Ode to a Childhood Toy

So I was able to see Toy Story 3 at midnight Thursday night (or Friday morning?) and I'm so glad I did. I saw it next to a friend of mine I've known since second grade and promised that I would see the movie with them in high school. We did. It was absolutely amazing. In case you haven't read the bios on this blog, I'm 19 years old. I saw the first two in the movie theatre way back when, and I still revisit them on my VHS. When I was little, I convinced myself that while I was gone my Barbies, horse figurines, Power Rangers, dinosaurs, and the GI Joes I stole from my brother went on adventures together, much like Andy's motley crew of play things. As the third movie came to a close, I cried, like I do at most movies, but for different reasons.

I don't think there's many movie trilogies that literally grew up with its original audience. When the first movie came out, I was living a life similar to Andy. I was a little kid with a dog, a little sibling, and a bunch of toys playing out huge adventures in my head. As twelve years passed between the second movie and the third movie, I grew up. I was just in Andy's shoes last year, going off the college with a very old dog, a now-pubescent sibling, and a bunch of toys in storage, neglected in the corners of my room, or out on the curb. Sure, I kept the ones that had memories attached to them-a pink flamingo my dad bought me when he was stuck in a Florida airport on my birthday, Ugly Dolls because I still love them-but, I've been getting rid of the toys that are broken and sending anything that is still in one piece or has all its pieces together to various foundations or my attic.

There's something really bizarre about sitting in a movie theatre and seeing that the kid on screen that you identified with in a weird way was as grown up as you were by the end of the film. While I highly doubt that most of us would be able to be as selfless as Andy was at the end of the movie, us viewers that are 17-20something know very well what it's like to be in-between two versions of yourself- a high school senior and a college freshman-and be totally aware of it.



Like Andy, we all had That Toy. You know what I'm talking about. The one that is in every photo in your family's album. The one that your parents mention you toting around. The one your mom not only threw in some form of a washer on several occasions, but made sure to check the instructions so it wouldn't get damage. That toy was your best friend, especially when you really didn't know the word for it yet. For me, that was Brown Dog, a furry brown creature of no real breed with plastic brown eyes and suede paws. He was given to me via my mom at my baby shower, and I don't think he's left me since. He's endured millions of hugs, vacations across the eastern seaboard, and a few washings that resulted in his fur being matted and his stuffing isn't distributed properly. While Kimberly the Pink Ranger occasionally seemed as if she would replace him, she never did. He was the Woody to my Andy. Sure, he was low tech, kind of floppy, and legitimately older than me, but he was my Brown Dog.

When college ended up becoming more than just a fantasy of sorts, I initially decided that Brown Dog deserved a retirement. After serving 18 years as my best friend, he deserved to perch on my bed at home and not have to do anything for a long, long while.



I decided last second to bring Brown Dog. I thew him in a green cube with my posters and DVDs and brought him to Rutgers, where he lounged on my best, went on a free trip to Florida, and even got caught in a makeout session between me and my SO. But what's hilarious about the life of Brown Dog is that college gave him a comeback- people would go into my room and take him off his spot on my bed and on their head, or on their shoulder, or just gave him a hug. He's been tagged on Facebook and now has a fanpage which you should be a fan of. Brown Dog isn't exactly everyone's childhood toy, but he reminds them of that time.

The only thing I will never understand is how make believe, pretend, making up stories is so great and so cherished when you're little, and yet we can't play pretend unless we're doing kinky shit in the bedroom when we get older. Sure, it's probably not a good idea to jump around in your room and be like "I'm a fairy princess yayyy!", but that doesn't mean that you can't play pretend in your own way. Write something. Seriously, just write it. Put your pretend on paper. Hang on to your One Toy and hope to pass them down to someone, or just hang onto them. Be aware of your inner child, because if you take yourself too seriously, you're going to lose it. And that's what Toy Story 3 has taught me to embrace. Crazy, but true.

I'll write something more serious/commentary-based in a little bit. For now, just think about this. If you want, become a fan of Brown Dog on Facebook. Feel free to comment about your childhood friend :) Or even say what you think of the movie!

Status Update 101

I've had a Twitter for over a year now. I only got one, because a lot of my friends from Livejournal started to get them. I liked the idea of being able to just have a site that is basically status updates, so I didn't have to read ridiculously long blog posts to figure out what my friends were up to. I also liked that a lot of bands/celebrities/whatevers were getting them, too, so I could know what AFI was up to in their vague updates about their upcoming album. Then newstations began to be aware of it, and proceeded to tell people about the site, resulting in even my little brother getting an account (awkward). But, whatever. It's a lot of fun and I've gotten Adam Lambert's bassist (the guy that made out with him on national television) to say that he was a free bitch.

After a year of tweeting, I've gotten pretty good at it. I can put quite a bit of emotion in 140 characters. I'm not always brilliant (I have over 6,000 tweets, I had to have flopped sometimes), but I know how to update and not be obnoxious or at least to a point that I've lost all my followers. What's cool is that this talent extends into your Facebook status update abilities. I will suggest not linking your Facebook and your Twitter together, because your nerdy internet life that consists of you reading fanfic about American Idol contestants can and will be revealed. And I can also give you suggestions on how to make a decent Facebook status!

I know what you're thinking: Why the hell do you have the authority to tell me how to update my status? Well, honey, I'm blessed with an extensive internet life. I'm suffering for my digital art so you don't have to. So come on and sit in Ma(ma) Donner's lap so she can give you some tips on how to make status updates that people won't bitch about while they're stalking your profile:


1. Everyone Poops
A lot of people hate on tstuatus updates, because they don't like "reading about what a person had for breakfast." Guess what, bbs? We all do. Writing about the mundane is pretty unnecessary. We all get up in the morning, make our way for an AM pee, go to the kitchen and eat breakfast, then go off to school/work. The only time you should status update about this is if you do something out of the ordinary. If you woke up at four pm and missed all your classes, that's pretty impressive and status update-worthy. If you tried to pour out your cereal and your little sister's gerbil fell out of it, that's kind of status update worthy and picture worthy, so get that shit on your mobile uploads. If your school is under a bomb threat and you need to get your bad checked, that counts for an update, too (please see the example above). Another good one is if you miss the bus, which leads me to number two...


2. Schadenfreude is alive and well.
Even though we're a society constructed on Lifetime movies and Hallmark cards, we love to see people fall flat on their face. Why else would there be those weeks worth of American Idol auditions, a loud sound of laughter when an actor flubs their lines on stage, and videos on Youtube dedicated to old ladies falling? We like to watch people fail. As long as you can handle the thought of everyone from your baby cousin that's way too young to have a Facebook to your best friend laughing at your misfortune, update about it. Get an automatic door closed on you? Update. Fall on a really hot girl? Why the hell not? Step in dog shit? Hey, that's considered good luck. And before you ask, I've done all of these things and stauts updated only the first two. Onward to number three...

[I don't have a plus one to call myself out on lolol]
3. No one gives a shit about your +1
Look, we're all really happy that you've found someone. Honest. Society has taught us to be on a constant watch for someone else to spend our life with, and you did. Hooray. Update your relationship status to "in a relationship." I might even like the status if I approve of your significant other. But for the love of God, don't constantly update about it. No one gives a shit if you're going to "spend the day with my boo <3333" Ew. Gag me. And no one gives a shit if you're "celebrating my three week anniversary with my sweetheart xoxoxo" That's not an anniversary, sweetheart. I popped the word into dictionary.com and go this:

the yearly recurrence of the date of a past event: the tenth anniversary of their marriage.

So ultimate, your one month anniversary? Doesn't make sense.

I should, however, point out that I'm not saying that you should not talk about your significant other at all. That's not true. Anniversaries (at least the one that applies to the definition of anniversaries) are kind of a huge deal, especially when you're a "young adult." You have every right to status update about that! I would even go so far to say that you can brag about half years, too! There's nothing wrong with that. But all the months inbetween, keep yourself together. Only update if your significant other does something particularly awesome (for example, my friend's Berklee student metalhead boyfriend randomly started to quote Lady GaGa lyrics. That's pretty awesome). So let's just dance down to number four!


4. Stop feeling sorry for your sorrow.
If you actually have average sleep (which is eight hours, a number I envy), you're somewhat conscious about sixteen hours a day. You can't expect all sixteen hours of your day to be fabulous. And while it's probably involuntary to go straight to your status update and cry about whatever made you upset (see above), you probably shouldn't. Updating your status is kind of like contemplating punching someone in the face- give yourself fifteen minutes. If you're still kind of bummed, update. Maybe even ask if anyone will want to talk to you and help you come to terms with whatever degree of bummage you're feeling. But also, don't update constantly about your sadness. While sad stuff sucks a lot, you can't be overbearing to everyone else on your feed. There's people that are just as sad as you are, and seeing your sad posts constantly will make them sadder and there's people that are happy while checking their feeds, and seeing negative posts will kill their buzz. You don't want to be that guy. So update wisely when it comes to sad stuff. And finally...

5. SPELLCHECK YER WORK.
Please, for the love of God and all that is holy, have a vague idea of the English language when you're updating your status. No StIcKy CaPs. NO Odd WAYZ OF CAPiTALiZiNG. sum vage idee of th englizh languge. And just basic captilization. That's all I ask for.

And there you go! I hope you all take this to heart and apply it to your status updates! I really hope that you'll get more liked statuses and less eyerolls when people Facebookstalk you!

All my love,
Donna