The Accidental Olympian

CLOSED CAPTION

How many of you have gotten really into a movie series? There are a multitude of them out there. Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, American Pie. 

I know you all were waiting anxiously for that third movie to come out weren't you? Or the 5th. Or the 7th that went straight to DVD. What a franchise I tell you! 

Anyway, it's no surprise that I was stoked beyond the limits for the final Harry Potter movie to arrive. In anticipation of this amazing literary tale coming to it's cinematic end I reread the entire Harry Potter series in about a month. Adam thought I was a nerd, I was in heaven. 

So after reading all the books I finally declared it was time. We could now see the movie I'd been waiting for. 

You guys, I was STOKED. 

So on a lazy Sunday Adam and I picked a time. We headed to the theater and I nearly skipped to the counter to squealed, "Two tickets for the 1:30 Harry Potter please!" only to be told it had been sold out. 

LAME. 

But, we soldiered on, I whipped out that handy dandy smart phone of mine and purchased tickets to another theater a few hours later. I had planned to see Harry Potter that day, and by God I was not stopping until I did! 

A few hours later we're at the other theater, this time with tickets in hand. 

Again I'm just giddy with excitement, I'm finally going to see this series I love so much come to an end. 

We get our snacks, find ok seats, and snuggle in. 

The previews end and that haunting Harry Potter music that literally gives me chills begins to play. 

I am actually in mid turn, my head is swerving, my body shifting, and I am in the process of giving Adam's arm a dramatic squeeze coupled with a face scrunch and irritating squeal of excitement when something catches my eye. 

"dramatic music plays, building"

HUH?

I stop. Adam and I look at each other. 

Was that??????

Our eyes dart back to the screen to see if that weird yellow font will appear again. There is quiet for a moment, and I'm praying that as the camera pulls towards Harry just finishing burying Dobby the elf that when Harry speaks I will NOT be seeing that yellow writing again. Suddenly, 

"waves crash in the distance"

Quickly followed by the loudest whisper in America, ADAM WE'RE IN A CLOSED CAPTION MOVIE!!!!

I wanted to believe it wasn't so. I got out my ticket where it said no such thing about closed captioning, and I was even so outraged I bolted out of the movie to the customer service counter where they informed me that "Open Caption Showtimes" or "OCS" stood for closed captioning. 

Which ok, the full wording makes sense, but on my smart phone when I ordered the tickets all I saw was "OCS" and without the breakdown, HOW IN THE HELL WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW WHAT THAT STOOD FOR? Did you know this? Have I been living under a rock? 

Anyway, I returned to the movie, irritated as all hell, ready to pull us from the showing and return the following weekend. But then I remembered how lazy I am, and how I'd already eaten half the bag of popcorn and half my starbursts, and to leave would mean we just downed all this junk food without the movie coma to go along with it. Plus, we still would have to come back and try to see the movie another weekend! 

So we stayed. Through every musical scene punctuated with things like, "haunting female voice sings in the distance" and lovely additives like, "dramatic sigh."

WHICH I would like to say completely destroy anything dramatic or climactic about any scene. Each time we saw one of those musical notations any suspense was gone, romance squashed, drama killed and instead we'd look at each other and giggle. 

Plus, turns out close captioning likes to point out weird shit going on in the background that isn't relevant to ANYTHING. In a few scenes there would be large groups of people in the background and when main characters would have a break in dialog you'd hear a mumble. Obviously this mumble is not something crucial to the scene and yet closed captioning was ON IT. Suddenly,

"I think I've singed my pants." 

WHAT? Why did I need to know this? Who needs to know this? If the hearing audience didn't need to understand this sentence, then you don't need to tell the hearing impaired audience that the guy in the back of the room sitting on the floor that no one even knows who he is, singed his pants. Really, I think we can skip that one!

Let me just tell you that if I'd not only read all those books before seeing this movie AND waited in line for the midnight showing and ended up in dramatic closed captioning land I might have stabbed someone. 

Or just sat through it and been extra pouty. 

Either way, be wary of OCS. Unless of course you're looking for a good laugh. Then by all means see the movie labeled OCS. I'm sure it would make romantic comedies or C level dramas a real hoot.

PROOF THAT READING BLOGS IS GOOD FOR YOU

I read a lot of blogs.

This is what happens when you blog yourself. You amass all these other bloggy friends that read your work, and you read them, and before you know it there is a huge chunk of people that you know all sorts of personal information about that you've never even met.

One of the things I like about all these online stranger-friends is that they tell me things I might like.

You should buy this!

You should read this!

You should watch this!

And I cry back, "OK blog best friends!"

Because even though I work in marketing, I'm really gullible and do whatever people tell me.

I mean, I have Geico car insurance, because they have the best commercials.

I know, it's sad really.

I just really love that little gecko.



So this weekend some of my bloggy suggestions really paid off. And now I'd like to further influence you via the strangeness that is taking suggestions from people you trust, yet have never and and most likely will never meet.


Firstly, stop what you are doing, go to the nearest Trader Joe's, and buy the chocolate croissants found in the desert section.

Holly of Nothing But Bonfires suggested these beauties a while ago, and I finally took her up on her suggestion. Of course, as I was serving these DELICIOUS, crumbly, fantastic tasting morsels to my guest Saturday morning I had to do the uncomfortable thing where someone who blogs explains to people who don't blog that I bought these croissants because someone I blog stalk told me to, I mean no she didn't actually directly tell ME to buy them, but she wrote this post about how good they were, so I saw them at the store and thought we'd try them, and please stop looking at me like that. Here! Eat something tasty!

I tend to approach those situations exactly in that fashion. Talk fast, mumble a lot, and quickly hand my highly confused amigo an item of food or beverage to distract them.

Works like a charm.




The second blogger recommendation I took and now pass to you is I went and saw The Town on Sunday. I read suggestions from Laurie of Crazy Aunt Purl AND New Teacher {Finally} New Wife so I knew I was in for a good time. PLUS, Ben was looking fantastic in the previews, and Adam also read a review from some geeky movie review blog that it was a fantastic movie, so coupled with all that blog love PLUS hottie Ben McTastyness, I was in.

Thankfully the internet and my crush on Ben all delivered.

People, see that movie.

If you like action, and bank robbing, with a little love story thrown in, but not all predictable and corny, plus you also enjoy looking at Ben do pull ups then this is the movie for you.

I never pay to see movies, because wow that's expensive, and I can never get comfortable in those damn seats no matter how tricked out the theater is, and I'm always worried I'm going to kick the seat in front of me, plus crossing my legs for two hours or more always makes my knees hurt for some reason, but The Town was worth it.

I left wanting to finally find a way to be with my love Ben, felt a strong desire to go on a vacation to Boston, and thought I might have a calling as a bank robber or member of a crime family. All options will do.




See, the internet is not simply a tool to help you waste an afternoon.

It changes lives and helps you realize your dreams.

Like how you'd be a kick ass bank robber and really should be with Ben Affleck.

THE PART WHERE REALITY BITCH SLAPS ME IN THE FACE

When friends of mine realized I'd never experienced the American tradition of going to the drive-in, they declared I must pop my drive-in cherry IMMEDIATELY! Being an idealist I jumped at the idea of a picturesque 1950's throwback drive-in movie night. I quickly located a theater near Olympia, assembled a cast of characters, and welcomed this trip into the past. The one closest to us was not your megaplex drive-in theater they're building today. This was a serious step back into the 50's. I'm talking pine trees lining the edges, gravel parking spaces, a decrepit screen, hand painted signs, and even the remnants of those drive up window speakers straight out of 'Leave it to Beaver.' I loved it! Or so I thought.

Seeing as I've never been to the drive-in, I figured this was going to be magical, a trip into the past when life was simple and women wore pearls to vacuum, while secretly developing pain med addictions. I had a sun dress on, packed a light sweater, and brought along a little scarf, just in case. How adorable it would all be! We'd sit in the back of the truck, snuggle next to our sweethearts, cop a feel under the blankets, sip on our beverages, and giggle along to our drive-in movie. And sure the fantasy land I'd conjured in my mind lasted for a while, but then reality set in. Like a fucking ton of bricks.

Once the sun set, it was no longer warm. At all. Even a little bit. The 85 degree weather from the day was replaced with maybe high 50's. I am no longer snuggling with my honey because I am literally trying to climb into his lap to absorb all of his body heat. Seeing as Adam wasn't exactly thrilled at the idea of two people attempting to share a camping chair I quickly resorted to stealing the flimsy blanket we had both been sharing. Which was great for me because now I had something to wrap around my entire body, but Adam, well he was left to fend against the mosquitoes the old fashioned way. And when I say 'old fashioned way' I mean the way where you suck it up and just get bit. By the end of the night I had my ENTIRE body curled into a ball in my camping chair, squirming around every five minutes attempting to find some conceivable way to get comfortable. Ever seen a grown woman curl into a ball in a camping chair? It's NOT pretty. There I was, thrashing around in my chair, with a scarf over my head, trying with all my might to will the night to end before I just gave up and burst into tears.

A double movie feature sounded so fucking precious when I was reading it online. "Look babe! Two movies for less than the price of one! Under the stars! How fucking adorable! I hope June Cleaver is there to serve us all hot cocoa!" No. She's not. She's at home, wearing her pearls and laughing at you while you attempt to shove your entire body into a five dollar camping chair under your pathetic blanket because you're an idiot and live in a land of make believe where unicorns bring you refreshments and fairies will keep you warm with the patter of their delicate wings.

At the end of it all I returned home at 2am, freezing, with a crink in my neck, frozen toes, a bruise the size of a silver dollar on my shins from the chair, and in a terrible terrible mood. Sure, it's probably all my own fault that I had a shit time. I could have been more prepared, or snapped out of my fantasy world and acted like an adult for a change. But that would be WAY too easy. I like to blame others for my misfortunes. Instead of being wrong it's much more enjoyable to exclaim to the universe that I knew all along that there was a reason that I never went to the drive-in movies. Because they're lame. Really, really fucking lame.   

SOMEWHERE JODI PICOULT IS CRYING INTO HER CEREAL

ME: "My Sister's Keeper, two thumbs way down."

LP: "But you cried through the whole thing."

ME: "Yeah... only because I am completely ridiculous and cry while watching '16 and Pregnant.'"

LP: "Ohhhhhhhhh. Because that makes it rational."

ME: "Exactly."