The Egg-Off approaches!
Tomorrow’s Independence Day, which is a super! fun! day! at my house at least. I’ll be wearing red-white-n-blue, natch (my shoulders and cheeks are sunburned so there’s my red!), and my best friend and her family will be coming over, along with my aunt and uncle. Traditionally, on the 4th of July, my family has an event that we call, um, the Egg-Off. You can probably guess what it entails…namely, various games that involve eggs. Y’know (or perhaps you don’t): Egg toss between teams of two people stepping farther and farther apart, to see who can get farthest without the egg breaking. Race around the house with an egg in a spoon. Make some sort of cushioning package for your egg using only natural outdoors materials, then toss it off the roof and see if it breaks. Um, yeah.
(What can I say, when you live in the suburbs with a family that makes its own fun, you learn to roll with the punches. And as long as you can ignore the complete ridiculousness of everything, it can be quite a hoot.)
So at dinner tonight, we were tossing back and forth various ideas for new things to do this year. My brother suggested just throwing eggs at each other, each person with a frying pan as a shield to deflect them. Then my sister suggested that we all just throw them at my mom, who would have to deflect from all angles—heh.
Then there’s lots of food, a must in the O’Brien household, and fireworks of course—across town—later on in the night. And the drunkard at the end of my street rarely fails to set off a few of his own homemade fireworks…though he doesn’t usually stick to the general rules of 4th of July, or, y’know, nighttime. Ah, the drunkard…
On an entirely different note, I’ve seen a couple interesting movies recently; I usually don’t have much time to watch films during the school year, but with summer comes our Netflix subscription and as many weird independent movies as I want—as long as I adjust the film queue online before my brother does, heh. (My movies aren’t manly enough for him.)
I saw The City of Lost Children, by Jean-Paul Jeunet (Mr. Amelie), which was terrific visually and…well, intriguing in plot, but not fantastic. Sort of like it was trying too hard to be endearingly eccentric. It was about children in a mythical city who were kidnapped by an evil scientist (assisted by six dumb clones), who tried to steal their dreams because he didn’t have any. (It was cooler than I’m making it sound, though, I’m just terrible with synopses.)
Maybe the real reason I didn’t like it is because of the kidnapping theme. When I was little I was terrified of being kidnapped; it was my biggest fear, and it was something that I would worry about quite often. Being kidnapped or, alternately, being abandoned by my parents. I don’t know why I would fear this; my parents were always endlessly caring, and they never threatened anything of the nature. Of course, my mom would warn me about not getting into cars with strangers (“And T.C., what if the man says, ‘I’ll give you candy if you get in my car…’?”—“Okay!…oh, um, I mean: Are you a bad guy?”), but it was never an actual threat. Yet whenever I’d wait for my mom or dad to pick me up, I’d be quite fearful of being left alone or “stolen” unless my big brother was with me. This fear persisted for an embarrassingly long time—until I was in about sixth grade, I think.
But oh how I digress. The other movie was In the Realms of the Unreal, about a janitor-artist…actually, I’ll talk about this later. I’m sleepy. Good night and have a pleasant tomorrow!