Just a little mantra I stitched up. Framing it this week to put on my desk.
Danielle really is this awesome.
Important list found in my Care Bears notepad circa 1985.
I’ve left these two tabs open in my phone for three weeks now, for quick reference.
Several months ago I started following a bunch of miniatures blogs, because I love dollhouses and tiny stuff like that. But it seems like all they ever post are instructions on how to make tiny fake food, which I don’t care about. Today I unfollowed three of them and now my dash isn’t a million itty bitty apple pies or English breakfasts and it’s great.
For years, I’ve searched the internet for a McDonald’s commercial from the early ’80s. It was a little girl standing on the edge of a swimming pool, nervous to jump, with her dad in the pool, waiting to catch her, persuading her by saying that after they’ll go to McDonald’s. I remember it because I used to make my own dad go through this skit with me, word for word, every time we went to the neighborhood pool when I was little. He eventually refused to play it anymore because I’d become irate afterwards when we wouldn’t actually go to McDonald’s. (I was like four years old here, so my literal sense of the game was pretty annoying.)
Anyway, this is something that I’ll remember about once a year and spend ten minutes searching for and end up watching the Piano Recital McDonald’s commercial instead, UNTIL TODAY when I found a link to it. And the link was from a Heather O’Rourke fan site.
Do you know who Heather O’Rourke was (without googling)? I knew immediately. She was the little girl from the Poltergeist movies. And for about a year or so of my life, I was obsessed with her.
Around fifth grade, my best friend and I spent all of our free time watching Poltergeist I and II. I hated it. I hated it so much. It made me sick, and I couldn’t sleep at night for thinking of it. But I could not stop watching, every time I went over to her house. And right about this time, Heather O’Rourke (who was about our age) got very sick and died. You can tell she’s sick in Poltergeist III; her face is very puffy.
So this tragedy really lined up with our other interest: the occult. My best friend and I were obsessed with ghosts and seances and Ouija boards, and suddenly we had a real person to try and contact instead of our usual standby, Amelia Earhart. By this time we were in sixth grade, and our peer group was getting perms and buying Escape Club albums. We were writing each other notes in code about a little dead girl from a horror movie.
Sixth grade was a hard year for me. I had a hard time with the transition from elementary school to middle school, plus my grandmother was living at our home, slowly dying. Our family was stressed and kind of a mess. Would I have still been obsessed with this stuff anyway? Probably. My interest pre-dated the angst, but the angst certainly helped.
While other girls in our class had been all for the Ouija board at slumber parties where we ate pizza and played Light As A Feather, Stiff As A Board, we knew to keep this Heather obsession between us. It was weird. It was creepy. And already Tiffany had started a rumor that we were Satan worshippers for the Ouija board stuff. (Do you know who bought me my Ouija board? My very religious grandmother, for Christmas. The moment is captured on videotape. I’m in a dress and tights and have braids in my hair, and I have the good sense at age ten to look at the camera and try play it down by saying “We like, ask it who we’re going to marry and stuff!” Like that’s less inappropriate.)
So I don’t really have a big ending to the Heather O’Rourke fascination. I mean, there’s not a lot of places we could have gone with it. We couldn’t drive and the internet wasn’t a thing yet. Eventually we got into other stuff, like V.C. Andrews books and White Lion. I still don’t think our occult obsession was unhealthy or unnatural. We were smart and curious kids. Part of it was a game, like not letting go of the thrill of the unknown. For me, having a seance with Amelia Earhart was just as much a childhood thing as hoping that Santa Claus or Narnia could be real, even though deep down I doubted it.
Anyway, suddenly ending up on the Heather O’Rourke memorial fan site today was very, very weird. Here are all these adults, asking if there are pictures of her in her casket and what color were her eyes, shit I wondered in 1988. I’m not going to delve too deep into it, or judge them, but I will admit that reading that website with its pink background made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I had to turn on some lights and put on some music.
Also now I want McDonald’s.
I never see Ben Affleck that I don’t think about how he was the MC Skat Kat in his relationship with Jennifer Lopez. And before you ask: at our regular monthly pancake breakfast.
I just watched a video of one of my favorite things, Animals Who Are Unexpectedly Friends With Different Animals, and was feeling really happy. Then I thought “Think of all the unlikely animal pal duos throughout history that you’ll never know about. Like I bet elephants and tiger cubs were friends in ancient Roman times and you’ll never know,” and now I’m actually sad.
There’s a scene in Ghostbusters that honestly scares me, and that’s when Gozer tells them to choose the form of the Destructor and Ray can’t clear his mind, because I know I wouldn’t be able to clear my mind either, only I’d think of the most terrible form ever, like Spiders That Come Out Your Butt.
I know it’s time for me to turn off the TV when I start thinking how much it would’ve bothered Dave Thomas that the new Wendy’s girl is such an unlikable bitch and not even a real redhead.