Yesterday I had my yearly "inspection" at the lady doctor, who is, contrary to the name I use, a man. It was uneventful, for the most part. They did have to draw blood from me though, since they're testing my kooky thyroid levels, and that was rather painful. My veins are stubborn, finicky, and prone to hiding. I've been turned away during a Red Cross blood drive. Sorry, dear, you're just too much trouble. You may have a cookie anyway though.

As a reward for not crying or asking anyone why the paper sheet was ever thought to be a good idea, I bought three children's books from a bargain bookshop. Edith and Mr. Bear and A Gift from the Lonely Doll by Dare Wright were two of them. A couple of years ago I read a biography of Dare Wright called The Secret Life of the Lonely Doll: The Search for Dare Wright. Her life was truly bizarre and totally fascinating. Last night I found a website that seems to be run by the woman whose pictures and stories formed the backbone of the biography I read...though the book isn't mentioned on her site. Perhaps she didn't approve of the finished product? At any rate, I now own the only three children's books by Wright that are still in print (the other one being The Lonely Doll). And all three of them are kind of strange. I don't think I'd feel comfortable showing them to a child, since there's something subtly sexual and subversive about them all. Basically, they're creepy. I like them because they're so weird. Actually, I don't really know why I like them. The fact that they're so weird is interesting, yes, but I think I just found the story of their author so interesting that her books are interesting by default.

The other book I got was a version of Disney's Cinderella. It's a Reader's Digest book, which are always a little strange. For example, this book doesn't have an ISBN listed on it anywhere, which feels very much like I've found a book that doesn't actually exist. Anyway, the illustrations by Retta Scott Worcester are beautiful:



They're the same illustrations from the original Little Golden Book from the 40's, which is back in print. I was thrilled to find this book yesterday, since I didn't know there was a Little Golden Book version available until just a second ago. I'd seen the artwork at the last exhibit I saw in the Disney Gallery, which was all about vintage Disney storybook art. It was a wonderful exhibit, but it just made me sad, since the gallery closed shortly afterwards (to become the Disneyland Dream Suite...which I think was a terrible idea). I'm planning on making another shrinky dink bracelet that's all Cinderella. I have a better idea of what I'm doing now, so it should turn out a little more consistant.

Labels: books., disney.

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I always seem to become obsessed with things when they no longer exist. I love all the apartments I no longer have. All the foods I like at a restaurant are the first to get changed or taken off the menu completely. I actually still miss clothes I had when I was a child (a pink and white striped polo shirt and my 1989 Easter dress, to be precise).

That being said, when did Disney decide to make EPCOT so stupid? I've heard the naysayers that think it was never that great, but I think they're dead wrong. When I was a kid, we had a CD of music from DisneyWorld--probably one of the first CDs we ever owned--that I've been wanting to listen to for at least a year. I found it at my parents' house a couple of weeks ago and have been listening to it occasionally. It. Is. Awesome!

I'm aware that I was sort of a snobby, goody-two-shoes kid, but I was also secretive and weird. Much like today. I tied furniture together with string, spinning the whole house into my web, then slid buckets along the string like an assembly line. I was addicted to the sound of my own voice playing back to me from countless cassettes. (Oh, my GOODNESS do I miss the 80's!)

Right now, I'm watching CNN's coverage of today's primaries. I find Wolf Blitzer incredibly boring. The pundits are so excited right now, which feels wrong. When political pundits get excited, something's gotta be wrong somewhere. They're like the paparazzi, but somehow not looked upon as weasels. I so much want Barack Obama to win the nomination, not to mention the general election. And here's why:

Barack Obama embodies all the good things I remember about EPCOT.

I know, I know. That's ridiculous, but it's also true. I need something fantastically good to happen in this country. I have yet to vote for a winner in a presidential election. I'm hoping to open my own bookstore, in a flailing economy, in the face of Amazon. I see all the possibilities that our superconnectivity can offer. The things I saw as a kid, enacted by animatronics, have slowly become real. But the spirit of excitement and wonder that I felt then is just not there. And when I hear Obama speak, a feeling wells up in me that's very similar to how I felt as a little girl, with my life splayed out in front of me like a sprawling red carpet. Just, take a look at this:

"If we can dream it, then we can do it. Yes, we can. Yes, we can." --from the theme song to "Horizons," my favorite, long demolished EPCOT ride.

"We are the hope of the future, the answer to the cynics who tell us our house must stand divided, that we cannot come together, that we cannot remake this world as it should be. We know that we have seen something happen over the last several weeks, over the past several months. We know that what began as a whisper has now swelled to a chorus that cannot be ignored, that will not be deterred, that will ring out across this land as a hymn that will heal this nation, repair this world, make this time different than all the rest. Yes, we can. Let’s go to work. Yes, we can. Yes, we can. Yes, we can." --Barack Obama in his Feb. 5th Super Tuesday speech

"Holding the spark, as we embark, on a great journey together we're learning to reach for hope and desire, building a world to inspire." --from a song called "Tomorrow's Child," which used to be part of "Spaceship Earth" (the ride inside the silver EPCOT globe)

"The implication is that if you are hopeful, that you somehow must be engaged in wishful thinking, that your heads must be in the clouds, that you must be passive and sit back and wait for things to happen to you. That seems to be the implication. And so I have to explain to people that is not what hope is. Hope is not blind optimism. Hope is not ignorance of the barriers and hurdles and hazards that stand in your way. Hope is just the opposite." --Obama

"A dream can be a dream come true, with just that spark in me and you." --from "Journey into Imagination," probably the best EPCOT ride ever

"We are the change that we seek." --Obama, Super Tues.

When I was a kid, EPCOT made me feel like I could do or be anything, that the world was open and amazing. And Obama makes me feel like, when I have kids, they'll have a chance of feeling the way I did. I want to be idealistic again. I'm tired of being dissatisfied with my country and being obsessed with things that aren't there anymore.

Labels: childhood., disney., political stuff.

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John and I bought a tripod about a month ago and finally used it this weekend. We took it to Disneyland so we could take pictures at night that weren't blurry. These are the ones that turned out the best. Enjoy my dorky Disney love!

Labels: disney., John., travel/tourism.

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Dear Jason Lee,

I've just gotten home from seeing Transformers. It was no where near as bad as I expected. It was a long, silly live-action cartoon of pretty ladies and big robots. Not exactly my cup of tea, but you have to understand that in the 1980's, as now, I was a girl. Until about five minutes before the previews started tonight, I thought Optimus Prime was a bad guy. Needless to say, I didn't watch the Transformers cartoon, and this is a little embarassing.

Changing the subject for a moment, Mr. Lee, do you remember that you ate at the Baja Fresh at Sunset and Vine during the opening weekend of Episode III? Well, I was there, too. My husband and I were there with our friends (Chris, Jennifer, and Greg), having a quick bite to eat before mingling with the Boba Fett and Chewy in the lobby of Arclight. You were there in your trendy clothes and weird Earl facial hair. And I was so excited to see you. Do you remember? Of course, I know you don't remember me, but do you at least remember owning a cool plaid shirt?

Mr. Lee, I first saw you in Dogma, because I didn't see Kevin Smith's movies in order. In college, I came to know you as Banky and Brodie, both of whom I found (and try to still find) adorable. I must tell you now, with love, that Brodie would be ashamed of you now.

Now, I'm not saying this to be hateful, I'm saying this as a sort of warning. You see, next month, a live-action movie of Underdog will be coming to theaters. And you are the voice of Underdog. Mr. Lee, surely you see that this was in bad form. I'm willing to cut you some slack, because you're much older than me and, in fact, new episodes of the original cartoon were still being made when you were a child. I'm sure you grew up on it. I'm sure it could've even been exciting for you to be his voice, in whatever dumb format Disney felt compelled (by what ridiculous force, only you and your ridiculous movie folk know) to create. But, I'm afraid I can only give you so much slack.

Before going into the theater this evening, my husband and I saw a huge, cardboard version of the movie poster for Alvin and the Chipmunks. Have you lost your mind?! How much money did they give you? Your face was over 3 feet tall, towering over the ugliest CG rodents I could've ever imagined!

Breckin Meyer, once known in my mind as the cute skater boy from Clueless, is dead to me now because of his offences against the cartoons of my youth. As is Matthew Broderick, for the same reason. I don't want you to be on that list! You're teetering on the edge! You're Brodie! Brodie would agree with me! You're destroying your reputation!

I swear to you, if I find out that you are somehow involved in a live-action My Little Pony movie, I'll track you down and beat you with a Rainbow Brite doll.

My final plea, Mr. Lee:

Stop ruining the cartoons of my childhood!

Thank you.

P.S. Stay away from the Care Bears, too.

Labels: childhood., disney., movies., toys., tv.

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When I'm at work, I feel anxious. Ready to leave. My life exists outside of my job. I sometimes don't even feel connected to it. I think about how much fun I can have...as soon as I drive away.

Last Saturday evening, John and I went to a neat restaurant in Glendale called Damon's. It's a Polynesian, tiki, fake-palm-tree decorated steak house. We met some of my coworkers from my old job. It was a sort of a strange night. They were all so funny and great to be around and I had a fantastic time. We exchanged old "war stories" about how bad the job got toward the end--two of them were laid off on Christmas Eve.

And yet... I left feeling depressed. I guess, in part, because I don't work with them anymore. And, I think, because I know there was something about that job that was so much better than the one I have now. Of course, if I went back now it would be horrible. None of those people work there anymore, after all.

I was kind of a mess on Sunday. It's funny how I can be so full of ambition and ideas and have huge projects going all the time, but at the same time feel like I'm never productive. I'm a paradox.

On Monday, we had reservations to go to theLargo again. We were supposed to go with Anna this time, but she got a terrible sinus infection over the weekend and by Monday was skipping work to hang out at home with a kleenex box. So, John and I went alone. Oh, yes, we saw the amazing Flight of the Conchords!

If that name means nothing to you, I suggest you make them your summer project. Get to know Bret and Jemaine.

They were unbelievable. So funny my face actually hurt. I can't describe it. If I mentioned, for example, that at one point Jemaine was wearing a viking hat (I don't know the story, but it's always on top of the Largo piano) and shaking a banana, they might sound a little over the top. They might sound like prop comics. They aren't. They're brilliant. They sang songs we'd never heard before.

A couple of weeks ago, I watched a episode of the Golden Girls, it may have even been the last episode, and Dorothy quotes Freud to her ex-husband Stan, saying "Our beds are crowded." She was getting remarried and acknowledging the fact that the ghosts of her and her new husband's old marriages and past relationships would always be with them. Yes, I just used the Golden Girls to quote Freud, yes, I did it, don't judge me! By that token, our table at the FotheC show was very crowded (and not just because Anna's absence meant sharing a table with two total strangers).

Our lives in general are watermarked by the friends who aren't here. The friends we moved away from. On Monday, I felt guilty because Anna was sick and really disappointed. But that was nothing on knowing how much Jim would've loved being there.

Our table was very crowded.

Labels: disney., friends., music., work.

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I've been really depressed lately. But on the plus side, I've finished Christmas shopping (except for John's grandmother) and am going to mail our Christmas cards tomorrow.

After an exceptionally crappy day at work, John brought home the singing Chicken Little for me:


Chicken Little and I, we have a lot in common, what with us both being rather apocalyptic in attitude.

My Minnie Mouse antenna ball was recently stolen. My car was parked right in front of the office of our apartment complex at the time. We live in The Valley. Who here needs to steal a Disneyland antenna ball? Seriously. Just go to Disneyland. There's no need to sacrifice your morals over a piece of foam. Again, it's The Valley. Seriously. We live with the yuppies.

I sort of imagined a gang of Valley boys in baggy Old Navy jeans and Abercrombie and Fitch sweaters vandalizing the streets of Burbank and Toluca Lake by stealing things with little to no value and dropping their Starbucks cups just beside the sidewalk trashcan.

I'm so hard on the people in The Valley. They're really not that bad, most of them. It's just that there's so many of them. And we live in the Pretty Rich People capital of the world.

And yet, today, I saw a guy arguing with a girl at Popeye's over 20¢. Seriously. I've been stupid crazy depressed lately, but I'm not yelling at anybody. The holidays are here. Lighten up, people!

*Edit* Wanna hear Chicken Little sing?

Labels: disney., los angeles is weird., me and the awesome things I like.

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John and I took Misty, my sister-in-law who has been here almost a week now, to Knott's Berry Farm. Knott's is one of the few LA attractions John and I hadn't already seen, so it was nice to do something new with Misty. And it's a pretty good amusement park. The quality of the rides is about the same as in Six Flags Over Georgia (the only Six Flags I've ever been to, I think), but the atmosphere was nicer. Not quite Disney nice, but nice. There are a lot of roller coasters there, so I screamed a lot today. The lines were practically nonexistent, too, so that was cool.

There was a ride in the "Fiesta Village" section called "La Revolución" And they woudn't let me ride it...because the restraint wouldn't come down over my breasts enough. Seriously. People bigger than me in ever other way had no problems whatsoever.

Apparently the revolution will be fought by the flat-chested? No! The other half (or whatever portion we are) will rise up and demand fair treatment! Vive la revolución de los pechos grandes!

Labels: disney., travel/tourism.

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Well, my sister was here. And my two nephews. And my brother-in-law, with his aunt and niece. The six of them, my parents, and John and I stayed at a Best Western across the street from Disneyland and spent Tuesday and Wednesday in the parks. We went all over LA, criss-cross style, for the two days we weren't in Disneyland. They left on Friday.

On Friday, I was totally, as my dad would say, bummed. That night though, we went to the Hollywood Bowl and saw Garrison Keillor and A Prairie Home Companion. And that was really cool. One of the show's guests was Maude Maggart, who sang songs like "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" and "Moon River," which I really enjoyed. (I found out later that she's Fiona Apple's sister.) Also in the line-up were Old Crow Medicine Show (they were probably my favorite), Leo Kottke, and Karan Casey. And, of course, the rest of the skits and music that are usually on the show. It was a lot of fun.

I'd talk more about my sister...but I don't want to get all mopey again.

Labels: company., disney., family., travel/tourism.

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In lieu of actual money for all the typing I did for him, my boss let me have a print that's been hanging in the store since before I started working there.

Oh yeah...the store where I work, which sells new and used books, also sells art (prints, originals, posters, some sculpture, etc.).

The print is a reproduction of the Horizons Pavilion mural from the now-defunct Horizons attraction at Disneyworld. Sadly, Horizons was my favorite attraction in all of WDW...and now it's gone. What's cool about this particular print though is that it's signed by the artist, Bob McCall, and used to belong to imagineer and all-around cool guy John Hench. It's super fancy-pants pretty. And since John and I went to Disneyworld for our honeymoon and some of my favorite family vacations when I was a kid were when we went there, it's like we hung happy memories on the wall over our TV. And now all I want to do is look at our honeymoon photo album.

Labels: disney., me and the awesome things I like., work.

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I just put up a quick review of Who Will Run the Frog Hospital, which I finished yesterday. So. Good. (And the first review I've written in months, I realize.)


small world.

John and I have purchased some new shelves for our living room. I completely adore them. Tinkerbell and Ariel (yes, the mermaid) now have space to breathe...that is, they would have space to breathe, if they weren't made out of resin.

We went to Disneyland today. (I am so in love with this man who suggests we spend an entire day in the one place in the world where I act like more of a child than he does.) And we took oooodles of pictures. But I'm not putting them up until I can figure out a way to make their file sizes reasonable. My laptop's resolution is 1600 x 1200. All pictures look amazing to me. I get all sad and whiny when I have to make them look all pixelated to get the file size down. I'll get over it.

Labels: books., disney., John., travel/tourism.

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I spent my night typing old love letters my boss got in the 60's from a girl he didn't end up marrying...and watching The Muppets Take Manhattan. I just noticed, while looking for the best site to link, it was nominated for an Oscar for best original score in 1984. I had no idea. I felt sort of sad...what with this being a movie from my childhood and all...and there being a lot in it about friends splitting up and writing to each other and plotting out plans that might never happen.



The letters I was typing were pretty rough. Not poorly written or anything, just, well...I think I probably wrote letters sort of like that to guys I didn't marry either...and I can't imagine someone, someday, forty years from now getting paid to retype them.



The 80's weren't good for Miss Piggy. Huge teased hair just doesn't work for pigs. Have you seen her in that shampoo commercial? Disney has fully owned the muppets for, what? A couple of months? And they've already done ads for Pizza Hut and some shampoo.

And the quote of the day:
"Because you share a love so big, I now pronounce you frog and pig."

Labels: childhood., disney., movies., work.

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John and I celebrated our first wedding anniversary on Monday. (Pictures of the wedding can be found in the photos section.) To celebrate, we spent the day at Disneyland, including dinner at the Blue Bayou.

When we came home, we followed tradition and ate the top of our wedding cake. Which tasted like cardboard. So, we had about two bites each and threw the rest away.

What a weird tradition. And kind of gross, really.

Tomorrow is the anniversary of my grandfather's death. He died while I was in Florida on my honeymoon.

I remember sitting in the MGM Studios park, eating lunch in the section that looks like Hollywood in the 40's. There are fake ads around for Kodak film that are supposed to look "vintage". So they're paintings. Somehow Norman Rockwell type paintings were supposed to sell film. Anyway, by the time we were leaving Florida, the big story was that Kodak was laying off about 15,000 people. Because they were going to go digital.

And my grandfather was dead, I found out, just before the fireworks started on our night in the Magic Kingdom. Will they advertise digital photography with strange, nostalgic images of film cans and people with jobs?

When I sat there by palm trees and stucco, with the sounds of Glen Miller being piped out of rock-shaped speakers, I pictured my grandfather working in his in LA or standing in his WWII Coast Guard Uniform on the beach somewhere in Hawaii...somewhere where there are green plants with large, broad leaves. He's still, watching the water, but tapping his foot to some new big band song.

He was already dead when I was thinking that, but I didn't know until the following night.

Labels: disney., family., John.

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There's a guy at work who's even more into Disneyland than my family and I are. We talked Disney yesterday and he told me about a couple of neat websites about the park and people who are crazy into preserving it.

And it's weird for me to talk about Eisner. John being John, I know Disney has been having problems. Like, for example, when we were on our honeymoon in Walt Disney World and we toured what was then the recently defunct Florida animation studio. It is no longer "recently" defunct. Now it's just gone. Like the money they spent making Treasure Planet and Brother Bear.

But I still think of Michael Eisner as the guy with the red and black Mickey ties who did the spots after commercial breaks on "The Wonderful World of Disney."

He seemed like such a nice guy. A bad actor, but a nice guy. And now that I'm older, I find out that he's really shady and a capitalist nightmare.

Which is basically the same realization I came to about Ronald Reagan, who, when I was six, seemed dignified and righteous.

Labels: childhood., disney., friends.

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My mom left today.

We've been looking through my grandmother's things. There are about seven huge boxes full of pictures waiting for me to sort. The dining room is covered in glass pieces that need to be packed in bubble wrap and sent out to other people. I have two boxes of...stuff...with my name on them.


Disneyland, July 19, 1969; My grandmother on left.

I don't know when Mom is going to come back. We went to Disneyland Saturday. Had. A. Blast. I felt like I was ten years old. John and I now have our annual passes. I can go back anytime.

Labels: disney., family.

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