I'm not taking no fuckin' responsibility for cats I don't know, man.
When I was 20ish and home from college, I got blind drunk and left the keys to my parent's apartment at my friend's place. I called them at 4:30 AM from a taxi to incoherently beg them to unlock the door, which wouldn't have been that bad except I did it over and over again until I got to their building. When I walked in, they had turned all the lights on and were sitting in the living room staring blankly into the distance and refusing to speak/acknowledge my arrival. They were both wearing conical party hats.
This lasted for five (very confusing to my saturated brain) minutes until my dad (still wordlessly) handed me a cigarette.
This is a thing I enjoy.
Jean Hagan should have won all the awards just for the way she pronounced the word "sue."
Now that is an incredibly elaborate way of woman-splaining away the incredibly mysoginistic way her character is written. But I thank you for this piece. On my million re-viewings of Singin in the Rain I usually just fast forward to the dance scenes (and Cyd Charisse....oh, my lovely Cyd...) and have never paid much attention to Lina. I will certainly pay more attention to her next time around.
When I was in college I wrote columns for the paper. They were fairly political, and I was a huge lefty. My grandmother, who attended Nixon's inauguration and was a staunch Texas Repub, was not wild about them. I wrote one particularly left wing one and she sent me this BRUTAL note talking about how she "thought about writing the Editor directly, but decided I'd write you instead. It's time we separate the wheat from the chaff..." totally tore me a new one, politically. I called my dad and read it aloud to him and said something like "DUDE. SHE'S MY GRANDMA. SHE SHOULD BE BAKING ME COOKIES!" I heard nothing for a week. Then I got an unmarked package in the mail with no return address. There were six dozen cookies inside. No note.
When I was a kid, my Dad used to tell me, "eat your food, there are children starving in Bethesda."
This was a hilarious play on the whole "children starving in X poor country" joke, which I was not familiar with, because Bethesda is one of the richest suburbs of DC where I grew up, which I also did not know.
So, once I was hanging out with my best friend's family and they were visiting a cousin in Bethesda, and I very solemnly informed them that there were children starving there.
When I was about 13, I found a photo album in my grandmother's house. It featured a young woman who was clearly my mom, wearing a poofy white wedding dress. She stood alongside a mysterious mustached man.
When I ask my mom who it was, she replied, "Oh, that's my first husband."
???? First husband? When I asked why she never told me, she replied, "Because you never asked."
Ugh once as a little kid I had accidentally locked myself into my parents' bedroom and promptly fell asleep. I was a pretty heavy sleeper and my family was trying everything to wake me up. Finally my dad started chanting "Wake up, we're going for ice cream! Wake up, we're going for ice cream!" Well, that definitely got me up and out the door, but we NEVER went for ice cream that night. I'm still mad. 30 years later.
My brother's the baby of our extended family. We forget to tell him things a lot. He swears he didn't know our aunt was a twin until well into elementary school. He thought he had one very attentive aunt who changed clothes a lot. He found out when he saw them together.
@Jazmine Hughes One time HE HADN'T CHANGED ANYTHING.