I Was Born This Way

I've been trying to deny who I really am. I've been holding back (believe it or not) and unwilling to admit the dorkiness that is inherently the person I've become. I've gotten to that point where I think, or even say aloud, "This is going on the blog." I shudder to think that, since I fought the whole blog/facebook/myspace fad. But, since it's turning out to be more than a fad and it is a way to help our family and friends stay in touch, I too have joined. And yet, I digress. I've been finding things happening in our lives I think may be of interest, but I've been afraid of the judgement.

Hello, my name is Shelly, and I'm a movie-holic. (Your line is, "Hi, Shelly.") As trivial as it may seem, I've been afraid to admit that I love movies. I love to quote movies. I love to sit with my husband and a bowl or bag of popcorn and devour movies. Movies have been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. I've already unwittingly admitted my love for Annie, Monty Python and the Holy Grail, Flight of the Navigator, and I've quietly stolen a line from Friends. Not a movie, but a visual media nonetheless. Josh and I have an uncanny knack for picking up on relative quotes in our daily lives, usually at the exact same moment. I nearly blew my chance to be Cindy's friend when I accosted her with an entire conversation from Home Alone. Tara and I licked our wounds with a little story based on the movie My Best Friend's Wedding. My sisters and I used to quote Quigley Down Under nearly every time we entered the town of Roy (Crazy Cora is such a great character). We bonded with our local serving missionary over Matt Foley, who lives in a van down by the river (SNL). My brother, JC, has asked me to help him come up with a list of Tim Curry movies to marathon-watch. (By the way, JC, Home Alone 2.) I can't hide who I am any longer. This is who I am, and I can't edit myself.

So, my whole purpose of this was to share that the kids have finally passed a few rites of passage. Not only have they seen the two worthwhile Home Alone movies, but also Saturday's Warrior. I actually felt like I was leading them through childhood. I watched all three kids laugh their guts out when Kevin booby-trapped his uncle's home-in-renovation. Nothing brings more joy than the laugh of a child, even if it is because Daniel Stern just got hit in the face with a brick again.

Phew, I feel so much better now that I got that off my chest and into the open!