My Freakish Memory

I remember everything. Well, everything after the age of. . . let's say four. I know, that seems a little bit early, but I'm telling the truth here. I have a freakishly accurate collection of memories, just waiting in the back of my mind for someone to say the magic word and open them. This generally serves me well in arguments when someone is trying to tell me that the thing being argued never happened, or was completely different, or that they did/did not say something they did not/did.

But usually, this weird. . . ability, if you want to call it that, manifests itself in one of two ways:
1) when watching a movie or a show with someone, I can spout off pretty much every leading actor, supporting actor, bit part, extra and cameo without breaking a sweat, which seems to annoy or astound everyone around me (depending on who I'm with)
2) I see/hear about/randomly run into someone I met years and years ago (which a normal person, with a normal memory span, wouldn't think twice about or even notice) and remember every minute I was ever around that person.

About five minutes ago I was reminded of this second fact, when I scrolled down my Facebook updates (herpderpFacebookherpderp) and saw that my friend Chelsea had recently become "friends" with a guy with a very familiar and somewhat unique (or at least it seemed so to me) name.

I know. You're all just hanging on the edge of your seats.

Upon even seeing this person's name, I was forcibly, viscerally launched headfirst into memories of my gawky awkward self at twelve. I attended the YMCA during the summer because my mom worked, and I met this kid there. I immediately had this like totally huge crush on him. We became friends, and at some point I hid his glasses, knowing he couldn't see without them, and used this opportunity to gracelessly grab his face and try to kiss him.

What a charming kid I was, right?

I also remembered that after I came back from my annual summer Boston visit, he didn't want to be my friend anymore, and was a super-jerkface to me about it.

I haven't thought about this in. . . years, honestly. And yet the mere sight of a name remarkably similar to the name I remember was like the proverbial number 19 opened this Pandora's box of hilariously uncomfortable awkwardness and weird feelings I had no idea what to do with.

This happens all the time. I'm not even joking.

Hanging out in the student lounge at school one day, a couple of years ago, I noticed someone really familiar. He'd put on quite a bit of weight and didn't look as birdlike as he used to, but I recognized him all the same. David Mayne, my first boyfriend. I mean holding hands to slow-skates at Riverside arena, back when all-school skate nights were still a thing. I remembered everything from him telling me his eyes changed color with his shirts, to his home phone number, which I haven't dialed since I was twelve.

I've seen him a lot since that first initial weird-out, since we apparently run in the same circles now, but I haven't said anything about it. Because what are you supposed to say? "Hi, I know that any normal person wouldn't remember this, but I sort-of-not-really-dated you in middle school. You got me pizza and we played Area 51 at Riverside. One day we went to the park and you got mud all over your clothes, so you had to wear mine for the rest of the night. Wasn't that fun?"

I've also seen Joe (yes, that same Joe) down in the student lounge a couple times, which you as my readers should be thankful for. I didn't think about crazy Mrs Cooke's meltdown once after it happened, until I saw Joe in the Waterman. After that it was just lodged in my brain.

Again, I never said anything. Because, again, what am I supposed to say? "Hey Joe, it's me, Kelli Renas! We had detention in middle school together? I gave you twenty bucks to beat up your friend for making fun of me, and you totally did it? Your favorite band was the White Stripes. I bought Elephant because of you! Remember when Doug Raymond and his stupid friends were throwing everybody's art projects into the fan, and you saved mine and yelled at them because I was crying? You were so awesome! Man, we had some good times. Some GOOD TIMES. Anyway, here's my number! Call me."

Yeah. That wouldn't say I was a serial killer, or anything. He wouldn't be creeped out by that at all. No sir. Especially, you know, if it actually didn't turn out to be him. Just someone that looks almost exactly like a guy I remember from grade school.

It's no wonder, with all this stuff in my head, that I come off as crazy to people who don't intimately know me. ON OPPOSITE DAY.



EDIT: If you're curious about Joe at all, I've just looked him up on MySpace (I know, right?). He was an amazing musician even back in middle school, and it seems like now he's getting the recognition he deserves. Hats off to you, Joe! :]

The best beginnings are silly ones.

This post is not about my childhood. I apologize for the misleading title, because I fully realize now that some people may have seen it and gotten all excited. Don't worry. That's coming later. I just have to compile all the research.

No, this post is instead about SONGS, not lives, with hilarious beginnings.

I'm sort of a music nerd. I don't mean that like I'm a music major, or I study it intensely and know all the ins and outs and technical stuff; I don't even play any instruments, except for drums from time to time, when Zack is playing guitar and needs a backbeat. And I'm not even good at that.

I'm a music nerd more in the sense that I love music and honestly don't think i could live without it. At least, not a functioning life, or a life that anyone would want to live. How would I get out my wiggles if I wasn't able to dance to Ben Folds? How would I get over my depression and anger, unless Max Bemis were there to guide me? And how would I come up with ridiculous analogies and euphemisms if there were no more Fall Out Boy?

These are questions I don't want to ever have answered.

Over the last couple years, I've compiled a short list of songs with very, very silly beginnings that never fail to make me giggle, no matter what kind of mood I'm in. I have many more lists, because I make lists when I can't think of anything else to write, but I figured this is a good one to start with.

Silly Songs With Kelli: Hi-Larry-Ous First Lines/Stanzas/What-Have-You

"Shit! Nothing makes sense!"
"The Futile", Say Anything

"If there's a God, he's laughing at us and our football team."
"Effington", Ben Folds

"I'm really sorry, Steven, but your bicycle's been stolen."
"Apology Song", The Decemberists

"WHOOOOOO you callin' 'bitch'?"
"Who You Callin' Bitch?", Rivers Cuomo (I'm not even kidding, the song is actually called that.)

"Well, I thought about the Army; Dad said 'Son, you're fuckin' high.'"
"Army", Ben Folds

"Did you know that there are people in the world annoyed at all the other people in the world?"
"Hate Everyone", Say Anything

"I have to record the spoken-word introduction to the record. It's only a few little lines, but I'm having anxiety about it."
"Do you know what it is?"
"Yeah, it goes, uh--"
"Oh, good. I was gonna say, yeah, if you know what it is, then go ahead."
"It goes, uh, 'And the record begins with a song of rebellion.'"
". . . That's it?"
"AND THE RECORD BEGINS WITH A SONG OF REBELLION!" *album starts*
"Belt", Say Anything

"I'm going crazy trying to keep you sane. You're taking my prescriptions and forging my name. I was happy this morning; you finally got yourself dressed! Eating raw bacon. . . It's okay, I was still impressed."
"Even If You Don't", Two Tongues

and, my personal favorite,

"The answer you seek, my son, only poses more questions.
Ask many woman why relationship has failed. Each woman offer unique reason for demise.
One woman might say 'man could not commit', or 'man is douche, and is now free to make love to himself instead.'
Another woman might say 'man have changed' or even 'man no longer satisfactory lover.'
But my son, ask many men same question all over the world, why has relationship failed; each man, each time, will give same, simple answer.

The bitch went nuts."

"Bitch Went Nuts", Ben Folds

Movie Monday!

You might be thinking, "Hey, you big dumb stupidhead! It's not Monday! It's not Monday at all! You're just a BIG DUMB STUPIDHEAD who doesn't know how WEEKS work, you STUPID PERSON. You're FAT."

To which I would like to say, "Bite me, unnecessarily angry guy! I'm doing this in anticipation of the fact that I won't have access to the Internet on Monday, because I'm spending the day WITH MY MOM. So there. And fat? Really? Have you even seen me lately?"

So without further ado, or conversations with people who might not exist, I would like to present to you

Movies I Totally Thought Were Going To Turn Out Different Because Of Retardedly False Advertising, But Really Liked Anyway Because They Were Awesome

Saved!
Jena Malone, Eva Amurri, Macaulay Culkin, Mandy Moore, Patrick Fugit

This movie came out in 2004, and if you don't remember it, don't feel bad. A lot of people don't. This is because the advertising for this movie ("OMG CHRISTIANS LOOK HOW STUPID THEY ARE LET'S LAUGH AT THEM BECAUSE THEY'RE STUPID HAHAHA") was so incredibly off-putting that no one wanted to see it. I mean, would you want to see a movie whose sole point was poking systematic, douchey fun at a system of beliefs, even if you didn't necessarily follow them?
I didn't, really, but i was 13 and Rachel picked it out when she was spending the night, and I didn't really care.
I'm glad I actually saw it, because it was fantastic and remains one of my favorite movies to this day. Instead of happy-assholing all over the place about how Christians are stupid and hilarious and we should make fun of them, it gives you kind of a nice inspirational message without being too preachy. It's more about how extremists are created, how something that is supposed to be a good thing (ie, Christianity) can get morphed into a bad thing just that easily, and instead of alienating people (which is what all the trailers showed), it should be accepted that everyone is different for a reason.
In other words, the exact polar opposite of what everyone thought it was going to be about.
You might say that's kind of a stock feel-good message, and i might say, so what? Movies don't all have to be about messing with your twists and unexpected endings and messing with your head; if they give you a simple message while being incredibly original about it, that's an awesome achievement and I applaud it. TEN GOLD STARS.

Moon
Sam Rockwell, Kevin Spacey

If I'm recalling correctly, I first saw trailers for this when I went to go see Coraline, which makes sense, I guess, given what Coraline ended up being about (those poor kids in the theater). That trailer led me to believe that it was either going to be about A) some Dead Space shit where monsters and/or aliens invade a moon base where Sam Rockwell is stationed, or B) some Stephen King shit wherein Sam Rockwell has been alone on the moon for so long with only a Kevin Spacey robot for company that he eventually just loses his goddamned mind. As I don't like scary movies (and, while i do like psychological thrillers, and anything by Stephen King as a general rule, 1408 scared the hell out of me when Jon insisted I watch it), I understandably was not too excited when Jon wanted me to watch Moon.
As it turned out, it wasn't about either of those things. What it is, is Sam Rockwell thinking he's losing his goddamned mind when really, there's something entirely different that you don't even expect going on. It does kind of mess with you for about half the movie, but it doesn't really try to; you're just following what the original Sam Rockwell is thinking, and discovering stuff at the same time as his character does.
Now, I should tell you that I love Sam Rockwell. He was the best part of Hitchhiker's Guide, and that was a terrible movie. I mean terrible. This movie further solidified what I knew all along: Sam Rockwell is a brilliant actor. They basically just gave him a movie, and rather than just just kind of trudging his way through it like a lot of other people would have, he acted his ass off and made you believe it, right up to the end. If you haven't seen Moon, see it. You won't be disappointed.


The Invention of Lying
Ricky Gervais, Jennifer Garner, Louis C.K., Rob Lowe

I have to admit, I was really curious about this movie when it came out. . . but not because of the adverts. I was more curious about the mechanics of a world where people are honest all the time, than I was about what crazy batshit lies Ricky Gervais would come up with.
The trailers don't give you very much, but what they do give you is kinda misleading. It looks like just another stupid comedy that they could've done a lot more with, but chose to just bullshit around and go "hey, wouldn't it be CRAZY if".
Zack and I rented it one night, and I have to say, I loved it. They went a lot deeper into the implications of a world without lying than I thought they would, and Ricky Gervais is a lot more likeable than I've ever seen him. Jennifer Garner is unexpectedly adorable, and the plot is WAY more developed than you'd expect from such an over-advertised movie. Rent it if you can; it's easy to love.

Funny People
Adam Sandler, Seth Rogen, Jonah Hill

When I saw the previews for this movie, I think the first thought that went through my head was "Oh. Another irreverent Apatow movie. I guess this one's about comedians or something? No thanks."
I do like Judd Apatow, don't get me wrong. Forgetting Sarah Marshall is one of my favorite movies, and I basically had the delivery experience from Knocked Up, right down to the unwanted Asian doctor. But there are only so many varieties of penis jokes one can take before it starts to get, you know. . . stale. And I've never really been a big fan of Adam Sandler.
Zack watched it the other day, and he kept telling me how much I would like it, since we have the exact same taste in movies. I had to trust him.
Right off the bat I knew it wasn't going to be what I'd originally thought. Literally the first thing that happens (and it's right in the On-Demand summary, so it's not really a "spoiler") is that Adam Sandler finds out he has a rare strain of leukemia that cannot be cured. That sets the tone for the entire movie, which is funny (because it is, after all, an Apatow film, and it does, after all, star Seth Rogen), but also kind of heartbreaking. It gave me a new level of respect for Adam Sandler as an actor, and Seth Rogen plays a completely different sort of character than his usual stoner-douchebag-with-a-heart-of-gold. This movie honestly shocked me. It gave me a completely different experience than any of the promotions for it had told me to expect. If you haven't seen it, and you don't mind wading through the dick jokes (and I have to warn you, there are a LOT), I'd absolutely recommend it.

You're Hannah Montana. You stop it.

Today at work, Hannah, I was listening to your newest single, "Can't Be Tamed". This is because they play a loop of the same twenty seconds over and over again on the big TVs. Apparently you are a major selling point? That's crazy! Congratulations for that, I guess.

Anyway, I heard a line that went, "and if you try to hold me back, I might explode." I thought for SURE this was a mistake, but then, sure enough, you said it AGAIN! I was so confused. I just kept thinking, why would she think that?

But then I realized that this might just one of those things like when someone tells you in second grade that the moon is actually made of cheese, and you're like "psh, I don't know ANYTHING about the moon, so that could totally be true."Or perhaps it's just an issue of poor clarification. So to prevent you further embarrassment (I mean, millions of people have heard this song already, so you can't very well change it now. I'd say that's pretty embarrassing), I'd clear it up for you.

You see, if someone tries to hold you back, you will not explode. I mean, sure, you might, in the same way that I might get eaten by a bear wearing a skirt in the next ten minutes, but probability dictates that there's a more than even chance you won't. Heck, if someone is trying to hold you back, it might even be because you were trying to run toward something that was about to explode. So holding you back may be, in fact, SAVING you from exploding.

I should tell you, I've been watching CSI for about six years, and while I've heard of more than a few people blowing up on that show, there has never, ever been an incident where someone has blown up from being held back. This should be of great comfort to you.

I have compiled the following handy list, and would like to suggest that you print it off and look at it hourly until you have memorized it, to prevent this sort of thing from happening in the future.

Things You "Might" Do If Someone Tries To Hold You Back:
-kick them in the balls and run
-flail around a bit until you've gotten it out of your system, then turn to them and say "thank you, I might have done something I'd regret."
-whine about it for a couple years until you realize that you're an adult and a role model to girls everywhere and you decide to start acting like one

There! I hope that cleared some things up for you. If it didn't, please feel free to leave me a comment and I will get back to you as soon as humanly possible.

One thing, though. Please be sure to sign it "Hannah Montana". Otherwise I probably won't have any idea who you are.

M is for Marmoset!

Today is Monday, and once again, I have internet but nothing interesting to write. So I decided to start this thing that I probably won't keep up with at all!

Monday starts with M, so on Mondays I will give you an M word and tell you why that M word is awesome. So here we go.

THE M WORD OF THE DAY IS. . .

MARMOSET.



Marmosets are cuddly and silly. Just think of all the fun you could have with a marmoset of your very own! You could carry one around in a sock, or teach it to sit very still on top of your head and tell people it's a hat, until they lean in close and you say "Isn't it COOL?" and then the marmoset leaps at their EFFING FACE and latches onto their nose because "cool" is the trigger word for face-leaping.

M is for Marmoset. Try to use it in a sentence at least once today.

Joe

From 3rd through 8th grade, I attended a small Catholic school. It was comprised of about three hundred people, including the teachers, and this meant that the same people staring vacantly at you with their fists in their mouths on the first day of kindergarten would probably be the first people you ever made out with.

For the entirety of that time, there was this kid in my class named Joe.




No, I didn't forget to color him in. He was just that pale. His skin had literally no color except for these two permanent patches of flush on his cheeks.

This kid was the embodiment of every shy, awkward kid you sort of remember from elementary school, but don't quite, because they never said anything. For a long time me and Joe were pretty much in the same boat, as far as social awkwardness goes, and we were sort of friends, at least in that weird way that boys and girls who don't really talk to anyone at all can be friends. I remember him sticking up for me a couple times, and us joking around in detention together. He got sort of popular around seventh grade, when the other kids started figuring out that self-expression and weirdness were cool, but he was always really nice to me.

Joe had a couple problems, though, and because they were class-related, everyone knew about them.
First, Joe NEVER did his homework. I'm not exaggerating this at all. Joe did not do his homework once in that five years that I knew him. Whatever teacher we had would loudly despair of it, his parents were always called, and study plans were made, but still Joe just wouldn't do his homework. He somehow managed to pass every year, and he wasn't a stupid kid by any means, so I'm still not sure why that was, but it was, just the same.
Second, Joe had the messiest desk you have ever seen ever. This also never changed, despite even more notes to his mom and bi-monthly class-wide desk-cleaning blitzes designed purely for his benefit. You could see him working, and he was clearly trying very hard, but nothing ever happened. That desk just wanted to stay messy.

Our fifth grade teacher was kind of a bitch. There's not really any other way to say it. She was one of those people who always seem like they are having a bad day that has nothing to do with you. You know, the kind where the conversation goes like this:

"Hey, do you want to do something? Maybe we can go bowling."
"*long stare, drawn-out sigh* Yeah. Sure."
"I mean, is that okay? We don't have to."
"NOPE. BOWLING IS JUST FINE."

And you're not really sure how to react, except that you KNOW you can't say anything about it because then they will be an even bigger jerk. So you're just walking on eggshells around them and being very cautious about everything you say, while shooting them terrified glances to see if maybe they're in a better mood yet.

Yeah. That was most of fifth grade for me and the other thirty kids in my class.

One day in early spring, Joe and his, er, "problems" were the trigger for this teacher's complete psychotic breakdown.

It started off as a pretty normal day. Mrs. Teacher began the class by asking for our homework from the previous day. Papers rustled as everyone passed their sheets of looseleaf to their neighbor, then to the next, and so forth. Joe, as usual, didn't have anything to turn in, but by then we had learned not to think anything of it. The whole time, Teacher's eyes never left Joe.

When the papers finally all made their way to Teacher's desk, she asked, in a very loud voice, "Where's your homework, Joe?"

We all looked at Joe. He was utterly bewildered. I mean, everybody knew about it, and sure, the teachers got upset, but no one had ever gone so far as to assume that Joe would actually do his homework.



The whole class turned collectively to Teacher to see what she would do.

She walked very slowly to Joe's desk. She leaned down and looked him in the eye.

And then this happened.









She didn't come back to work after that.




**EDIT: Joe: The Sort-Of Sequel

You're welcome.

I realize that I have been neglecting this blog, and for that I apologize. I don't have the internet at my house, so I kind of have to just be happy with whatever web-time I can grab while hanging out with someone else, and I usually don't have anything interesting to say at those times because I am distracted, or I just can't think of anything.

So I guess you should really be happy with the fact that I don't post something every time I get online, because if I DID, it would look something like this.

"Today I hung out with Jon, and we watched America's next Top Model and made fun of Miss J."

"Today Jon and I watched Moon. Sam Rockwell what?!"

"Today Jon and I hung out and we made fun of Miss J while watching America's Next Top Model."

"I like smells. I like weird smells."

"I have a cat. He's fat and funny. *commence three pages about how my cat is funny that you don't care about*"

"Zack and I went on a date! We got sushi! Have I ever told you guys how much I like sushi? Because I like it a LOT."

"Today, I watched America's Next Top Model with Jon, and we talked about what a gimmicky douchebag Miss J is."

This has forced me to admit to all of you that I am an incredibly boring person. No, really. Most of the time I am sitting around in my pajamas watching TV. Not even new shows! Reruns. Or cancelled shows on DVD. When I AM around people, I pretty much do the same thing. If they have internet, I'll bring my laptop over and sit on their couch going through ICanHasCheezburger and being like "HEY LOOK GUYS, LOOK AT THESE PICTURES. AREN'T THEY FUNNY? LOOK, THAT CAT IS IN A PRINGLES CAN."

HA. HAHAHAHA.

Sometimes, when I blog, I feel a lot more interesting than I really am. I guess my being interesting lies in the ability to tell a story that I am involved in, in a humorous way.

Which is really what you all come to me for, right?

Angry Ghost Husbands Are Why Famke Janssen Can't Have Nice Things

I just looked this movie up and it's actually called 100 Feet, which makes sense, but I like my title (up there in the subject line!) a lot better. The basic premise of this movie is that Famke Janssen had a husband who was a cop. He used to beat her, so she tried to divorce him, and he came at her with a knife, she got it away from him and killed him. She explains all this in a monologue to some Italian kid who I think lives down the street, within the first ten or fifteen minutes of the movie.

So she kills him, and then she goes to prison for two years, because it's just self-defense. Then when she gets out, they put her on a tether and send her back to the house she murdered her abusive cop husband in, and tell her she's under house arrest for something like another two years.

I'm sorry, what?

I'm not even kidding. That's the premise for this movie. Of course you find out that her dead husband's ghost and it wants to kill her and actually ***SPOILER ALERT*** kills Italian Kid From Down The Street, because she's totally doing him. It ruined this really nice moment, such a nice moment in fact that I thought the movie was actually over. But then of course the ghost husband shows up and busts out Italian Kid From Down The Street's jaw, and then the second naked guy from The Ten shows up (except he's not naked this time, he's a cop, and you're supposed to take him seriously) and I'm not sure what happens after that because Kirsten came over to watch Daria and I WAS SCARED, OKAY?

Anyway, the point of this entry is to tell you guys about this WHOLLY RETARDED tendency I have to watch horror movies on cable when I'm home by myself. I'll catch one when I'm flipping channels, be intrigued by what I see, and keep flipping back to it when America's Next Top Model is on a commercial break. Since they always look stupid when I come in, I'll just think "well this is funny!" and tell myself I'll just flip the channel if I get too scared. But of course I never do, which results in me watching things like House Of Wax and Jeepers Creepers and being terrified to sleep for the next few days.

This also happened with Wolverine, to be fair, with the only difference being that Zack and I watched it On Demand.

BUT IN MY DEFENSE, DEADPOOL WAS SCARY.



"SUP, KEL. SO HEY, I KNOW I'M RYAN REYNOLDS AND YOU TOTALLY THINK I'M SEXY, AND I'M SUPPOSED TO BE HILARIOUS, BUT TONIGHT I'LL BE POPPING UP IN YOUR DREAMS NOT TO TAKE YOU OUT FOR A FANCY DINNER BUT TO TEAR YOUR STUPID FACE OFF."

Anyway. I hope this post was worth the wait.