A Chat With Elizabeth

So, February has basically been a flaming turd storm.

That being said, I've been spending a lot of time with my favorite human (me) and trying to give each of those poo nuggets a silver lining.  Easier said than done, my friends.  I am the high reigning empress of motivating pep talks, especially for myself, but at this point a Hall's cough drop wrapper is probably more inspirational.

During my free time this past month, I had decided to embark on a quest.  Not a journey of self-realization or spiritual peace.  Oh no.  The most pressing matter in my life had suddenly become finding Outrage!, the official Tower of London board game, which my dad and I had purchased on one of our British excursions.  PLEASE NOTE: I haven't played this game in years.  I haven't SEEN this game in years.  And why I have had a violently abrupt need to play this particular game is largely outside my understanding.

But I knew I could find it.  I HAD to find it.  It must exist somewhere within the confines of my parents' house!  Or so I though.  My parents made a fine effort in aiding me.  They asked me if I looked with all the other board games (I had), helped me sift through perilously packed trunks and chests, and basically poked around.  It was an ill-fated mission, though.  Mom confessed she didn't even remember the game, and if MOM doesn't know where it is, let alone WHAT it is...?

DOOMED!  That game might as well had never made it back to the States.

All of this is beside the point.

The POINT is that while I was tearing through every box in our attic and basement looking for that dratted game, I came across a veritable trove of childhood memorabilia.  There were even things completely unrelated to The Wizard of Oz.  Not a ton, but some.  (I don't think anyone will ever truly fathom the amount of Oz merchandise I own.)  There were elementary school projects and drawings, plus an assortment of half-forgotten toys.  As I was reading through the words written by my former self, marveling at the fact that no one thought it necessary to correct my backward "s's", I began to wonder what single digit Elizabeth would think about twenty-something Elizabeth.

So I decided to have a little chat with her.  You know, just to get a little perspective.  I know the number one rule of time travel is to never cross your own timeline (duh), but I figured I'd let it slide, just this once.

Let's say that Former Elizabeth (FE) is somewhere in the eight to ten range.

FE: Gah!  OUR HAIR!!!

Present Elizabeth: What?

FE: It's all long and red!  We go red?

PE: Yup.

FE: Like Queen Elizabeth I?

PE: Yup.  And the Weasleys.

FE: Who are the Weasleys?

PE: Oh... you'll find out.

FE: Can't you just tell me?

PE: No.

FE: PLEASE?

PE: NO.

FE: FINE.  And glasses?

PE: For a while now.

FE: Oh man!  Maybe Mom was right about reading in the dark so much.  And sitting really close to the TV.  Did you try eating carrots?  They make your eyes better.

PE: Um... I don't know if they can cure nearsightedness.  But yes.  Plenty of carrots.

FE: Do we still eat them like a corn on the cob?  Carrots have a core, you know!

PE: Oh, I know!  And of course!  Is there any other way to eat a carrot?

FE: So... are we living in Paris?  Tell me we live in Paris.  We're an artist, living in Paris, and we speak fluent French!  Say something in French!  Wait, how old are you?  Say it in French!

PE: I'm 27, but we don't live in Pari...

FE: YOU'RE 27?!?!? AHHH!!!  WHY ARE YOU SO OLD?  AND SHORT!  WE WERE SUPPOSED TO BE TALL!  YOU'RE GOING TO DIE SOOOOOOOOOOOON!

PE: I'm not going to die soon!

FE: You might!

PE: I guess that's true.

FE: Why don't we live in Paris?

PE: Because I decided I wanted to be an actor in London instead.

FE: OOOOO!  Are we in London?!  Why don't you have a funny accent?

PE: We're not in London.

FE: I'm confused.

PE: We're not in London, we're in Oak Park.

FE: But WHY aren't we in London?

PE: Because laws and money are a thing you're going to have to come to terms with.

FE: Ick.

PE: Tell me about it.

FE: So what DO we do?

PE: Currently?  Well, we get at job at Greenfield Village...

FE: WHAT?!?  Really?!?  That's where we work??  We actually do it?!  I've always wanted to work at Greenfield Village!  Yay!  I like you!

PE: Yeah!  It's super fun!  I get to sing and dance and...

FE: We don't dance.

PE: We learn to kind of dance.

FE: That's weird.

PE: Trust me, we had to try to learn to dance.

FE: But I like sports.

PE: I know, but we can make money by dancing, not by playing sports.  Because we're a girl.

FE: Girls still don't get professional sports?!?  That's not fair!  Stupid future.

PE: Super stupid.  So we learned to tap dance.  It was fun!

FE: No tutu?

PE: No tutu.

FE: Poofum.

PF: BAHAHAHAHAHAHA, I totally forgot we used to say that!

FE: So we make lots of money at Greenfield Village?

PE: Well... let's just say I have another job or two.

FE: Like what?

PE: I get to go into elementary schools and do assemblies about creative writing!

FE: You're an assembly person!?  Assemblies are the best!  Assemblies are only topped by field trips!  WHICH IS YOUR OTHER JOB.  You are living the best part of school EVERY DAY.  No one ever picks me for assemblies.

PE: Yes, but now WE get to do the picking!  HA!

FE: So... why don't you still live at home?  I mean, you live really close to home, why not AT home?  Home is nice!

PE: Uh... living here is better for everyone.  And Mom redid our room.

FE: NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!  How could she!  Nothing is ever supposed to change EVER!!!!!!!

PE: Want to see my room?

FE: Maybe...

PE: Come on!

FE: Oooo!  It's yellow!  Like our aura!  And you still have lots of Wizard of Oz stuff!  And Sara Doll! Why is she naked?

PE: Because I lost her clothes.

FE: We should be more careful.

PE: We really should.

FE: I love our bed.

PE: BED IS THE BEST.

FE: Do we still like cookies?

PE: COOKIES ARE THE BEST.

FE: Good.  You may be old, but at least you still know what's important.

PE: Gee.  Thanks.  Hey, did we always hate people, or is that a new thing?

FE: Remember how we used to tell Dad, "No questions!" in the morning?  Or that we used to pretend to be asleep at slumber parties because we didn't want to talk to anyone?  Or that we wonder why EVERYONE in class always has to make such poor decisions?

PE: Okay.  Not a new thing.

FE: So, anything else exciting?

PE: I'm auditioning for Disney!  And I'm thinking about moving to Washington, D.C. ...

FE: THOSE ARE MY TWO FAVORITE PLACES!  Do that!

PE:  Haha, okay.

And at the risk of running on forever (because I'm pretty sure I could), I think I'm going to stop there.  I think that Former Elizabeth would be totally geeked about my current life.  Sure, as we grow up we realize that life is more complicated and way harder/fulfilling than what we had anticipated.  I've been feeling very underwhelmed by my present state, but knowing that I've stayed pretty true to who I've always been feels really good.  I liked who I was as a kid, and I think Former Elizabeth wouldn't be too disgusted by who I have become and what road I'm on.

Here's to a better March.

The Great Debate

Recently, the subject has been broached about whether or not glow stars are "adult appropriate".

Glow stars.  You know the ones.  They're plastic.  They glow.  THEY.  ARE.  AWESOME.

So, you may understand my confusion when two of my loved ones, on separate occasions, related to me their love of glow stars, but their hesitancy to adorn their personal spaces with them because they "Didn't want anyone to see them" or "They didn't go with the 'clean, modern look' they were striving for."

I'm going to approach these two statements separately.

Why would you put up glow stars if you didn't want people to see them?  Why wouldn't you want people to see your glow stars?  Why would you let anyone into your dark bedroom if they are the kind of human who would judge a person for having glow stars?  If nothing else, your glow stars could serve as a litmus test for the people you have in your life.  Say someone comes into your room and declares your glow stars to be juvenile, they have officially revealed him or herself as lame/uninteresting/completely lacking in the joie de vivre department.  You can then proceed to kick them out and be better for it.  On the flip side, if said person enters your living quarters and exclaims with verve how much they love your glow stars… well, wouldn't you rather spend time with that person?  Yeah.  Me, too.

On to the second opposition to glow stars.  "They don't go with the decor, or the 'feel', I'm going for."  Let me clear something up.  The point of glow stars is that they glow.  Which means you notice/enjoy them when the lights are OFF.  Do you know how much "decor" you can see when the lights are off?  Not much.  Sure, if you stick the stars on a wall that's painted any color besides white, you'll see the stars in the daylight, but if that's an issue, just go with the traditional ceiling placement.  If you have a ceiling that is painted a non-traditional color, that's awesome and your awesome room probably needs some glow stars.  And again, how many people are really going to be in your bedroom?  (Don't answer that.)

I think what I'm trying to get at here is that your bedroom is your space.  (Unless you're married/living with your significant other, but maybe they secretly want glow stars, too, and are afraid to tell you!)  Why would you let the opinions of other dissuade you from adorning your walls or ceiling with exactly what you want?  Come on, this is your sanctuary.  This is where you go to relax, recoup, reenergize, or just get away from it all.  Do glow stars make you happy?  Do they fill you with a sense of peace and wonder as you drift off to sleep?  

Maybe there is a little voice in your head that is telling you, "Don't do it.  You liked glow stars when you were a kid.  Obviously, you're an adult now.  Adults aren't supposed to like glow stars.  Grow up, already.  Come to Grown-Uptopia, land of sophistication and happily ever afters."

LIES.

Do me a favor, kill that tiny, heinous, fibbing voice.  That voice is the source of great misery.  What makes you think that just because you liked something when you were six, or nine, or 18 (you know you had glow stars in your dorm room) that you are forbidden to like it anymore.  Do you trust the judgment of bitty you so little?  I had great taste as a child.  I liked The Wizard of Oz, going to the DIA, and eating Mom's homemade cookies.  Guess what I still like.  That's right.  The Wizard of Oz, going to the DIA, and eating Mom's homemade cookies.  Sure, my taste has evolved and broadened.  For example, I now order food other than chicken fingers and mashed potatoes when I go out to eat.  But that doesn't mean I throw out things from my childhood.  Or try to make myself/my surroundings more "adult" because I am firmly ensconced in my mid-twenties.  Where's the fun in that?

Honestly, I think people should stop trying to be adult, and focus more on being effective human beings.  Do glow stars keep you from being an adult?  Probably.  But they don't keep you from holding down a job, being fiscally responsible, paying your taxes and your insurance, dealing with that crappy co-worker/client in a professional manner, calling your family, or being there for your friends when they need you.  In fact, glow stars make all those things a little easier.