ferry friends.

So I decided that Walt Whitman and I might have been buddies, if we lived at the same time (and we were neighbors or something). Of course, I don't actually know this. And I am basing this on one fact alone: he liked to ride ferries. All day long, in fact. He would give the ferry man a dime and stay on that boat until they forced him off.

I'm pretty sure one of my top moments in Frisco was riding the ferry to and from Alcatraz. The views! The breeze! The water! Glorious, I tell you.

Can you imagine? A ferry ride with Mr. Whitman? O captain, my captain...that would be a ride for the books.

my first attempt at a panoramic picture. (from the back side of a ferry, naturally)

on my mind.

Sometimes I can't think of anything to write about. So I'm just going to ramble. Here is what's in my head on this day (October 9, 2012):

Every single morning I am seriously distraught about what to wear. Jeffrey doesn't quite understand it, but my day is somehow always worse if I don't like what I'm wearing. Is this vain? I don't know. It isn't that I need to look like I just walked off the runway, but I like to be comfortable and feel good about myself. This translates to me (seriously) stressing about my outfit. 

In my Spanish class the other day we were talking about some grammatical concept that I still don't understand and I told my classmate (simply put) that Cary Grant is the best (note: I said this in Spanish). She responded with, "Cary Grant...who is she?"

She. 

Whaaat? No. He. Cary Grant is a he. How do you not know who Cary Grant is? 

Sadly, this isn't the first time this has happened. Most have never heard of James Dean or Gregory Peck either. Just so everyone knows, my children will be very well versed on all of the above (and then some...see: Audrey Hepburn, Gene Kelly). 

Speaking of Cary Grant...Have you ever seen Sleepless in Seattle? If you've read my blog at all, you know I'm a big fan. There is one scene where Rita Wilson is telling Tom Hanks (and whoever plays her husband in the movie) the story of An Affair to Remember. As she's telling it, she starts crying. Actually it is more like full on weeping. The whole scene is just pure greatness (And if you haven't seen it you need to watch it immediately). Because of this little scene one hard day (last year sometime, I think) my mom and I decided to watch An Affair to Remember. And I don't know if it is a girl thing (like they claim it to be in Sleepless in Seattle) or if we were just highly hormonal, but all of a sudden, towards the end of the movie: there we sat. Crying our eyes out. Real, actual tears streaming down our faces. We then looked at each other and started laughing out loud. Hard. We were actually laugh-crying. It was one of my favorite moments ever. 

Please watch this movie for me. Keep a box of tissues close by. And don't forget to enjoy Cary's charm--everything about him screams charm, does it not? 

dreams and things (or things I dream of).

being in a book club. a real one that isn't forgotten. and meets regularly.

growing big, dreamy, white flowers. I am not a gardener. but you can bet your bottom dollar I will have those fluffy white flowers some day.

throwing a tea party. my grandma's gazebo is just calling my name.

lighting a whole bunch of floating lanterns. (probably not in utah...seeing as how it is illegal at the moment...)

backpacking through europe when it isn't negative three hundred degrees. 

roadtripping across the USofA.

collecting postcards from all my travels.

having children. and being a really good mom. is that weird? I think about it a lot. sounds like the dreamiest (in a really hard, rewarding way) job in the world.

I've been thinking about all this stuff and lots of other stuff.
like how I'm pretty much pleased as punch to be who I am. and where I am.
which is just to say,
I love this country. I really, really do.

ps. I changed my blog url. don't ask me why, I just did. what once was mollyjanemoon.blogspot.com has become thenameismollyjane.blogspot.com. 

just a few things.

I am a master at hula-hooping. Seriously. I'm so good at it.

I am clumsy. In middle school my friends coined the term "Molly Moment" for any time someone would trip.

I am awkward. It is something I just can't help. I guess my automatic response is to make everything as awkward as possible.

I love anything and everything pretty. Cities. Buildings. Bridges. Skylines. Mountains. Bodies of water. Paintings. Music. Words. If it awes me, I'm so in.

I love having in-depth conversations about nothing. What's better than talking about nothing? Nothing is, that's what.

I love having friends that appreciate magic. Harry Potter magic, of course, but more so the first-time-seeing-a-firefly magic. The kind that takes your breath away. Or moves you to tears. That's the real stuff.

I really like knowing things. Things about anything. Learning is something I could do forever, and I think I just might. 

the mean reds.

Sometimes, a little Breakfast at Tiffany's is all a girl really needs.

"You know those days when you get the mean reds?"

"The mean reds, you mean like the blues?"

"No. The blues are because you're getting fat and maybe it's been raining too long, you're just sad that's all. The mean reds are horrible. Suddenly you're afraid and you don't know what you're afraid of. Do you ever get that feeling?"

"Sure."

"Well, when I get it the only thing that does any good is to jump in a cab and go to Tiffany's. Calms me down right away. The quietness and the proud look of it; nothing very bad could happen to you there. If I could find a real-life place that'd make me feel like Tiffany's, then - then I'd buy some furniture and give the cat a name!"

Good things from the past little while:
Being American, it makes me proud.
Playing with my best friend's family for her birthday, they are my second family.
Watching people be/fall in love.
Tears because my little brother is all kinds of awesome.
Hearing fireworks every single night.
Summer thunderstorms. 
Sleepovers and movies with Kelsey.
Skyping with those people I left in Texas. (and them not minding when I have a complete meltdown)
Catching up with friends who have been gone for two years.
Riding my bike, with my dad.
Making vague lists, because apparently its my thing.

don't rain on my parade.

Thoughts keeping me up:
I don't want to read my assignment for tomorrow.
Fireworks.
Funny Girl.
I'm so happy I know who Mr. Arnstein* is now.
Bike rides.
Adam Levine.
I really wish I could play the guitar.
The gym pass I pay for but never use.
John Mayer.
That expectations vs. reality scene in 500 Days of Summer.
One piece swimsuits.
And a song:



*I always thought it was Mr. Umstein.

I heart superheroes.

There is something about superhero movies that I just love.
They are always cheesey. The nature of the genre, maybe?
They always have attractive men. 
They always have some sort of awesome love story thrown in the mix (I can't help myself)
And they just make me happy.
X-men happens to be my absolute favorite.
I've never read any comics...
But I watched the X-men cartoon growing up (that and the Power Rangers were my faves).

When I was 16 my BFF Hayley took me to Florida for her birthday and we ran into some of these heroes of mine at the Islands of Adventure Universal Studios theme park.
Cyclops was right there. (it was pretty sweet)
We waited in line to get a picture with him and he looks at us and says (quite rudely),

"Do you even know who I am??"

I respond immediately, "Of course we do."
In my head I was like....uhh....he's an X-men (man?)...Cyclops....wait. That doesn't sound right??!
Naturally, I don't tell him who he is because #1 HE knows who he is and #2 he made me question if I really did know who he was and #3 I couldn't convince myself his name was Cyclops because he really does not look like a cyclops.

Jerk. Made me question my superhero knowledge skills. His job is to look awesome and take pictures with people. Nothing more. I was so bothered by this interaction. (Don't worry, I'm over it now....Oh and isn't this a GREAT pic? hahaha)

Anyway. Last night I saw X-Men: First Class (or whatever it is called) and I LOVED it. I thought it was perfect. James McAvoy and Michael Fassbender were awesome. I liked everything about it. I'm the worst at reviewing movies though so I'm going to stop there. All I ever have to say is that I love them or I don't. (more love than not).

I just really wanted to tell someone of my undying love for superheroes. X-men. Superman. Batman. Spiderman. (Apparently it is mostly the man ones that have my heart)

And I also wanted to show you another picture of Hayley and I in 2006...because I know you loved the first one so much.

Things I love about this:
1. It shows my mom's amazing photography skills (....)
2. We're fake sleeping? But also smiling...with our eyes closed...
3. That we actually documented this.
4. That bed was the fluffiest bed I've ever slept in.
5. Hayley. I love her.

I stumbledupon this:
A random article about words that don't exist in the English language.
Words like...

L’esprit de escalier: (French) The feeling you get after leaving a conversation, when you think of all the things you should have said. Translated it means “the spirit of the staircase.”

 

To be honest I have no idea how accurate it is. And it seems like more of a saying than a word. But...I get that feeling all the time. It takes effect immediately. It is kind of like the words that would have been perfect in the moment come rushing into your mind as soon as the moment is gone. And then. There I am. In the shower, the next day, playing the entire scene over and over and over again until I get it right. Not that it makes me feel better, in fact, it makes me feel worse. But in my head, I feel okay knowing I at least could have come up with something better.

yesterday was a good day.

I had lunch with my dad (because it was Tuesday, and on Tuesdays we have lunch)

I could actually feel the sunshine (and it felt good)

I had a text conversation with my little brother using strictly emoticons (not the first time this has happened)

I painted my nails red (thanks to my mom)

I talked about London for an hour straight to people who actually cared (and kept asking questions)

I saw Tangled (again)

I had a lovely conversation with the little girl sitting two seats down from me (about her 3D glasses)

I went to Jimmy John's with my favorite couple

and

I heard an incredible version of one of my favorite Beatles songs (thanks glee)

PS.

How cute is he?

Darn cute. That's how. He has the most kissable cheeks I've ever seen.