Movie Review

I LOVE watching movies. I love going to the movies, love staying in to watch movies, even love cuddling in my bed watching movies on my ipad via netflix. I like comedies, romance, thrillers, dramas, and the occassional scary movie. When hearing how many award nominations 'Black Swan' has been receiving, I was dying to see what all the hype was about. Having danced when I was younger, and who didn't love 'Center Stage'?, I was very interested in the plot. However, I guess I didn't really know all that much about the plot. After dragging little Dares to attend the weird, often sadistic film, I was left unsatisfied and displeased. Between trying to decipher dreams from reality, and live actors from dead, the abundance of blood really turned me off. Definitely not the worst movie I've ever seen, but definitely not one I'd recommend either.


On a lighter note, the third of the 'Fockers' trilogy is sure to bring some chuckles. After viewing 'Little Fockers' last night, I'm back on the bandwagon with 'The 1st is Always the Best'. If you need some light-hearted, mindless entertainment and don't mind excessive sexual innuendos, it's a great flick. That said, it doesn't compare to the first or even second 'Focker' comedy.

To climb steep hills requires a slow pace at first.
Shakespeare

A Tribute to Walking History

Being Veteran's Day, I would like to dedicate this post to one of my few cherished heroes in this world, my grandfather: RG Baker. My grandpa served in World War 2 starting at the ripe age of 18 years old. While he, like many of his fellow vets, seldom discusses these years of his life, he is part of history. His generation is dwindling and all of the memories and information they hold are slowly disappearing with them. While we've all learned about the past, specifically the war, from text books, I strongly feel that these depictions do not hold a candle to the stories these men & women carry with them. I am eternally grateful for the small tidbits my grandpa has shared with me thus far and look forward to any and all other accounts he may share with me in the future. My grandpa is one of a kind. The very best kind. And today we celebrate all of the many men & women who have fought, continue to fight, and will fight for our country.

While this photo is not an actual shot of RG, it depicts his duty during the war which was chosen due to his small size.

“Do not follow where the path may lead. Go instead where there is no path and leave a trail” – Ralph Waldo Emerson

The Secret

I have recently had the opportunity to read "The Secret". I have had the book recommended to me several times and have just never made it my top priority to read. I had no idea what type of book it was, and never really looked into it. However, after just completing it this week, I am happy that I finally made it my perogative.
"The Secret" may be classified as a 'self-help' book. It's a bit spiritual, a little out there, but definitely noteworthy. "The Secret" discusses the idea of the Law of Attraction in relation to our thoughts. We attract like thoughts. Therefore, when we think negative things, or think about what we do not wish to occur, we are just attracting all this doubt and negativity back to us. When we think positively, or think about achieving all the goals we have set for ourselves, we attract more positive thoughts that yeild positive results. While I was a bit skeptical upon first diving into this read, I know that I have received some valuable teachings and plan to implement them into my life starting today. I would also recommend this book to anyone, and have even passed it off to one lucky friend already.

ice cream monsters

They say a young woman is attracted to men who portray similar traits to her father. I never really chose to believe this theory. My father, while he is one of my few heroes, is quiet, reserved, often distant and never bubbly. I am most attracted to humor, wit and intimacy. However, little by little, I am starting to realize that my current love interest displays more and more parallels to my father.
While my boyfriend's exceedingly hairy chest is the most obvious connection to my father's own "fur coat", there are very peculiar likenesses rising to the surface, the most recent one being their love affair with ice cream.
From the time i turned 16 to the day I left home for college, a minimum of 4 weekdays each week, between the hours of 7 and 830 pm, my father would summon me with the whispering phrase, "Hey dane dane, how bout some ice cream." While the obvious fix, for some, would be to head into the kitchen and dish out a heaping scoop of the vanilla ice cream always present in our house, his favorite daughter knew this was not his wish. He wanted soft serve, and he wanted it from Dairy Queen. He wanted one medium sized chocolate sundae with pecans to be exact. And on the off-chance that I would come home bearing 'hot fudge' on his sundae instead of 'chocolate sauce' I knew the outcome would be my trek back across town to correct his specific order. No cherries, no whip cream, no bullshit. I knew the drill. I also knew that I had created a minute income for myself throughout these years as I was given a $10 bill each night even though his sundae was around $3 and we both knew I would be keeping the change.
Many years later, while I have been far removed from dad's nightly routine, I have lately found myself in the middle of a new one. While his summoning phrase is slightly different, and his order not alike, my boyfriend has now also made me his DQ girl.

Sista Sista

Standing 2' tall, with pudgy freckled cheeks and a squeeky chipmonk voice to match, my younger sister looked up to me. From the day she was born I knew I had an everlasting playmate, one I could boss around and convince to do just about anything. She would play school with me, but she was never allowed to be the teacher. She would play store, but was never allowed to handle the cash. She would play house, but had to be the nanny. I wanted to be the teacher, the cashier, the mom. She just wanted my attention. So she played along.
Dara and I had a lot of fun growing up together. We coreographed dance routines and made up trampoline jumps. We wore matching outfits and shared inside jokes. We invented games, such as spoon balloon.
Dara eventually lost her chipmonk cheeks and gained a real person voice. While I always denied her the priviledge of sitting in the front seat, I always have admired her. She has a way of lifting my spirits when I'm down. She understands my personal struggles and is one of my go-to sources for advice. She always laughs at my ridiculous jokes and brushes off my moody tendencies. She's still my biggest fan.
Dares is hilarious. Shes intelligent. She always knows the right thing to say. She's athletic and artsy. She plays the world's greatest air guitar. She's not fond of children but has a passion for puppies and dogs. She's dedicated. She's already had great success in her young 18 years. She's humble. She's corky. She really enjoys her alonetime. She seldom has a bad day. She's beautiful. She dances like a fool but without a care in the world.
And while she's still my younger sister, now I look up to her.