Trivial thoughts not about writing (I hear you applauding already)

I thought I’d post some internal monologue stuff this time, instead of all the musings about writing.

Welcome to my world . . . built with *me* in mind. (Apologies to the original song’s creator[s].)

I loved the ORIGINAL Parent Trap movie, not ’cause I didn’t know where my parents were (in the other room, arguing at top of lungs, and if I went in there, one of them would whop me or use me as ammo and I’d get hit, cracked across the face, etc., so I knew not to go in there–at least after 7 PM; during the day, they were mostly pleasant), but because I always had a fond fantasy that I really had a sister somewhere whom I could talk to, play with, admire, despise, argue with, exchange clothes with, talk about books with, talk about boys with, etc. Now, see here, I wasn’t alone entirely. I usually had one tight-tight best friend who SEEMED like a sister and would spend many a night with our family. Often I had TWO of them, one from school and one from some unrelated venue (church, a club, a dramatics production, neighborhood), and those two would invariably not like each other and couldn’t be mixed, which is a good thing ’cause I know of many people who introduced their two BFs and those two promptly hooked up and excluded/ostracized their original introducer. Anyway, though, I wasn’t an outcast. We two usually had a few other friends we’d mix with, but we were the ones called the Toni Twins (if you do not get that, you are not my age) or the Bobbsey Twins (nonsensical, ’cause those were boy/girl sets, but anyway, you get the idea) or Mutt/Jeff, Martin/Lewis, “Kenan and Kel” (for you youngsters), etc. This was true through my first job, when the “school” structure no longer applied and it was every cat for herself. Anyway, I miss that now that I’m out of “girl” friends almost entirely IRL. Not that I need somebody I have to worry about and keep happy, but it WOULD be nice.

That Darn Cat is my next fave flick from that era. Saw it on the Big Screen when I was a kid. Remembered it as being far cleverer than it actually probably is. (Bobby Darin sings the title track–trivia note for BD fans like me.) A magical experience, going to a theater as a child. In 1965, when I was around 5, the theaters didn’t BLAST the sound the way they do now, and you could live through the sound. Theater seats and screens bigger. Much more refrigerated. House lights brighter. Perhaps that was part of the illusion of the magical childhood. Anyhow, it was a pleasant experience. We also saw Flipper–that was the FIRST movie I ever saw in a theater, a large one in Houston near Sharpstown–and then Angel in my Pocket with Andy Griffith, seen at large-screen Texas theater in Sherman, Texas, with aunt, uncle, and grandmother. Aren’t you fascinated? I’m sure you are. *yawn*

I used to hope that I had a sister somewhere who would show up. Now that I’m fortyish, it’s too damn late. But anyhow, it woulda been nice.

(“Isn’t it pretty to think so.”)

(Edited to end the faulty “underline” command, which was making everything underscored. Also, extra points to those bookish types who recognize the last line of original entry as last line of a v. famous American novel.)