tenth new thing...

woo hoo! it's my birthday week! i easily could have done a "my new thing for the week is turning 29", but instead of taking the easy way out, i actually decided to do something new as part of my 52 new things. thanks to the lovely k dub, *shout out*, we had tickets to see james blunt and the oh-so-adorable-possible-love-of-my-life sara bareilles at the tabernacle. now, i have already sung on stage with a major band (twice actually), so i couldn't do that as a new thing. but as for making requests, that is something new. so for my tenth new thing, i made a sign requesting a song at a concert.

we were a little late getting to the show (poster making and all) and there was a minor issue between my beloved laurel and another car in the parking garage. i had never hit a parked car before. moving cars? yes. inanimate objects, like concrete mailboxes? sure. but all of those incidences were in sally. and all over 8 years ago (no car accidents in 8 years! holler!), so i think under the circumstances, i handled it pretty well. no tears were shed. just simple disbelief of what i had done. and the fact that there was no real damage.

this was my first trip to the tabernacle, a venue that can best be described as a trashy cross between the ryman (music mecca, if you ask me) and an over-sized house of blues. it was interesting. seating in the balcony but general admissions craziness in the main level. a little something for everyone. the crowd was a decent size though it was apparent that most of the people there came to see james blunt. that's cool. more love for me to shower on ms. bareilles.

sara was amazing. you may be familiar with her uber-ubiquitous hit "love song" but i am proud to say i discovered her before almost anyone had ever heard of her (a song called "gravity" played on my pandora radio station one day and i started crying. so beautiful.) her album little voice accompanied me on my ipod to my first day of work at my new job in may of '07 and onto the buses and subways of nyc during my fourth of july visit later that year. i heart her. i didn't get many good pictures at the show for a couple of reasons. mostly, because i was too busy holding up my hot pink poster that said: hey sara b.! play a song for me. it's my b-day! (it wasn't big enough to put the name of the song "many the miles" but she played it anyway!). also, i was so excited most of the pictures were too blurry from my shaking hands and incessant jumping up and down. again, i heart her.

as for mr. blunt, he made a believer out of me. i must admit that when i first heard about the show i was disappointed that she would be playing with him. i mean, "you're beautiful" and "good-bye, my lover" are not the most uplifting songs in the history of music and i have some history attached to each (as, i am sure, many do). so the idea of having to stand there and listen to over an hour of melancholia made me want to poke my eyeballs out. and then he started playing. the boy is phat. political musings. upbeat selections. mad piano and guitar skills. honestly, i would totally see him again, even without sara b. on the bill. i left the show kinda sad i had missed the james blunt train back in the day. all in all, a stellar show.

*ps* i would be remiss if i did not mention curly haired gargantua standing in front of us at the show. she was quite possibly the most ridiculous sober concert goer i have ever had to deal with in my long concert going life. first of all, chick had no rhythm. literally none. it wasn't even like she was clapping on the 1 and the 3 when every one else was clapping on the 4 and the 8. bitch was clapping on the 5 1/2 and the 2 3/4. my musicology professor would have been pulling her hair out. (and we wouldn't want that, melanie.) second, she took her bra off ala flashdance about 5 minutes in to the show and proceeded to throw it on the stage at the only time james blunt had his back turned to us. he never saw it! and the rest of us had to listen to her yell between songs the whole rest of the night: "my bra! my BRA!" it was ridiculous. and mildly amusing. thankfully no one came to blows, though i feared for her life if she smacked kendra in the face with her nasty mane one more time.

*pps* here is a picture of the sign k dub made for trent of pink is the new blog. it didn't get featured the week i went to the show, but i thought it could stand in proxy for my other poster....which i forgot to get a picture of. dammit!

ninth new thing...

ok. so this week's installment of the 52 new things will be short and sweet. for several reasons.
reason #1: i have no documentation (e.g. "photographic evidence") of it occurring;
reason #2: it was sort of a last minute, whim-esque new thing;
reason #3: i'm slightly embarrassed because my parents read this blog.
but, alas, i will write about it anyway. for my 9th new thing, i did something that most people in the dating pool have certainly done before turning 29. i left my phone number for someone at a bar.

i should just leave it at that, but oddly enough, i feel the need to explain. my gbf chris and i headed out to a little mexican restaurant in little five points because we heard our favorite nashville lesbian musician would be in town. you know me, i try never to miss a jen foster show. we ate dinner at the place next door and then headed over to sabroso. sat down at the bar at 830 prepped for a 9 o'clock show that would surely have us home before 1030. we (and by "we", i mean "chris") introduced ourselves to the bartender, erin, and ordered a couple of beers. the bar was an interesting mix of lesbians, straights and gays, oh my. 9 came and went, 930 came and went. no sign of jen. at this point chris was getting annoyed. and i was holding several glasses of water and a couple of beers in my little body that wanted out. a trip to the ladies room was needed.

upon returning chris apparently had done some reconnaissance work. erin was single. and bored with the typical bar patron. and looking for a girl who knew how to put on makeup and straighten her hair. did i mention i flat-ironed my hair and put on mascara and lip gloss before leaving the house? i don't know why i thought it was a good idea to leave my business card with my signed credit card slip. i certainly wasn't drunk. and i had truly done a poor job of trying to chat her up all night. (in my defense, it was crowded and she was super busy...and i have no game.)

but the point of this year of 52 new things is to do not only new things but also things that push me out of my comfort zone. and i was certainly uncomfortable. it took several drafts of different "pick-up lines" on the back of my card to come up with the right one. we ended up going with the least original line in the history of mankind ("call me sometime") instead of my preferred statement ("i'd like to take you to dinner") because chris liked it better. and i defer to him when it comes to picking up strangers.

as for how this went over, let's just say my phone hasn't been ringing. but, hey, i did it. and you know what? i don't regret it. so she didn't call. so what? baby steps. it's all about baby steps.

eighth new thing...

one of the things i am obsessed with (yes, i have more than one obsession) and look forward to every year is awards season-- especially the oscars and everything associated with them. the history. the pageantry. the masturbatory nature of the accolades. i heart every part of it. but in recent years it has come to my attention how woefully unversed in the trivia of the oscars i am. for instance, a trivia question for you. how many women have won more than one oscar for best actress? twelve. no, seriously. twelve! now name them. i realized that my lack of cinematastic trivia knowledge probably originated in my incomplete library of movies viewed. i mean, grease 2 is seriously a fab movie, but michelle pfeiffer did not an oscar win (though she was absolutely robbed based strictly on this performance alone). something had to be done and the 52 new things offered a unique opportunity to address this deficiency. so for my new thing this week, i took amc theatres up on its kooky offer and watched all 5 2007 best picture nominees in one sitting. yes, that's right. 12 1/2 hours in a movie theatre with only one comedy (and some would argue a black comedy at that) to get me through. bring it on!

*SPOILERS AHEAD* shield your eyes to avoid plot points!

opening credits: setting the scene
i drove out to typical suburbia to the colonial 18 and what i thought would be a mostly empty theatre. surely there weren't many people crazy enough to sit through 5 movies in one sitting? apparently i was wrong. the movie theatre was sold out, filled to the gills with over 300 people ready to stick it out through a corrupt lawyer, a crazy oil man, a wrongly accused housekeeper's son, a quirky pregnant girl, and a homicidal maniac-- all in the name of oscar love. i was given a rocking commemorative pass telling me when all the movies started (atonement third? really? can't we lead with the crap and save the good for last?) and offering brief descriptions of the films for easy reference, a coupon for a free refillable large popcorn (refills? seriously?), and a piece of paper meant to be used as a seat saver. apparently these movie people are cut-throat about their seats. if you leave, your seat becomes a prime piece of real estate to be fought over. and woe be the girl who accidentally chooses a seat next to an odorific gentleman or chatty cathy. i got lucky. quiet girl to the left. nice couple to the right. let's get this party started.

the set up: the corrupt lawyer
michael clayton-- staring george clooney, tom wilkinson, and best supporting actress winner tilda swinton-- was your typical thrilleresque whodoneit. would tom wilkinson take down the destructive chemical company? would george clooney save tom from himself? would tilda ever stop sweating? all in all, i was invested for the entire film but as the credits rolled (on a tracking shot of george clooney in a cab for more than 10 minutes) i realized michael clayton did not amount to anything more than a million movies i had seen before. good but not best.
collins rating: eh, it was good.

pre-emptive strike: the crazy oil man
there will be blood was a tour de force of a magnitude one does not find very often. from the opening 10 minute long introduction of best actor winner daniel day lewis's daniel planiview to the bizarre closing scene of daniel and a preacher, a discussion of a milkshake and a bowling pin as a death keal, this movie rocked my face off. the cinematography deserved to win the oscar (from the wide shot of a desolate parched swath of land to the steady cam one shot of the chaos of a steam gyser defeaning daniel plainview's "son" h.w.) and daniel day lewis was a genius as the crazed oil man with one of the most unique, unsettling accents in movies. his best actor win cemented his place among the greatest actors of all time and showed-- yet again-- how obsessive a character actor he is. daniel day lewis does not play characters, he becomes them. he was christy brown. he was nathaniel poe. he was bill the butcher. and when he bludgeoned eli sunday to death with a bowling pin after the brilliance that was the "i drink your milkshake scene" i found myself grinning from ear to ear, scanning those near me to see if anyone else recognized the sheer genius that we were witnessing. i drink up your performance mr. lewis! i drink it up!



collins rating: hell yeah! this movie was the most awesomest thing eva!

suicidal tendencies: the falsely accused
atonement-- easily the most disappointing of the 5 films-- left me wishing i personally had access to the bowling pin from there will be blood so that i could bludgeon myself and put myself out of my misery. jesus, this movie was bad. the only redeeming qualities were the green dress and the music (sweet use of typwriter key stricking to drive the texture and tone of the score). otherwise, it couldn't end soon enough. keira knightley has excelled at not living up to her potential, james mcavoy bored me to tears and supporting actress nominee saoirse ronan wasn't even in half of the film. when the last third of the movie was revealed to be a ruse, a story made up by a pentatent child to atone (get it?) for her lies that ruined so many lives, i found myself wanting to throw my mostly full large bag of popcorn at vanessa redgrave on screen while yelling "are you frakking kidding me?" this movie blew.
collins rating: hell to the no! that's 2 1/2 hours of my life i will never get back.

intermission:
at this point it was 645. i had spent more than 8 hours in the movie theatre and i was definitely getting a little stir crazy. but i had just powered through what i hoped would be the low point of the evening and-- thanks to the wonderfully giving couple to my right who "paid" me for guarding their seats while they were at dinner (during atonement...you have chosen wisely)-- i had a huge assortment of sushi to stuff in my gullet before the next movie. three down, two to go.

comedic relief: the quirky pregnant girl
what can i say about juno? screenwriter diablo cody is quite possibly the coolest person ever. while she received some backlash, the oscar for best original screenplay was totally deserved. she managed to create her own language, the junoverse and teenagers everywhere found their voice. second only to the script was the work of ellen page. only she could deliver the words of this crazy woman in such a dry overtly irreverant manner as to make them believable. and it helps that she might be batting for our team. hey, we need as many good ones as we can get to cancel out ones like this. daaaannnnnggggg ellen page, you are my hero.



also, the supporting cast deserved way more accolades than they garnered (heh, that's funny...). jennifer garner as vanessa loring, the insecure adoptive mother-to-be, showed great range and represented her best work in film so far. (side note: how did j. garner manage to never win an emmy for her work on alias? that's just wrong. and why must the hollywood foreign press be so much better at this stuff than americans? they gave her a golden globe before a full season of alias had even aired. way to be late again america.) allison janney-- who apparently loves rock band-- and j.k. simmons as juno's parents were on point and made juno's oft-maligned quirkiness totally believeable. and jason reitman, oscar nominated director, seems to have run a tight ship.
collins rating:brills! single serving of quirk and wit. loves it!

final act: the homicidal maniac
the last film of the night-- no country for old men-- disturbed me to no end, with its air "gun" assaults and animal cruelty. but javier bardem's turn as dorothy hamill look-a-like serial killer anton chigurh was the least surprising and well deserved win at the oscars. while i feared him, i didn't hate him. in fact, i felt like there wasn't a clear villian in the film. the greatest injustice about this movie (other than the fact that i don't believe it was a better movie than twbb) was the snub by the academy of josh brolin, aka mr. diane lane, as llewelyn moss (quite possibly the best character name of the season). he absolutely deserved a nomination for supporting actor alongside javier. one could not have succeeded without the other and each man's performance would have been poorer for the lack of the other's presence.
collins rating: totally worth it, friendo.

so as my evening wound down and i stood to leave at 1130PM, after 12 1/2 hours of straight sensorary overload, i contemplated whether ellen page could win the best actress oscar (she didn't), if there will be blood would pull out the best picture win against the front runner no country for old men (it didn't), and what films would be nominated next season.

as i stretched out my bum left knee, i realized that this movie marathon might have actually been the beginning of a new love affair with cinema. but not until a couple weeks of complete avoidance to cleanse the palate.

seventh new thing...

well here we are again, another installment of the 52 new things. as i told my mom the other day, as planning for these new things every week has become more time consuming, i find that i no longer have time to blog about what i am doing. i seriously think one of my new things in the coming weeks might have to be writing 10 blog posts in one sitting. otherwise i will never catch up. mostly because-- as those of you who actually have met me are sure to know-- i can't be succinct about anything, especially when it comes to writing. i think that is becoming the most frustrating thing about my day job right now, i have to figure out how to write about a topic in 20 page little packages when really i could go on and on for twice as long. as is evidenced by the length of this opening paragraph about nothing. sheesh.

ok. so new thing number 7. this new thing is a total indicator of how woefully behind i am in my blogging. for my new thing this week, i decided to participate in one of the most sacred of christian ceremonies, something i had tried and failed miserably at in the past. i began the forty-day liturgical season of fasting and prayer. i gave something up for lent.

if this year goes the way i would like it to, there will be many new things that involve religion and the church. i spent much of my life wishing to be closer to god. not to make this a very special episode of the 52 new things or anything, but i have always felt more like a little vagabond child with her nose pressed firmly to the window of some expensive restaurant that she will never be able to eat in when it came to religion. always wondered if i just missed out on that "faith" gene that so many of my friends always seemed to have at the ready. but i have recently discovered that only i can change how isolated i have felt. so i thought participating in lent was the perfect beginning point. a preparation through prayer and penitence. an alliterative self-denial. and so with patience also along for the ride, i decided to give up two things-- one to cleanse my body and another to cleanse my spirit. one worked out. the other, lasted a mere 2 hours.

for the cleansing of the body, i gave up red meat, a serendipitous selection since soon after i swore it off, a lot of it was recalled due to some less than savory "euthanasia" practices in california. while this in itself was difficult (i mean, no more hamburgers! and meatloaf! and steak! and pepperoni! who the hell knew there was beef in pepperoni?!? this is seriously going to impact my pizza eating!), the second act of penance meant to cleanse my spirit proved much more difficult. i decided to give up profanity. now, i don't curse like a sailor. in fact, much of what is considered derogatory and inappropriate language i have to look up. but profanity had begun to take over for more intelligent conversation. plus, i figured it would make me aware of why and when i was using it. a social crutch, perhaps? so on ash wednesday, i said good-bye to beef and bad words. then, the next week i took madison to the veterinarian for her annual exam. one shot, one fecal and six pills. $150. goddammit! and bam! my spiritual cleansing was through. but i am happy to report i made it 40 days without eating any red meat. yeah jesus! now give me my pepperoni pizza goddammit!

sixth new thing...

wow. two blog posts in one day. we must be on a role...i mean roll. let's continue the journey through the 52 new things. this week, the sixth of the new things holds a special place in my heart and ended up marking a more meaningful milestone than i initially thought it would. on february 9th, i babysat a newborn. on my own. alone. for several hours.

this is megan, my charge for the evening. isn't she adorbale? megan was born on november 14th here in the ATL, brought into the world trough a slice and dice rather than a push and pull. congrats/condolences, as they say. according to ivilliage, megan marie is very emotionally perceptive, picking up on what is unspoken and speaking the languages of gestures. uhhh, duh. she's a baby. if she busted out with stewie-esque language at this juncture, i would be truly concerned for our future. also, apparently megan is deep, mysterious and magnetically attractive. huh. magnetically attractive. perhaps that's why she is always stuck to mom. or dad. or one of the multitude of admirers who wanna do nothing but hold her. good luck with this one guys.

so megan and i planned to spend a lovely evening together introducing her to the most famous of german poets and discussing the finer points of the 2004 broadway season verses the the 1996 broadway season. we started our journey by witnessing a last second win by the vanderbilt men's basketball team over the south carolina gamecocks. when byers' hit that floater shot, megan began to cry. i feared she might be a closeted usc fan. this might not end well. pressing on, we bopped our way through one of my favorite films from my youth and possibly the most unheralded accomplishment of the film career of the truly multi-talented actress angela lansbury: bedknobs and broomsticks. this movie put megan to sleep. so far, i am unimpressed. the evening ended with her crying for 45 minutes while who framed roger rabbit played in the background, the cat trying to lacerate my achilles-- thus making me immobile-- and finally, peace as megan drifted off to sleep again to the whiny and unfortunate kate and leopold. well, maybe there is some hope for this kid after all.

i truly enjoyed my alone time with megan. i honestly had forgotten what it was like to be that close to another human being. it had been a while. i hope it isn't that long again.

*ps* why was this new thing so much more meaningful than i thought? because, unbeknownst to me on the evening that i bonded with megan, my best friend from college was doing some baby bonding of her own. jen and tim getsay welcomed their first son, benjamin, on february 9th. the first to make me an "aunt". much love to the getsay's and karpinkski's on the arrival of this little bundle of joy. welcome to the world little one. i can't wait to meet you.

fifth new thing...

the catching up begins today. hopefully you all are prepared for a trip somewhere in time, because today's (first of hopefully many) return engagement to the 52 new things occurred on super bowl sunday. if you will, try to hearken back to the days when two things in the world seemed inevitable: the undefeated season of the new england patriots and the nomination of hillary clinton as the democratic presidential candidate. well, apparently the new york giants got the memo from will.i.am. and found that they were the ones that they had been waiting for. inevitability, schmenevitability. for the fifth of the 52 new things, i did not one-- but two-- new things: i used a crock pot for the first time and participated in a chili cook-off.

so, the first half of this fifth new thing addressed one of my long held biases in cooking. i simply don't like the idea of a crock pot. never have. i'm the first to admit that i am a little bit of a worrier, some might even say slightly paranoid. so the idea of plugging in an appliance, turning it on, and then leaving the house for up to 10 hours doesn't sit well with my doomsday mentality. i mean, i'm the girl who had a ridiculously vivid dream about my apartment in nashville being destroyed by some world war II axis of evil b-2 bombers and madison being trapped in the rubble in her wire kennel soon after finishing sarah waters' period lesbian novel the night watch. active imaginations aren't necessarily a good thing if you have a less than rosy picture of the "what ifs". but everyone must face their fears someday. so i dusted off the box for the hamilton beach crock pot my mom bought me for christmas two years ago (yes, it was still in the box) and set out to concoct a culinary masterpiece. first half of the fifth new thing accomplished.

the second half of the fifth new thing meant i would need a chili recipe which illustrates another of my odd characteristics. if placed in a competition where i know i am at a disadvantage (did i mention i had only made chili once in my life before this cook-off? no? huh, i wonder why i would keep that to myself? weird...), i always follow the will schroter way of thinking: go big or go home. so, with a little help from paula deen, i set out sunday morning on a white chicken chili makin' adventcha!

yummmmm. chopped chicken breasts. perfectly cooked and seasoned. aren't. they. fabulous? add some chicken broth, navy beans, garlic, onions and green chilies and you have a recipe for success. and you will have to take my word for it because i kinda forgot to document this part of the experience. i guess i was distracted by my own culinary genius. how could i not win with the only white chili and what would invariably be the most witty, original name at the cook-off. a win was, dare i say, inevitable.

with the chili simmering away in the crock pot, i packed up for my trip out to the boondocks for some company and a chili championship. once i arrived at our lovely hosts' humble abode, i unpacked my crock pot with the swagger of a preordained winner. surely i could whip the odd concoctions of 3 or 4 other people. it didn't matter that my "chili" hadn't thickened yet and looked more like a dr. seuss soup, all the who's down in whoville would love it anyway. but as the other participants trickled in it became glaringly apparent that i was facing an uphill battle. the ringer was no longer guaranteed a win.

9. that's how many chili contestants there were to sample. and i mean that in every sense of the word. just the very thought of eating 9 bowls of chili makes me want to loose my lunch. and the seriousness of this process. goodness. discussions of bison verses lean beef. sweet sausage verses spicy sausage. chocolate verses dr. pepper. measured ingredients verses the kitchen sink approach. and me. with my white bean chicken soup. awesome. though i garnered many compliments on my submission (i still sometimes think these people are nice to me because i am new to the group...) the overwhelming response was "it's not chili". alas, my first foray into cook-off territory ended poorly. and i had the evidence to prove it: two weeks worth of white chicken chili leftovers.

ps: the night of the super bowl also marked the awarding of the trophies for our fantasy football league the joey harrington era. i humbly accepted the metternich cup for all vanderbilt graduates everywhere. in true vanderbilt fashion, my team "jay cutler is a douche" (no, no. this jay cutler, not that jay cutler. though i am sure he is a douche, too.) opened the season 2 and 6 and then went on an 9 game winning streak, defeating team ericksen who had been crowned the inevitable winner of the league in the last game of the season. huh. there's that word again. inevitable. i do not think it means what you think it means.

yes we can.

fourth new thing...

Gosh. I think the new thing for one of my weeks coming up should be i caught up on blogging my 52 new things. but, alas, i am still dreadfully behind. let's try and put a dent in it, shall we? so, as i said at the beginning of this journey, some of the 52 new things that i do will take longer than a week to plan. and the seed for this week's foray into the new was planted way back in december. i decided for christmas this year that i wanted to do something to spend more time with my mother. we (read: i) are not big phone people (read: i have no idea why i have a cell phone) and so i thought something to "facilitate" communication would be appropriate. i must admit i spent the majority of my life keeping people at arm's length and then fretting about why i was so alone. apparently i just succeed really well at all my subconscious pursuits. god i miss shelly. but enough psychobabble, this week i brought to fruition my christmas wish, i started a book club with my mom.

i coyly asked my mom in early december what her favorite book was and she answered, completely unaware of my plan, gone with the wind. now, i knew this was amongst my mother's favorite movies, along with romancing the stone ("that was the end of grogan...the man who killed my father, raped and murdered my sister, burned my ranch, shot my dog and stole my bible"), jewel of the nile, and north and south (god, i should have know i was gay in 1985...i mean, seriously, lesley-anne down? M,MoG.), but i had no idea it was her favorite book. being a georgia peach myself, i have heard about margaret mitchell my whole life. i mean, she is sort of the unofficial first lady of the south. but i had never read the book. so i ordered them from amazon. i mean, how bad could it be, right?

ok. do you see how thick this book is? i mean, the last time i read something this long was in high school (i do love me some joseph heller). 959 pages? really mom? if we were going for sheer weight, i would have gone with the history of art. but i got myself into this mess, i suppose i must soldier on.

actually, i found ms. mitchell's prose enthralling. her use of color is amazing. seriously. it seems like every time she describes the scenery of north georgia it is saturated in reds and yellows and greens and blues. the book seems to be flying by. so kudos mom, i get it.

but ms. mitchell had even more up her sleeve than just imagery producing words ala mr. james fenimore cooper. in just the first part of this book, i learned many things about gone with the wind and-- in particular-- miss scarlett o'hara that i never knew from watching the movie. what follows is the top five. read. be enlightened. enjoy.

5 things i didn't know about gone with the wind

1. scarlett o'hara was the original regina george from mean girls. first of all, she was only 16 when the book (and the movie) starts and she is so hung up on this boy (ashley wilkes)-- who was never really hers-- that she decides to ruin lives. the quintessential bitch. honestly, i think there is a little bit of scarlett in every mean-spirited character in modern cinema, including regina and the other plastics from mean girls, winona ryder's arch nemesis from heathers, and the "a" group from never been kissed.
2. hell hath no fury like a child scorned. in retaliation for ashley getting engaged to melanie hamilton-- his cousin (insert southern joke here), scarlett marries a poor lovelorn man whom she cares nothing about, makes him feel inferior for the two months they are together before he leaves to fight for the south in the civil war, bears his child-- whom she foists off on her slaves-- and then bitches and moans about having to act like a widow after he is killed in battle. what a self-centered little tart! frankly, i don't think i would give a damn either, rhett.
3. twenty years ain't a thing when it comes to picking your bride to be. scarlett's mother was only 15 when she left savannah with scarlett's father, a man she barely knew. as a role model for the future actions of her unborn daughter, ellen roubillard left everything she knew to punish her family for running off the man she truly wanted to marry and moved to fayetteville with gerald o'hara, a 43 year old man of no family and swindled property. so spitefulness seems to run in the family. hell, it practically gallops.
4. pink may be the new black, but violet will always be the new green. scarlett o'hara is described in the opening line of the book as "not beautiful", but having alabaster skin, thick black eyebrows (and black hair i would assume) and eyes that were "pale green without a touch of hazel". now, vivien leigh, who played scarlett in the classic 1936 film version of gone with the wind was known for her violet eyes, that would change from blue to green depending on the scenery, costuming or lens used for filming. vivien leigh was hot and most likely entirely too pretty to play scarlett as mitchell imagined her. who knew?
5. schoolin' ain't needed. as still holds true in much of the south, education was frowned upon in mitchell's north georgia, often presented as a cause for concern as to a gentleman's place in society. while scarlett claimed to love ashley, mr. o'hara never really cared for the boy because he liked books and opera and traveling. all things a good man need not do. scarlett o'hara did attend fayetteville female academy, an only slightly fictionalized institution based on the seminary attended by margaret mitchell's grandmother. but only to teach her how to be a good wife. and apparently she skipped the core classes of the day: how to be demure, the importance of obeying your husband, and how to be agreeable.

hopefully, this new thing will continue. at least for 800 more pages. i enjoy having something to talk to mom about, other than politics and my sister. then mom and i are on to my favorite book. i can't decide if i will make her read the scarlet letter, letters to a young poet or the odyssey. but i can guarantee one thing, it won't be 959 pages long.

*update* per my mother: charles, scarlett o'hara's husband, did not die in battle. he got sick while in south carolina waiting to join the fray. quote from page 142 paragraph 6 (thanks mom): "the unfortunate boy had been cheated not only of the love he thought he had won but also of his high hopes of honor and glory on the field of battle." ever the teacher.

*update part deux* per my cinemaphile friend mcpeak: gone with the wind was released as a major motion picture in 1939 not 1936. which i actually knew, but, alas, my dyslexia overtook my intellect and made me look foolish yet again. is it still dyslexia if you flip numbers instead of transposing them? my apologies. but, if you visit the link provided, it lists "the beginning" of the motion picture as 1936, not 1939. see, i can always find a technicality.