Juno and the Stomach Flu

Dear Reader,

I've been MIA due to a lovely stomach bug that had me wretching my guts out. Eww. I took a day off of work and laid around. I watched five hours of "Project Runway." It did help me feel a little better to watch some dreams get crushed. The downside is I now know way too much about chiffon and must be shot.

I've been having a blog war with myself over what to name this stupid thing. I think this might be one of those situations in which my capacity for over-thinking actually created the problem I'm now trying to solve. And I imagine this identity crisis is about as exciting for you as it was to watch John Stewart devote an entire show to the writer's strike. Stimulating.

I saw "Juno" with Jess on Saturday. It was a little "thank God I can leave the apartment without attaching a toilet to my ass" party, and I absolutely loved it. It took me awhile to translate modern teen-speak into something I could relate to, i.e "gob"="piehole", but after a few minutes I was in the swing of it. The language is actually one of the great joys of this little movie. That, and realizing that those incredibly hormonal and emotionally exhausting days are mercifully behind you. I've never been more glad not to be a teenager. It was a passionate time. The smallest things seemed like the world, but I realize now it felt that way because everything reverberates louder off the walls of a high-school. I like it better now. Your twenties are like being a teenager only with less angst and more money.

Though apparently the kids today have a lingo. I miss having a lingo. And you can't go up to someone and ask for a lingo. That's just silly.

So, I was delighted that I didn't come out of "Juno" feeling more like a parent than a moviegoer. That's when I'll know I've crossed that line of no return. I am a little creeped out, however, that I find myself relating more to the adults in movies. I swore to a younger version of myself that I wouldn't forget what it was like to be 18, how I saw the world, what really mattered. Of course it was a promise I couldn't keep, which is why this blog is cool, preserving events and my thoughts of them for years to come. But I remember somewhat. I felt much more entitled to success. Diablo II was the greatest video game ever created. The day-old three-cookies-for-99-cents at 7/11 was the breakfast of champions. The late-night drive was the ultimate act of freedom. Phone conversations should last a minimum of three hours. The best way to find yourself was to get lost. Who will protect the memory of those times unless we collect what we remember and inscribe it somewhere safe? And how do you grow up and not lose what was important, what was hopeful, what was vital and optimistic and never dimming?

The advantage of the older worldview is that I see things I would have missed otherwise, or perceive complexities that would otherwise go unnoticed. And I can still summon a sense of wonder. Jess and I watched "Transformers" at home and I seriously uttered, "Oh my God, that is so fucking cool!" like seven times during the movie. Don't know what it is about transforming cars with guns that is so damn cool.

Actually I think I just answered my own question. Cars+spacerobots+guns=I win.