Come on, guys. I'm here burning the midnight oil for you on this interview thingy...
But please read 'dem rules. If you want me to interview you, you have to email ME your email address if we've never corresponded. Otherwise I won't be able to send you your questions if your email address is not in your profile. (If I already have your email address and you know I do, don't sweat it.)
I know you're excited and all, but don't make me come out there and spank you. Don't make me work too hard-- I am on the Staycation, you know.
Merci millefois.
xoxo
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ps.: When you post your finished interview, because I am emailing out questions tonight if I can, please do let me know so I can tell people to come and see you.
pss.: If I could be a pinup girl, I would be an Elvgren Girl. They always seemed to be the most fun.
Last night I went to a slumber party at Ms. Wellspring's house.
The Boy (and probably a lot of others like him) think that at girls' slumber parties, we lounge around like Elvgren Girl pin-ups in frilly negligees, giving each other pedicures and talking about them (boys), breathlessly waiting for the Panty Raids to start and hoping some handsome scamp will climb in through a window to kiss and/or ravage us.
When, in truth, most slumber parties involve wearing baggy sweats and/or fleece and old t-shirts (but sans bra so I guess that is somewhat titillating--pun intended), eating unfortunate amounts of junk food (including, but limited to, Doritos, potato chips, Red Vines, cookies, ice cream, hickory-smoked almonds and microwave popcorn--but we also had some grapes), talking about ourselves (maybe we did talk about you guys but only for a second and then it might have been to make the others laugh), and watching silly movies.
The only difference between this slumber party and ones we had when we were twelve were that we did not do makeovers, make crank calls or have a seance (light as a feather, stiff as a board) but only because we had to start our party after we had gotten off of work and we had already lost a few hours.
So it was a pared-down slumber party but still lots of fun and pretty true to the original format.
***
This slumber party was very educational because the first movie we watched was Flashdance. I remember seeing this movie when it came out and I'm pretty sure I liked it. I didn't remember a whole lot about the particulars of the movie aside from Jennifer Beals' torn shirts that created a huge fashion trend of which I was a lemming to, some sexy dance scenes (see below) and that she played a welder.
Watching the movie after a 20-plus-year hiatus was a sociological event and an opportunity to hone our skills at playing Mystery Science Theater 3000. I had no idea that Flashdance was such a bad bad b-a-d movie! It also raised a million questions in my mind, including:
1. Did we really look that stupid in the '80s?! (Yes.) Between the giant padded shoulders, stiletto heels with white anklet socks, shredded clothing and ratty hair, a miasma of bad wardrobe images floated in my memory. The '80s look made the '70s look seem like a well-considered fashion statement. 2. Why was it okay for an 18-year old to be stalked and hit on by her employer who was, oh, a good 20 years older than she was? By stalked, I mean following her home on dark rainy nights in his Porsche while she rode her 10-speed bike back from work and coming on to her at work and where ever else he stalked and found her. But then she stalked him too and pyschotically threw a brick through his window and generally acted like a freak. 3. What is it that a 40-year old guy sees in an 18-year old girl who works as an exotic dancer? (Silly question.) One ponders the scintillating conversations they must have had about life, the universe and everything. Clearly they had so much in common. 4. Who hires an 18-year old girl to be a welder in his factory, for Chrissakes?! 5. Why must a young woman become a stripper when her career as a waitress and her chance to become a professional figure skater don't work out? 6. Why did I not realize that Jennifer Beals did not actually dance in any of the dance scenes? Other dancers wearing crazy black poodle wigs were flinging themselves all over this movie and I had no idea it wasn't her until last night. 7. Why did I not remember this being one of the worst films of all time?
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Had I absorbed some Life Lessons from this film in my formative years, I could have known the following Truths about Life as "Important Things I Learned From Flashdance":
1. You can ride your bike to a fancy evening at the ballet in a sequined gown and high heels without looking like a sweaty mess. 2. You can live in a cool-ass loft complete with Shabby Chic antiques and a dance studio on a welder's salary. 3. You can work as a welder and an exotic dancer. You can have two careers AND have a dream of being a classical ballerina. 4. And most importantly, it is okay to stick your foot in a man's crotch while you are in a fancy restaurant. And to eat lobster like a crazed ho as long as your date is paying. (Bet you don't remember that scene! I sure as hell didn't. And I don't think my mother does either.)
Below is all I really remembered about Flashdance until last night. Thanks, Ms. Wellspring, for allowing me to rediscover my buried memories of the '80s while eating Doritos and Red Vines in a sleeping bag at your house.
The scene we all remember (no, it's not Jennifer Beals.)
