ladybugs and luckđ
the typical september twists and turns. . .and october while weâre at it
I like to think that ladybugs bring me luck. When my familyâs house was still being built, they thought it a great idea to bring a little four-year-old along to the construction site. I canât say I was too impressed. I canât say I even remember the event, really. What I do remember is there being a ladybug in the corner of the ceiling of what would eventually become my childhood bedroom. Iâm not sure who it was who told me, but they assured me: ladybugs are lucky. I thought it was brilliant. A tiny creature who would sprinkle luck all over my room. And it was a lucky room, for the most part. It survived a hurricane a few weeks after we had moved in-and a great deal more after that. It kept me safe each night, even when I was scared of the lightning through my window. It went through makeover after makeover; countless bed moves, glue stains, and J-14 posters. I like to think Iâm a logical person, but whenever I reminisce about my time in that house in that wonderfully picturesque, slightly haunting suburb, I thank that little ladybug who let my room be my own happy place. My âlairâ as my family says.
Now itâs twenty-something years later. Iâm in a different bedroom, still considered childhood I think. I have new ladybugs from time to time. I had a ladybug visitor for a few days this past week. âAh, thatâs good luck!â says my dad when I tell him. But I havenât felt too lucky recently. Layoffs and illness and bittersweet sibling visits that remind me that Iâm not in my original childhood bedroom any more. Humbling experiences with diaper rash cream and waiting rooms where Iâm the youngest one there. Pathetic tears after interview stress. I kept looking at the ladybug flinging itself against my ceiling fan and diving into my floor lamp. I started resenting this little creature. How can something whose sole instinct typically leads to its demise bring such luck? The poor thing will just end up sun-bleached on my windowsill. By the end of the week, I realized my room was too quiet in the evening. My ladybug friend had left, probably flew or crawled elsewhere in the house. Thatâs the logical reasoning. But really, I felt that it had left because it sensed my belief in it withering. I gave up on the ladybug, and I gave up on the little girl who was so full of wonder whenever a one landed on her finger, infusing her with luck.
As I spent the past week wavering in my ladybug faith, I watched and read and scrapbooked to distract from the fact I had disappointed my younger self.
Film
The Adjustment Bureau was not what I had thought it would be. Every week, my best friend and I watch a movie. Our selection ranges from Netflix originals (always a silly time) to Al Pacino to JLo to the entire After series. Weâve had The Adjustment Bureau on our watchlist for some time, but either we havenât been alert enough to watch a drama, or the title would disappear each time we suggested it. When we saw it was about to leave once more, we were set on watching a Matt Damon movie. Once we discovered it was a sci-fi romance movie, we were sold. Looking at the film poster and the title, one would think The Adjustment Bureau is a political thriller of some sort, and there is a political element with Matt Damon âs character running for state senate. But really, this is a love story. An unconvincing love story, specifically.
This film wants us to root for David and Elise, especially because they are fighting against the whole universe to be together. But the characters donât really spend that much time together throughout the story. A brief meeting in a bathroom, a brief bus ride, a stint three years later that could not have even lasted a month, and a wild chase across New York a month after that. I donât buy it. The hats are fun, though. The Adjustment Bureau guys? They have magic hats.
Rumor Has It is a rewatch like no other. A film that haunts my every thought. A completely insane plot hiding underneath a Jennifer Aniston romcomâso insane, I could barely believe it the first time I watched it. Picture this: Jennifer Aniston is a journalist (loosely described) bringing her beau, Mark Ruffalo, home to her sisterâs wedding in her hometown of Pasadena. Pasadenaâs lovely. Itâs got big houses, baseball, and a rumor mill so large, it inspired a book and the movie, The Graduate.
The film starts with a solid, early 2000s romcom introduction. A title card reading, âbased on a true rumorâ and directed by Rob Reiner? Absolutely. That is just the fun Iâve been needing. If youâre not familiar with the plot of The Graduate, Iâll be brief. Boy meets girl. Boy meets girlâs mother. Girlâs mother (aka Mrs. Robinson) tries to seduce him. She succeeds. Boy runs away with girl at her own wedding as Simon and Garfunkel eerily plays into the credits. And Jennifer Anistonâs Pasadena? Well this Cali town is the real life inspiration. Itâs a rumor thatâs floated around for years, but it picks up speed as Jennifer Anistonâs Sarah travels home for her younger sisterâs wedding. Sheâs actually recently engaged to Mark Ruffalo and bringing him to sunny, scandalous Pasadena to meet her family for the first time.
Letâs meet the family, too. Thereâs Sarahâs little sister, Annie, whoâs getting married with a great deal of energy and naivety. Sarahâs dad, Earl, who I didnât even realize was named âEarlâ until the end of the film. A widow and former high school soccer player (the latter of which will be important later). Sarahâs diva of a grandmother, Katharine, who seems to have a glass in her hand at all times. Shirley MacLaine is quite fun in this role, and sheâs the catalyst for the plotâspilling that before her own wedding, Sarahâs mother ran off to Cabo with a man who was not Earl. Sarah investigates further at Kathy Batesâs houseâI mean Aunt Mistyâs houseâand learns her mother was quite close with a man named Beau Burroughs. And Beau Burroughs may also have been quite close to Katharine in a Mrs. Robinson capacity. And Sarahâs family just may be THE inspiration for The Graduate. Thatâs a lot of family secrets to learn right before your sisterâs wedding. It also doesnât help when Mark Ruffalo comments that Sarahâs parents must have been quick to have her. The wheels start spinning more. Internal panic sets in. Jennifer Aniston is standing at the altar with a look of dread on her face similar to Arnold when he steps on the Magic School Bus. âPlease donât let my real dad be Beau Burroughs. . .no way!â
What will Sarah do now? Well, just as any good journalist/obituary writer would, she sets off to find the infamous Beau Burroughs, played by Kevin Costner. And yes, this man is almost exclusively referred to by his full name. Now, I like to categorize Rumor Has It as âa movie where everything happens, but nothing happens at the same time.â I canât always explain my reasoning, but more or less, it means the action of the film is a bit lackluster. Once Sarah embarks on her mission and meets Beau Burroughs, I couldnât really tell you what happens. She quickly learns he cannot be her father due to a high school soccer game gone wrong. She swoons as they eat dinner in a Chinese restaurant. She winds up waking up in his bed. Thereâs private planes and a big gala. Meanwhile, Mark Ruffalo has no idea whatâs going on. I have no idea whatâs going on. All I know is that Beau Burroughs has managed to bed three generations of women all within the same family. Impressive. Icky. Insane. Who came up with this idea? Mr. Reiner, Iâm losing my mind.
Letâs wrap it up, shall we? If I have to write âBeau Burroughsâ one more time, Iâll never finish this post. I bring you to the best line in the film; as Sarah locks lips with a man who got with her mom and grandmother, Mark Ruffalo winces âI hope thatâs not your father.â Finally, some face-to-face conflict. Understandably, Mark RuffaloâI mean Jeffâis upset seeing his fiancĂ© kiss a man old enough to be her father and for all he knows, a man who could be her literal father. Sarah canât really explain her feelings and actions right away, either. Though, I think the wise words of millionaire-womanizer Beau Burroughs can help frame this unnamed wanting Sarahâs had since the start of the film. A want to fit in with her family. A want to understand why she feels so different. A want to be happy for herself and Jeff. See, it feels as if Sarah has been leading her life relatively safe till now. She stays safe writing obituaries and wedding announcements and not much else. She stays safe keeping Jeff from her family. She stays safe never seeking out the answers to her familial concerns. Now, that sheâs started to unravel her life, everything feels overwhelming, but âlife should be a little nuts. If not, itâs just a bunch of Thursdays strung together.â
Now, I wonât spoil Rumor Has It for you completely, but I will tell you that Beau Burroughs gets whatâs coming to him full circle, and Sarah ends the film with a better understanding of her family and herself. Mark Ruffalo is there, too, making silly character choices till the very end.
Along Came Polly was dare I say. . .diabolical. Not even Phillip Seymour Hoffman could save this film. It felt like a safe bet and easy watch based on the synopsis: after Ben Stillerâs character is abandoned on his honeymoon, he reconnects with a woman from his past and learns to let loose, which is hard for him to do. Plus, I find a lot of comfort seeing Jennifer Aniston on my screen. Which is why, after seeing this, I put on Dumplin later in the week to make up for Along Came Polly and its characters. Polly herself relies on the early 2000s quirky blast from the past persona, Ben Stillerâs Reuben is simply foolish despite his success as a risk assessor (ie: buys a house without telling his new wife, continues to eat food that makes him ill, ruins Pollyâs embroidered-by-her-grandmotherâs hand towel by clogging it in her toilet, makes a pros and cons list between Polly and Lisa and leaves it out in the open for Polly to read, etc.). And Lisa?! Lisa is evil. Leaving your new husband Day One of your honeymoon is despicable. Sure, best friend and has-been actor Sandy Lyle is entertaining in his attempt to derail a production of Jesus Christ Superstar and relive former glories, but thereâs only so much Phillip Seymour Hoffman can do to make the side plot of filming of an E! True Hollywood Story amusing.
Iâm in disbelief just writing that last sentence.
After all of this, I must regretfully say this film culminates in Ben Stillerâs character eating bar nuts off the bare streets of New York City. The emotional climax of Along Came Polly is a man professing and proving his love (debatable) to a woman he honestly doesnât know that well as he shovels filthy peanuts in his mouth. Whatever theme of finding yourself/taking risks/letting go of the past I experienced, it fell flat at this point. Well, the film was falling the first ninety minutes. This moment was like. . .smacking your head on the curb.
TV
I did a Bridgerton rewatch mainly because I wanted to watch season two again, but I like to see the lead up to each character from the first season.
Now I love Bridgerton. Itâs a fun, silly, entertaining time. And every rewatch confirms my opinions more: season one is enjoyable, though the Duke and Daphne are just fine; season two is elite, and Kate and Anthony light up the screen every time theyâre on screen; and season three is enjoyable too, but itâs disjointed in its structure. The breaking up of the the season is unnecessary, and while weâve seen Colin and Penelope interactions since season one, their getting together in season three feels rushed. The pacing between the previous couples flowed well whereas Colin and Penelopeâs coupling does not feel as authentic within the world of the show. But maybe thatâs just because I havenât found Colin interesting enough to pay attention to him, let alone root for him. I love seeing Penelope in her shining season, but then Colin is just there. . .and he annoys me sometimes.
Putting that man aside, there are still bits and pieces of season three that I really like. Francesca getting screen time and developing the beginning of her storyline. Violet letting herself live and love again. The Mondrichs entering this new society. Cressida going completely off script. But, this rewatch made it clear that these fun developments donât make up for Kate and Anthonyâs more surface-level married life, Daphneâs absence (especially when her and Colin have a pretty strong sibling relationship in the books), and the uncertainty of what exactly to do with Benedictâs character. Still, Iâm excited for the next season with Benedict and Sophie front and center. Though with the muttering coming from the television world, I think we will all be waiting some time.
Books
Deadly by Sara Shepard was a nice return to Rosewood hysteria and extreme DiLaurentis antics. The fourteenth installment of Pretty Little Liars sees Hanna, Aria, Emily, and Spencer starting to feel slightly at ease. Theyâre gaining allies in family, friends, and agents. Mike is in on the A situation, Noel is recovering and not wrapped up in Real Aliâs plans as the Liars previously thought, and even Melissa is in Spencerâs corner. The Liars reveal everything: Tabitha and Jamaica, Graham and the cruise, their theory of an A helper, stolen paintings, framed roommates, runaway girlfriends, and car accident coverups. Everything is going well for the girls. . .which means everything will quickly turn on them. So far that they almost get extradited. Extradited. Itâs a predictable plot line-though maybe after sixteen books, Sara Shepardâs writing is second nature-but itâs not as far out as some of the others. It reminded me of how solid the first two arcs of the series and the first two seasons of the show are in balancing the outlandish moments with the mystery of A.
I will say that the plot twist at the end of the novel was very fun and one I didnât see coming. Introducing the separate Phineas, Derrick, Jackson, and Olaf characters throughout the last handful of books, just briefly enough, made the Nick reveal genuinely surprising. As readers, we already know that Shepard lays out the overarching plot in advance based on the mini prologue pages of each book, but this one has been brewing since books nine and ten. I know with Crushed, I was a bit tired of the previous arc bleeding into this one, but Iâve changed my tune. Overall, Deadly is fun, fast-paced, and most reminiscent of the show.
Also, this read funnily reminded me that Mikeâs full name, in the books at least, is Michaelangelo. Ella and Byron name their son Michaelangelo Montgomery. That is shocking to me. Thatâs more shocking to me than:
the DiLaurentis twin reveal
Emily and the baby
Melissa dating Darren Wilden
Jenna actually ending up an innocent victim (very different from show Jenna)
Aria and Noel bonding at a seance
The Other Ten Books I Read After the Hurricane While The Power Was Out were quick reads. Once the trees were chainsawed down and dragged from the driveway, once I realized I couldnât even walk around the neighborhood without dodging tree trunks blocking the street and branches covering cars, there wasnât much to do besides grab a book and hope for the air conditioning to come back on. I started with the last two books in the Pretty Little Liars series, and I devoured them. It was a whirlwind. A questionable whirlwind. Just as it was with the show, I felt it weird to bring back Wren, but at least he got to live. . .and remain in human form.
Then, I tackled some Emily Henry. I gave Book Lovers a reread and quickly confirmed that it is my favorite of her books. Then I finally read Happy Place and quickly confirmed that it was my least favorite of her books. So sorry to Harriet. Not as sorry to Wynn. I got a little mad when I read he was living above Freeman Books. Thatâs not for you! Anyway, I really canât explain why I wasnât as keen on the main couple as I have been with Henryâs characters in the past. Honestly, I was more invested in the friendship between Harriet, Sabrina, and Cleo. Emily Henry always gets me invested in her âside charactersâ and I respect that.
Next up, I Know What You Did Last Summer by Lois Duncan. Thatâs right, most of your favorite movies are probably book adaptations. But Duncanâs novel was first published in the 70s, and she actually was not a fan of the slasher adaptation. While the movie relies on horror and 90s drama, the book focuses more on psychological scares, and the characters are more distant from each other than they are in the movie. The biggest difference in I Know What You Did Last Summer is the hit and run itself. In the movie, Julie, Helen, Barry, and Ray never find out the identity of their victim until after they receive the threatening notes. The tone feels different in the book as they hit a little boy on a bicycle and leave him on the road. The charactersâ guiltâbut letâs be honest Barry feels little to nothing, heâs rottenâis more palpable on the page. It gives them more depth than final girls and jump scares, and I can see why Duncan felt the film cheapened the source material.
After a week without power, cell service, and air conditioning, I saw myself revisiting the Truly Devious series by Maureen Johnson. Now this is a fun series, and I especially enjoy the format of each book. Flashbacks, police interviews, and journal entries are intertwined in the present day as amateur detective Stevie Bell sets off for the prestigious and elusive Ellingham Academy with the hopes of solving a ninety-year-old cold case. Some moments are predictable, but most I was exceptionally surprised with. Maureen Johnson, when you werenât reminding me of the hit 1996 musical, Rent, you were keeping me on my toes. The first three books follow Stevie investigating the Ellingham case, and The Box in the Woods and Nine Liars follow individual mysteries. Whatâs interesting about the latter books is that Stevie has to confront her passion for detective work and her discomfort with recent cases with real people. Johnson doesnât stray away from touching on the ethics of true crime, though I would have like to have seen more of this view in Nine Liars.
Lastly, I picked Emma back up for a complete read. I donât think I had ever finished it. I did have to have breaks in between a handful of chapters while reading. The heat was making it difficult to focus, and the small print of the text was straining my eyes even with my book light. As well as a reread, Iâm planning on a rewatch of Emma as well. The 2009 BBC miniseries starring Romola Garai, of course. Everyone say âThank you, Sandy Welch!â
Beauty
The Youth to the People Cleanser, you know the green-kale-whatever cleanser, is actually great for my skin. Iâve seen a lot of comments that this cleanser dries out peopleâs skin, but thatâs not the case for me. Of course, I never would have picked up anything Youth to the People given the price tag and the risk of breaking out my skin on âfancy skincare,â but I decided I could be fancy with my Sephora free birthday gift. And given how many drug store cleansers Iâve purchased, cursed for making my skin worse, and left under my bathroom sink, thereâs some kind of logic. . .somewhere. Thereâs cost-effective math. . .somewhere, but I was an English major and AP Calculus scarred me for life. I donât do math anymore.
Crafts
Junk Journals started appearing all over my FYP, and I have no clue how I hadnât heard of them till now. Do you hold on to small tokens, notes, pictures, etc. but not know what to do with them? Do you feel as if youâre hurting those itemsâ feelings or disgracing the memories associated with them if you store them away in a drawer or worse. . .throw them away? Well I do, because all my life Iâve felt things a bit too much. So, when I discovered I could collage all of my memories and such into a journal, I sorted through all of my blank notebooks to find the sturdiest one. And when none of them were sturdy enough, I went to Target. Plus, I needed a glue stick. Iâve learned so far that placing everything in just the right place and gluing each layer takes time. More time than I expected. Still, itâs satisfying to finish a page, and it pulls at my heart a bit when I come across movie tickets from middle school and valentines from my sweet college friends.
I decided after many years, I needed a new desk chair. How many years you say? At least twelve. I have a tendency to keep things past their prime. Despite the lack of back support, lack of arm rests, lack of cushion, and the lingering cushioning actually falling out of the seat, I didnât want to let the chair go. As Iâve mentioned, I feel that if I get rid of things Iâve had for yearsâsince childhoodâIâm throwing away the memories I have too. My neon pink chair matched my pink walls, and it supported me (literally) through hours of homework and computer games. I memorized my times tables in that chair. I made an entire picture book about the curse of the House of Tantalus in that chair. I caught (and let go) many a suspect playing Where in the USA is Carmen San Diego in that chair. I wasnât very good remembering to issue warrants. Alas, I had to let her go. In all of her pink, early 2000s glory.
It wasnât an easy task and neither was putting the new chair together. No pieces were warped or broken. Everything fit into place. So why did I basically have to straddle this chair to screw in the arm rests? After an episode and a half of SVU, I was successful and sore. I truly did not expect my thighs to fall victim to my mediocre handiwork, but at least I have a sturdy and supportive chair. And itâs green!
Music
Did someone say new playlist? I did. I said new playlist. And the vibes this time around were early oughts romcom soundtrack. Sometimes you need a boppy, upbeat song to play in the background of your daily delusions. I needed to blast KT Tunstall while I folded my laundry and organized my DVD collection. Iâve had âCanât Fight the Moonlightâ on repeat all week. It needs some tweaking, but it helped me through the last few days. Having Kelly Clarkson and co. quietly float into my ears distracted me enough to get through my work and not doomscroll too much.
I started this entry at the end of September, and even now in November, and I didnât think my mention of hurricane weather would be so fitting. After the rain and wind and lightning stopped, I could finally hear the soft *tink tink* of a dainty ladybug bumping its head on my wall. This may just indicate that thereâs a hole in a window somewhere, letting all these ladybugs in, but I think Iâll accept it as an influx of luck. I have to, or else the world feels more unsettling. Scary. Iâve never been one to even fathom a higher power, but I like to think the universe lets things fall as it sees fit. It sends me a ladybug to prepare me for an uprooted tree that will just miss my house. While fences broke in three places and window seals broke, while I spent my evenings cooking up chicken over a portable stove before the freezer went completely bad, my mother kept reminding me âweâre very lucky.â And I knew it.
Iâm not sure how I feel about this second post. I think I left it too long. Going back to write about the movies and shows and books that I had consumed more than a month ago was tricky, and I couldnât get back into the voice I had started with. Though, if I never finished it, I donât think I would be able to start anew. So bear with my discombobulated musings this week. Iâm sure Iâll have something more cohesive and lively in a few days.
And Iâll let you know if a new ladybug friend pops by.
Thanks for tuning in.