip in it and break his leg. When Mrs. Long came back and was told the drama, my mom told me she said, "I guess I deserved that!" She also told me years later that while I was mopping up the sidewalk, she was in her room with the door closed laughing her head off.
In grade 1, I didn't like school. I found it boring, full of rules and generally no fun. I hated it so much! So, at the end of recess one day, I decided that if I got 'hurt' I would get out of class for the rest of the day. I DID get out of class, but only after I placed my left pointer finger against the brick wall and opened the heavy outer door hard enough to hit it. My plan worked so well, I actually damaged my finger enough to lose my whole finger nail. Damn! Why did I do that again? Oh yeah, I wanted out of class for the day. Do my parents know? I told them years later.
The more and more I think about my early childhood, the more I realize I was bossy, vindictive and oh-so dramatic. Lucky for me, I ran into a teacher in grade 5 who I was sure hated me. She was sarcastic - something I had never run into before - and would make fun of me and others in the class. SHE WAS OUT TO GET ME. I lost a lot of self-confidence that school year. My grades suffered. It was so bad, the minute I would wake up, I'd start crying that I had to go to school. My parents would mention it in parent/teacher interviews and get the response - "I have no problems with her." I got through the school year, but my self-image was beaten down. The start of the next school year, I was excited until I discovered that teacher had moved up a grade and I was in her class again that year. I came home bawling and my parents moved me to another teachers class. I thank them everyday for doing that. I also thank my grade 5 teacher. In destroying my hubristic tendencies, she took part in creating the person I am today.
What have I learned from this trip to the deep, dank places of my memory? My son has a long way to go to compete with me. I was way more creative, crafty and reckless in my attempts to get out of things I didn't want to do than he has presented thus far.
I also have 2 other mini-mes who may out-do me.
Now, where did I place that tried and true parenting book again? Oh, right. There isn't one.
When I was about 4 (I think?), I talked nastily back to my mother. Her friend said to me "Don't talk to your mother like that." I was pissed. How dare YOU tell ME how to talk to MY mother?? The bitch. She was leaving and I knew she'd be back later. I went outside, turned on the garden hose and proceeded to wet down the sidewalk. My mom stuck her head out the door and asked what I was doing. I simply stated "Wetting the sidewalk so when Mrs. Long comes back she'll slip and break her leg." Vindictive? Who me? My mom gave me a tea towel and told me to clean it up. I remember crying while sopping up the unaffected sidewalk. I don't remember what exactly I did after that, but I do remember explaining to my mom when asked that I got the idea from Sesame Street. I know, you're like - WHAT?!? Sesame Street had a character much like Mr. Noodle that I remember would be trying to use a garden hose and would be spraying water everywhere and then of course he would slip in it and break his leg. When Mrs. Long came back and was told the drama, my mom told me she said, "I guess I deserved that!" She also told me years later that while I was mopping up the sidewalk, she was in her room with the door closed laughing her head off.
In grade 1, I didn't like school. I found it boring, full of rules and generally no fun. I hated it so much! So, at the end of recess one day, I decided that if I got 'hurt' I would get out of class for the rest of the day. I DID get out of class, but only after I placed my left pointer finger against the brick wall and opened the heavy outer door hard enough to hit it. My plan worked so well, I actually damaged my finger enough to lose my whole finger nail. Damn! Why did I do that again? Oh yeah, I wanted out of class for the day. Do my parents know? I told them years later.
The more and more I think about my early childhood, the more I realize I was bossy, vindictive and oh-so dramatic. Lucky for me, I ran into a teacher in grade 5 who I was sure hated me. She was sarcastic - something I had never run into before - and would make fun of me and others in the class. SHE WAS OUT TO GET ME. I lost a lot of self-confidence that school year. My grades suffered. It was so bad, the minute I would wake up, I'd start crying that I had to go to school. My parents would mention it in parent/teacher interviews and get the response - "I have no problems with her." I got through the school year, but my self-image was beaten down. The start of the next school year, I was excited until I discovered that teacher had moved up a grade and I was in her class again that year. I came home bawling and my parents moved me to another teachers class. I thank them everyday for doing that. I also thank my grade 5 teacher. In destroying my hubristic tendencies, she took part in creating the person I am today.
What have I learned from this trip to the deep, dank places of my memory? My son has a long way to go to compete with me. I was way more creative, crafty and reckless in my attempts to get out of things I didn't want to do than he has presented thus far.
I also have 2 other mini-mes who may out-do me.
Now, where did I place that tried and true parenting book again? Oh, right. There isn't one.
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