Leftovers

In deference to the holiday, the heat, and my general laziness, I am giving you  glimpse into the recent past. The post below was originally published on the DC Metro Moms website and was picked up for national syndication by the McClatchy-Tribune service.  Which means that my post about my uncoolness appeared in the family sections of newspapers from Sacarmento to Missouri. Yay?

Anyway, enjoy this blast from the past and stay tuned this week for current posts about books I should be writing, lipstick, and a guest post at Rants From Mommyland about…poop. Good times!

P.S. I almost titled this post “Sloppy Seconds” but I was afraid that I would get a sudden influx of perverts reading my blog if I did that.

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I haven’t been to a movie since 2008

That’s right.  The last movie I saw in a theatre was Leatherheads at a mom movie showing while I was on maternity leave with my son. Who is now two years old.  It wasn’t a very good movie, by the way.  Mostly because of Renee Zellweger, if you ask my opinion.  I know there are people who love her.  I am not among them.  I want to feed her something starchy and get her into the shade so she can stop squinching her face into a little ball with her eyes mostly shut and her lips squashed right up under her nose.  Her face looks like it’s making a fist.

But at least I know who Renee Zellweger is.  I can’t really say the same thing about anyone in the cast of Gossip Girl.  They all fall into a vague category of Young Pretty People Who Are Famous But I Don’t Know Why. Some of them are actors or singers and I get that. But what about the others?  Like Heidi Montag.  Who is she?  Why is she famous?   I don’t understand.

It’s a bit distressing to eagerly pick up a copy of a gossip magazine and realize that you have no idea who 75% of the people in the “Who Wore It Best” feature are.  And that you consider yourself edgy because you can spot Fergie immediately.  Then you remember that’s not edgy at all because you watched Fergie when she was still Stacy and starring on Kids Incorporated 25 years ago.

I used to know who people were and if I didn’t, the nice people at E! News could fill in the blanks.  But there came a day, sometime after the birth of my son but before my 35th birthday, when even Ryan and Giuliana couldn’t bail me out of my pop culture vacuum. I had somehow strayed off the mainstream media path and had lost track of movies, television, and music in a way that would have shocked my 16 year-old-self.  I don’t know anything. Nothing.  Glee? Never seen it.  Justin Bieber?  Never listened to him.  Robert Pattinson? I’ve heard he’s hot.  Not sure I could pick him out in a police line-up.

I have entered a strange shadow-land where I no longer care about being current on pop culture for my own sake but my son is too young to make sure I keep current on what’s Hip-And-Now for his sake.  The result?  All my claims of hipness are utterly void.

Oh, I try.  I really do.  I read People magazine and watch a few reality shows just so I have something to talk about at work but inevitably, my thumb starts twitching on the remote and the next thing I know, I’m watching a home design show on HGTV and the remains of my coolness die. And when I do manage to latch onto a truly current cultural reference?  I just end up being as embarrassing as the dad on Modern Family when he did the dances from High School Musical in front of his incredulous and horrified kids.

(You see?  I can’t even reference the one new tv show I actually watch without it turning into something tortured and awkward.)

I want to find a way to spin my pop culture disconnect into something ironically hip, like when I was in high school and only went to indie films at the local art house. But it’s not remotely like that.  What is really is is that I’m a mom.  I’m 36.  I have a child to raise, a marriage to maintain, a mortgage to pay, a career to tend.  I am a Grown Up.

In other words? I am a dork. I admit it.  Now please pass the remote so I can watch Designed to Sell.