Center part

I think it all started when I parted my hair down the middle last Monday.

Before Monday, I don't think I had parted my hair down the center, well, probably since I was 11.

Sure, I've swapped which side my part is on. And over the years it has progressively gotten further and further from center. But it has been years since I went with a symmetrical center part. A side part has just become habit. 

(As a side note, give or take 6 inches, and minus a brief stint with bangs and some auburn hair dye, my hair has been the exact same for 15 years.)

So, I was standing in front of the mirror Monday morning, and I was feeling restless. Restless with my boring job. Restless with my waning Portland social life. Restless with my apartment on hipster alley. And restless with that stupid side part that's inching towards my ear. In what alllllmost felt like an act of rebellion, I took my comb, lined it up with my nose, and slid it through the center of my scalp, painfully separating hair that hadn't shifted direction in years. After some blow dryer coaxing, I walked out the door. 

Now, what I want to write next is that this center part looked amazing and changed everything. That it somehow reinvigorated my life with meaning and connection and hair identity. 

But instead, it looked awkward. Like D.J. Tanner (circa 1992) meets Kristen Stewart pre fame kind of awkward. I was incredibly conscious of it the entire day, trying to catch glimpses of it in mirrors and windows to assure myself that it wasn't actually that crazy. And it seemed to act as a catalyst for the weirdest week ever. Like a friend put Baby on in the car [yes, I'm talking Bieber], and it felt like my jam, and I sang every word passionately [it's amazing how those words just flow back to me], and I went to a movie by myself for the first time, and I've been eating a really odd amount of Chex.

It's been a week, and I think normalcy is finally coming back around. I'm back to a side part for the time being.

Hi, I'm Kimberly. Hi, I'm Janice.

I'm trying to force myself to blog today.

Over the past couple months, I've gotten into a really good blogging routine, and I don't want to lose my momentum. But I've been sitting in front of my computer for an hour and a half, and my mind is drawing a blank. Then writing that reminded me of the You've Got Mail scene where Meg emails Tom about drawing a blank while trying to insult the "bottom dweller who recently belittled [her] existence."

Then I had to try to find that scene on Youtube. And then I started brainstorming all of my favorite You've Got Mail scenes (of which there are many), and started trying to decide if I like the "lone reed" scene better than the "don't they know they're supposed to have a last name" scene. But really, why choose? 

It has clearly been a productive evening. 

I started two blog posts. However, I only wrote one sentence of each before I realized that one sentence was exactly everything that I had to say on the subject. First, I was going to blog about my recent Craigslist acquisition. For some reason, I wanted to start it in a foreboding way, so I wrote the following sentence: "I broke the cardinal rule of Craigslist: I responded to a posting and went to a man's apartment in downtown Portland completely alone." After staring at that sentence for at least 20 minutes (and by "stare" I mostly mean I slowly wandered away from the blogger tab, and meandered onto my Pinterest bookmark. Then the Askmormongirl bookmark. And Hello Giggles). And then I came back and read my Craigslist sentence, felt a sinking feeling (it was somewhere between the first sentence of a really crappy mystery novel, and an entry from a 10th grader's creative writing journal), and immediately deleted it. Then I started typing about Pinterest. Real stream of consciousness stuff, hoping that something amazing and insightful would boil to the surface. All my English teachers lied to me--free writing sucks. 

Deleted that too. 

Then I turned to a tried-and-true method of prewriting: I googled "I'm sitting in front of my computer trying to think of something to blog about, and nothing is coming to mind. What should I do?" Which is how I ended up on the 195 Hilarious and Inspirational Facebook Status Updates. Which was clearly written and compiled by 14-year-olds. 

This made me sad to be human, and sucked all of the writing life out of me. But at least we can all sleep easy knowing that the following is one of the most inspirational Facebook status updates ever: "I must be addicted to smiling and laughing. I don't believe I've ever said to someone, 'Please don't do or say anything funny, I'm just not in the mood for happiness right now!'"

Thanks, Kimberly! Or was it Janice?

Entertainment Ennui

Last night at 10:30 I was sitting at my computer browsing my parents' Netflix subscription. Oddly, I wanted a break from TV and desperately wanted to watch a good movie. By good, I mean something mindless with beautiful people, or fashionable clothes, or, at the very least, something I hadn't seen before. I scanned through the romance and comedy genres and clicked through Starz Play. The same four movies kept showing up over and over: Notting Hill, Never Been Kissed, Morning Glory, and You Again. Not in the mood, too dated, I hate Diane Keaton, and not worth seeing again.

When a classic like Notting Hill doesn't sound appealing, I know it's going to be impossible to settle on a movie that I'll actually finish. It's impossible because when I'm in a restless viewing mood what I really want to watch is a magical romantic comedy starring Meg Ryan at her You've Got Mail prime, present-day Adam Scott, and present-day Ginnifer Goodwin all dressed like they work at a fashion magazine (Gossip Girl/Devil Wears Prada style) with supporting roles by present-day John Krasinski, any-time-in-her-career Amy Poehler, and Good Will Hunting Matt Damon with a screenplay written by Nora Ephron and Tina Fey. Since this movie doesn't exist (devastating), I had to settle on watching Disney's Prom.

Prom is a compelling tale of the four weeks leading up to high school prom. It stars Julie from Friday Night Lights as class president/AP star/prom organizer, a long-haired bad boy (think Heath Ledger in 10 Things I hate About You) as her unexpected(?) love interest, a perfect-and-overachieving-but-insensitive boy (think Freddie Prince Jr. in She's All That minus the mid-movie change of heart) as her flakey initial prom date, an awkward Neville Longbottom character as the token nerd who can't find a date, and a freshman Bieber-meets-Efron character who doesn't really have any place in the movie. Julie desperately wants Freddie Prince to ask her to prom. After all, they have been in AP classes and on student council together for as long as she can remember. They're MFEO. He asks her in an insultingly casual way (want to carpool to prom?) and then cancels last minute. Two weeks before prom, all the prom decorations burn in a fire (it really sounds like I'm making that up, doesn't it?), and bad boy's punishment for being a ruffian is to help Julie make new decorations. They work together, they fall in love, he has a heart, he gets cold feet because he thinks she's too good for him, but then he surprises her on prom night (gasp!). Neville takes his sister. Bieber-meets-Efron wins over a Selena Gomez sophomore by flipping his bangs. All-in-all it was thoroughly what I expected: a mediocre Disney take on the classic teen romance genre that was just half a step above Disney made-for-TV movies like Brink or Double Teamed. And yes, if I'm to be completely honest, I watched the whole thing.

And I could continue making fun of Prom to thoroughly convince you that I hated it and don't like watching cheesy, low-quality movies. Or, I could use the movie as a springboard to talk about my own prom experience in my purple dress with my date, Ben. But I'm not going to do either because I do like watching cheesy, low-quality movies, and my prom experience was super boring. Except the part where I almost vomited from the sideways ride in the limo.