As a proud member of the working mother/latch key kid generation, I have come to realize that I may not be the only one who credits many-a-90’s film/television installment with shaping my personality more than my actual DNA-sharing tribe. I’m willing to bet my over-enthusiastic childhood Troll Doll collection that my own parents would agree I was convinced I was a lot more like Buffy Summers/Angela Chase/Lydia Deets/Daria than what one time-wasting scientist might predict for the typical offspring of a figure skating coach and a software designer.
Though I’d like to believe that the tutelage stemming from these classics had a positive effect on me, no one – and I mean absolutely NO ONE – benefited from the devastatingly irreversible fashion choices made by yours truly during the high school era of my life cycle under the influence of such cinematic girl power. Going to school in South Florida sporting leather pants from The GAP will demonstratively not get you made out with. Thanks a lot, Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
I don’t think that this makes me unique. In fact, I think I smell a lot more of you lurking out there. Pungent, yet comforting, I might add. Hence the introduction of this little ol’ nostalgia series Life Lessons Learned From: ________________.
I solemnly swear that at least 90% of everything you read here will be completely and utterly useless to your every day life. And please, mofo’s, feel free to suggest future blank fillers. In the meantime: nerd alert.
- Lydia Deets is basically my hero. If they had sold her red wedding dress at K-Mart, I would have worn it to every single school dance in the tri-state area. They did, however, sell the VHS, which I proceeded to wear out like a my great grandma’s favorite muumuu. I think the real reason I’m attached to it is that there seems to be some kind of amazing message somewhere in the film that resonated with me. Even if you don’t fit in with the people around you, like-minded people can turn up and embrace you in the most unlikely likely places. You know, like dead people in your attic.
- Miniatures are the &%#!. I have a crush on them. A deep-seated, unhealthy crush. All of this CGI stuff we’ve been having this torrid affair with can suck it. If miniatures were to propose marriage, I would surely accept. I’d even write my own vows.
- It turns out that the only divinely written handbook on a specific subject is delivered postmortem. There goes my hope of the stork dropping off a parenting hanbook in tandem with my future offspring.
- Yes, you CAN make triangles out of hair. No, it still does not look cool on me. Though, I would encourage you to try your own luck. Could be worth it (please send photos).
- As I had suspected, hell is a DMV. It’s exactly the same as the one by your house. This appears to be omitted from several religious texts.
- Agents do in fact take commission for hauntings. “Might I remind you, I am Delia’s agent. I have been losing money on her for years. If anything should happen here, I shall handle it!”
- Catherine O’Hara is the end all be all of movie moms (among many other things). Proof:
- Some solid home run’s from Delia Deets:
- “Charles I will not stop living and breathing art just because you need to ‘relax.’ I’m here with you. I will live with you in this hell hole but you must let me express myself. If you don’t let me gut out this house and make it my own I will go insane and I will take you with me!!”
- “This is my art! And it is dangerous! Do you think I want to die like this!?”
- “Lydia, you have got to take the upper hand in all situations or else people whether they’re dead or alive will walk all over you.”
- Dancing to Harry Belafonte at any point time is always the best course of action. If a friend helps you float? Well, that’s just a bonus.