Back to the Future, Back to Reality.

Review Info
From the start, this review is confusing, Who is Marty Mcfly and why does he have multiple lives? "Browbeaten" by large words and ly adverbs, the review finally takes shape, stating the characters and their roles within the movie. The eccentric use of words, such as loutish, was confusing to read providing they did not have the quality back up of context clues. Marty is tossed back in 1950's, where he accidentally (ly) comes between his parents meeting causing a shift in the space-time continuum, or so it could have been better written for optimal understanding. Arguably, the end provides the readers with enough knowledge of the plot for them to make a quick judgement of the movie without too many spoilers.

Words I had to look up; Or words I couldn't pronounce
Loutish - awkward; stupid; boorish
Acrimonious - angry and bitter; caustic

Original Review
Contemporary high schooler Marty McFly (Michael J. Fox) doesn't have the most pleasant of lives. Browbeaten by his principal at school, Marty must also endure the acrimonious relationship between his nerdy father (Crispin Glover) and his lovely mother (Lea Thompson), who in turn suffer the bullying of middle-aged jerk Biff (Thomas F. Wilson), Marty's dad's supervisor. The one balm in Marty's life is his friendship with eccentric scientist Doc (Christopher Lloyd), who at present is working on a time machine. Accidentally zapped back into the 1950s, Marty inadvertently interferes with the budding romance of his now-teenaged parents. Our hero must now reunite his parents-to-be, lest he cease to exist in the 1980s. It won't be easy, especially with the loutish Biff, now also a teenager, complicating matters. Beyond its dazzling special effects, the best element of Back to the Future is the performance of Michael J. Fox, who finds himself in the quagmire of surviving the white-bread 1950s with a hip 1980s mindset. Back to the Future cemented the box-office bankability of both Fox and the film's director, Robert Zemeckis, who went on to helm two equally exhilarating sequels. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi via Rottentomatoes.com

All in all, I would give this review a 3 Corey Feldman Friday the 13th: Final Chapter but minus a .5 Lost Boys: The Tribe ( 2.5 overall)

Rating system (1 - 5, 1 being worst 5 being best) in Corey Feldman movies
.5 Lost Boys: The Tribe
1 Teenage Mutant Ninja Turles
1.5 Dream a Little Dream
2 Burbs
2.5 License to Drive
3 Friday the 13th: Final Chapter
3.5 Gremlins
4 Lost Boys
4.5 The Goonies
5 Stand by Me

If There's Such A Thing As Love.....

I'm In It!

We got our invitations. Zachary and I spent countless hours in front of the computer perfecting them (well He more than I). The stamp we had custom made online from an image we found. I guess you can say I have a thing for elephants! We used airmail envelopes we got on Amazon (all 12 boxes) to send them out and found "Zombie Parts" at a local craft/knick-knack shop here in Chicago to stuff the envelopes. If you do not know what "Zombie Parts" are I suggest you look them up on Etsy. They take pieces and parts from vintage magazines, newspapers, books, etc. and combine them into a little package of vintage media goodness! Everything an inspiring crafter, bride-to-be, or vintage lover could want!

Invitations:
Printing: $60 using an online website
Invitation itself: Free! With much time and effort spent perfecting them!
Airmail Envelopes: Amazon, about $2.50 a box, Costing $25.50 for 12 boxes and free shipping!
Stamp: Rubber Stamp Champ online website, about $40 for custom stamp and an ink pad
Paper: The stamp paper we used leftover scrapbooking paper you can buy at Joann's for about $3.50 for one package of about 50-60 pieces, various colors
Stuffers: Zombie Parts about $12 for 3 bags

Final total: $141 for 250 invitations, 300 envelopes, Custom Stamp and Ink, Scrapbooking Paper, and Stuffers!

I think we did pretty well for ourselves!

Showers in the Outfield.

I've been having these thoughts lately, well, when I am in the shower. Majority of people have these thoughts before they go to sleep, or contemplate while they are working out. Well, since when I crawl into bed I either fall flat on my face and pass out, or cuddle up with my boyfriend and pass out. No time for contemplation there, and I don't work out. I'm not even going to say "rarely" or "sometimes." I just plain ole' do not work out. Unless you call riding my bike and getting hit by cars working out, then I guess I would have to change my status to "sometimes."
Back to shower talk. So, I contemplate my life coming, life past, fantasy worlds, crazy spiders, you name it, I "dream" it. I also have this routine where I listen to the same cassette tape every time I enter the wash room to linger in hot water for long periods of time. "The Outfield - Play Deep" blasts on my little portable 'Playskool' tape player painted pink with a giant character etched on the front. Usually, I turn on the shower (I know it's not 'green' to turn on the shower before you even get in the tub, but then again, who likes cold water blasting on them right from the start?), press play on the tape player, then take off my clothes and hop on in. The reflection period starts here.
Okay, I acknowledge that I did not go into detail about the outfield tape, here is a little background. My friend Michelle goes to college in Bowling Green, Ohio. There is a crazy dance 80's party every Monday at Uptown. I would go visit her sometimes and we would go get our groove on (wrong era). The Outfield song "Your Love" would always play, and we would always sing. What started as harmless dancing, turned quickly into cult status among my friends and I. Every mix tape had that song, every night when we would close at the Exchange I would sing that song, I started posting the video to my friends myspaces, etc... So, Zachary's 24th birthday rolls around, and our friend Deanna finds an Outfield tape at the Unique thrift store in Cleveland, gives it to him for his birthday, I put it in out tape player, and there it is. How the Outfield tape came to play.
Besides, being able to sing all the lyrics, there came a time when Zachary would listen to the tape when he showered. He would start where I left off, and I would pick up where he left off. This became tricky when my showers would get longer (rinse, shampoo, rinse, conditioner, body wash, shave arm pits, rinse, wash conditioner out, rinse, shave my legs, rinse) I would go through the tape longer, sometimes, having to flip it over. Zachary would shower and go through the rest of the tape I would start my shower where I began in the first place. Meaning, I would hear the same damn songs over and over. We are past that now, I am pretty sure he doesn't listen to the Outfield when I am not at home, or that is what the tape tells me when I turn it on and it is where I left off.
I have no idea why I still have not changed that tape. I guess the Outfield helps my reflection period in the shower, or I can not really take a shower unless I am humming "Josie's on a vacation far away....."

Swine Nine Flu For You.

In all this chaos, the global 'pandemic' called the Swine Flu has created quite a stir. More of a stir than the Mrs. USA pageant contestant that denounced Gay Marriage on Live television, then found it necessary to start an anti-gay marriage group in Washington D.C. (that's another topic for another day, back to flu wu). A man sneezed on me on the train today, and it got me thinking: If the Swine Flu were to create a resume or have an agenda, what would it entail? Let's recap.

Mutate from original swine influenza (Check)
Infect Pig Handler in Mexico (Check)
Take Over Mexico (Check)
Travel to the United States on a Vacation across American Tour (Check)
Cause Mass Hysteria that Closes Schools and Causes People to Wear Masks like SARS is back in Style (Double Check)
Hitchhike to Europe on Unsuspecting Travelers (Check)
Cause a Global Pandemic (Check Mate)

Maybe this part of my fear or my grieving process to make a joke out of something "so serious" (as a co-worker told me), but I can not help but wonder why everyone is making such a big deal over this. You have a better chance of dying from the regular flu strain than even contracting Swine Flu. Hand sanitizer only works for so long and does not kill most viruses. Might as well lick the hand of a stranger than use that stuff. Not that we should all lick the hands of strangers, unless you are into that thing, then by all means, lick it like a lollipop (have I mentioned my hatred for that 'Lil' Wayne song?).

I almost wish the swine flu would pick me for a host. I will gladly take you into my house, let you destroy my white blood cells and cause my stomach to curdle and a fever to ensue my insides. I need to get warm somehow. I can imagine what it would be like contracting Swine Flu. This is how I imagine it would be:
The swine flu enters my nasal cavity and then my body. I walk around unknowingly infecting other people by touching and be touched. I then start to feel the symptoms some odd days later, and brush it off as allergies. The fever sets in, I start to tremble and wake Zachary up by stating "It picked me, can you believe it?" I then pass out only to wake up in the emergency room hooked up to an I.V. of fluids and Tamiflu. In the meantime, the laboratory tests and confirms the Swine Flu in my system, the doctors alert the proper authorities. I get sent home from the hospital with a prescription for rest and some fluids. A Chicago Tribune reporter calls my phone a day later to ask if he can interview me for the paper. I accept, and we talk on the phone for an hour or so. The next day, Zachary brings me a copy of the paper home, and I see my name and the article posted. I think to myself, "Oh, this was a genius plan."
A little insane, I know. Although, I would go down in the record books for being one of the many Americans, one of the few Chicagoans who contracted Swine Flu.

On a lighter note, Barbie got a tramp stamp. Yes, that is how I am ending this.

Disclaimer: I really do not wish to contract Swine Flu.

In the closet, so to say.

I have always wondered why we, as humans or rather Americans, use closets. The word closet itself baffles my mind. There are wardrobe closets and free standing closets. A pantry signifies a closet, where a water closet refers to a toilet? There is even a closet sold at Ikea that has a mirror and cabinets with a built in nightstand (I really want one of these). The purpose of a closet is to "store" all your closet needs such as toys (which is my problem hands down), shoes, clothes, blankets, personal belongings, filing cabinets, a noose, and anything else you want to throw in there with endless possibilities.
I recently watched an info-mercial about one of those closet space saver bags where you put all your clothes into a bag with hangers, and then suck all the air out with a vacuum. 'Saves space and time.' The only space that needs saved is the old republic from the Empire. Besides sounding a little futuristic and dangerous, I absolutely want one. I have piles and piles of clothes in my closet that need a good home inside a bag, where I can suck all the life and energy out of them, only to open the bag a few days later when I need that long sleeved plaid shirt because the weather in Chicago is wackier than Bobo the clown. I never thought a vacuum can be used to suck the air out of something, it makes me want to write about a bad super villain who uses the power of his $500 Dyson vacuum to suck the air out of someones lungs. A horrible way to die if you ask me. I am not sure if that is even plausible, but it would make for a great story or headline, "Man dies after sucking a vacuum." I won't even point out the irony.

"You've got a couple skeletons in the closet," or a "Closet Homosexual." Phrases meant to refer to a 'secret' you are keeping, somewhere in your closet. Maybe the closet of your mind or conscious. I keep clothes in my closet, I don't want to think about what someone else might be storing in there. This past summer when I went apartment hunting in Chicago, I came across a couple places our apartment lady was showing to us. Every time we would walk into a room with a closet, and she would immediately say, "This makes for great closet space." Great closet space, huh? What about the bedroom where I currently reside that has no closet. What would that space be considered in the corner where the closet should be? Open space, perhaps? I keep my dresser there, so dresser space it is. I also keep clothes inside my dresser, not secrets. Do you have to keep secrets in your closet? I am thinking about buying a Skeleton that you would use in anatomy lab or have in your medical office. Besides the fact of wanting to to own one, I would store him in my closet where I store other random objects and my secrets, That way if the subject should ever arise, I can always say, "Sure, I've got a few skeletons in my closet."

Life's unsolved puzzles.

I created this blog to help get out all these questions and theories I have growing at the base on my brain. Things such as, God and the R-Evolution (to be read as revolution), Veganism and my Cat, We're all a little Crazy, and I need to start reading Self-Help books.