Okay I’ll admit, I am one of those stupid people that will go to something just because my one favorite actor/actress is somehow involved in it. I hate pretty much anything Twilight, but if Mark Walhberg hit his head and suddenly decided to sign on for a Sparkles spinoff I would be front row and center cheering him on every glittery step of the way. If Charlize Theron popped up on the television today and told me to support Pampers for the sake of humanity, I probably would go out to my nearest store tomorrow and purchase a 12-pack of diapers—I don’t even know any kids that need diapers, but if Charlize says it’s okay dammit it has to be.
So last week I got to check out the premiere of Red Dawn, which hits theaters tomorrow and is actually a remake of the 1984 original with Patrick Swayze and a pre-hot mess Charlie Sheen which follows the story of two brothers who band together with a group of friends to take down an army of Soviet forces whom have invaded their town.
I liked the original film, so coming into the remake I had high hopes —it’s 2012 so the effects automatically will be cooler, the guns will be bigger and last but not least—this version features Chris Hemsworth and my latest Hollywood obsession, Josh Peck.
Seven months. Seven productive, positive life changing months of being clean before I caved back in. No I’m not talking about drugs; I’m talking about something much, much worse.
The blue Devil in the flesh. Everyone can take a break from it here and there, but you can never truly stay gone forever. I have determined that it is simply just not humanly possible. It’s like my Aunt Jerry’s house–you go because it’s familiar, you stay for all the crazy people and when it’s time to leave you wonder why you keep torturing yourself and going over to that goddamn house anyways.
If you haven’t already, today is THE DAY. Obama. Romney. Big Bird. Get out there and make your voice heard. If you can stand in line all day for that new IPhone5 or to get in some overpriced club, you can stand in line for your future. #Vote2012
Quarter Life Crisis: (N) The period in your life occuring between 20 and 30 years of age, when you realize that a quarter of your life is over and you start developing a more realistic outlook in life.
If you had asked me when I was 5 what I wanted to be when I grew up, without hesitation I would have answered a doctor, a writer and an ice skater. I’d have my practice Monday-Wednesday, skate practice Thursday, write Friday/Saturday and my skating performance Sunday evening. You couldn’t tell me that shit wasn’t going to work out.
Fast forward to my mid-twenties and I’ve grown to learn that the only interest of Dr. anything I had was Dr. Pepper and the last time I tried to ice skate it went along the lines of something like this:
Bottom line is that we spend so much of all little young lives fantasizing and building up this dream of triple threatening it across America that we soon wake up and find ourselves in *gasp* the real world–where nothing makes sense and everything is up for discussion. Welcome to the Quarter-Life Crisis.
In the childhood years, Halloween was about who had the coolest costume and could get the most candy. I was all about being scary stuff as a kid–from an old witch to a dead taxi cab driver (thanks a bunch mom). Somewhere over the years of that and being able to legally order a Cape Cod, things changed. It was less about the candy, and more about the costume–but with less material.
The first year of being able to officially go out and celebrate, not only did I fall into a crowd I will just now call the “Mean Girls”, but I also fell into the trend of dressing like a hooch magooch. It was decided to all wear two piece costumes and while the theme was referees I chose to be slightly “different” and not be completely assed out by wearing a sailor costume. Nonetheless, I still was half naked and should have been certified as a ninja considering the lengths I took to sneak out of the house dressed in my attire.
Even though I was with my “friends”, the overall going out experience was awful. The lines were incredibly long, the fee was expensive to get in, and the worst of it was that almost every guy in the building looked at me like red tag meat special.