Almost everyone has some sort of Christmas/holiday television tradition. Whether it's football, the Frosty cartoon, or forcing the younger set to watch an old black-and-white movie, we all enjoy a bit of holiday entertainment. Now, I'm the first to admit my mistletoe tastes are less serious than most, shall we say. I love Bing Crosby, but the only way I'm watching White Christmas is at gunpoint. Like most movies, the way I decide if something is a classic is simple: If it came on at 10:30 at night, would I stay up and watch it? So without further ado, these currently are my 10 favorite holiday comedies. I limited the list to comedies, although I'm not sure it would be much different if I opened the contenders up to all holiday films.
So, Cranky is 16. Like most 16-year-old girls, she is focused on a few priorities: clothes, boys, texts, One Direction and homework—if the last item is not on that list, please don't shatter my belief system. So it comes as no surprise that when a diet miracle appears on social media, Cranky would be quick to jump on it.
It's no big secret that the news media want to scare people. Is something you eat every day killing you? Does a madman want your children? What pills did a student find in her teacher's desk? The answers, of course, are: no, no and vitamins. The weather is no exception. If anything, the weather coverage sets the bar for fear tactics. You want a good scare? Check the weather.
November is always an interesting month, cinematically speaking. The serious Oscar contenders rear their heads, the holiday family films are released, and a stray R-rated comedy or two makes an appearance for variety's sake. This November is no exception.
Halloween is upon us. There's a chill in the air, wet leaves in the grass and an inexplicable credit-card receipt from something known only as the 'Halloween Super Store' on the table. For those of you not familiar, the Halloween Super Store is what I imagine as the modern-day equivalent of the gypsy caravan: It pops up overnight in a previously abandoned retail space, stays open for one month selling all things spooky, and then—more quickly than it appeared—it's gone. The HSS is not a new concept. The receipt, however, strikes me as odd, odd because it means the kids have already gone to the Halloween store—and they have gone without me.
Halloween is over. The costumes and gear have been returned to the storage closet. The pumpkin is in the garbage. Or, if you live in my house, the jack-o-lantern is slowly imploding on the front stoop—the face falling inward and sliding down like that Nazi in Raiders of the Lost Ark. But I digress. Halloween is over, yet one thing remains; one wonderful, awful, terrific agonizing thing: candy.
So, Halloween is next week. Depending on your disposition, you are either stocking up on Fun-Sized Snickers or making sure you can override the timer on your exterior lights. Regardless of your penchant for spooky—or lack thereof--the season often calls for a costume. I have always prided myself on my ability to turn the most everyday, comfortable outfit into a costume. For three years, I was Alex from Flashdance (off-the-shoulder sweatshirt, leggings—piece of cake). I also revisited Mia Wallace from Pulp Fiction a couple of times (all-black with Cleopatra wig—I'd even do the dance).
So I've been doing some substitute-teaching of late—just a class here and there. I get to brush up on some subjects in which I used to be proficient, back when the wheels were well-oiled. It's a win-win, really—for me. The students (I think) enjoy their time with their new sub. I haven't been pelted with spit wads or been fooled into spending the entire class discussing The League on FX (OK, once, it happened once). So far, I'm teaching, they're learning. All is as it should be. And that's when the teacher I am helping out informs me of one tiny detail: On Tuesday, you'll be taking my beginning Greek class.
----- GET CONNECTED WITH LN -----
Enter your email address below to signup for our mailing list.