Tag Archives: disney

The worst parts of my childhood.

21 Aug
i hate soccer

Needless to say, we all quit soccer.

When I got in trouble for mooning someone at a rest stop. Picture this. You’re seven. You’re sitting in a station wagon, at a rest stop, in the middle of June with your two older sisters and one older brother who’s probably sexually active at this point, and thus far too old to be going on seventeen-hour road trips to Disney World.

Our parents just went into the rest stop probably to buy a map, or maybe my Dad was smoking one of his Merit’s, who knows. My Mom was probably perusing the casino brochures outside of McDonald’s. Anyway, they were in there for like 5 whole minutes. That’s a really long time to leave four kids alone in a station wagon in the middle of summer, especially since we’d all finished listening to every NKOTB tape on our Walkman’s.

So my brother dared me to moon the guy next to us. I pulled down my elastic-waist shorts and planted my hauntingly white 7 year-old ass, complete with a birthmark, against the window for a good 2 seconds. I remember exactly what the guy looked like, he had a curly mullet and a wife; they were driving a sensible car, probably a Volvo. It was AWESOME!

But the bastard waited for my parents to get back to the car, and he told on me. And I got in trouble. Shame. Seriously, what would you have done in that situation? It was a dare. I had a moral obligation to do it, and plus, it was fun. I don’t regret it, only that I got caught. Let it be known — if a child ever moons you at a rest stop, PLEASE don’t tell on him. Just let him/her enjoy that blissful 2 seconds of uninhibited taunting.

slush puppieThe last 1/4 of the Slush Puppie. Being the youngest, cutest of my three older sisters and brother, I may or may not have been the most convincing of the group to get all of us something that we collectively wanted real bad. And being a bunch of sweaty kids in a giant, old station wagon  in the summertime, stopping at a gas station meant one thing and one thing only: Slush Puppies.

One way or another, we scored them. We’d suck them down, ignoring the splitting sensation erupting behind our eye sockets, savoring the smooth, round ice pellets swimming in blissful, sweet, blue chemical liquid, letting it slide down our throats into our high fructose corn syrup -heaving bellies. We’d slurp and — so abruptly, without warning — nothing. Cruel, really. We’d tear the plastic top off the cup and peer inside. ALL ICE. NO MORE BLUE. WTF, Slush Puppie? You’ve been around like 47 years, and you still haven’t figured out a way to make the blue shit last through the end of the cup.

krissy and me

Krissy (left) eventually forgave me for hitting her with a bat. Judging by my face I’m still a little guilty.

When I hit my best friend with a bat and got in trouble for it. I grew up as a self-proclaimed, and universally described, “tomboy.” I had a blond bowl-cut and sometimes pretended to be a boy named “Tommy” – more on that later. Years later, my mom told me she raised me as a tomboy because it was cheaper than buying lots of pretty clothes.

When I was about 6 years old, I was playing in the street with my two best friends, Krissy Grossimon and Michael Salvaggio. We were way into T-ball at that time. So I was carrying around one of those foam red bats with my last name written in angry magic marker on it in huge letters, “McCORMICK.” I was also “scooting” around on a skateboard, because I was 6 and I didn’t care if people thought I looked like an idiot.

We were in the middle of the street, in an intersection, which probably wasn’t very safe. Anyway, Krissy said something I didn’t like, and I nailed her with the bat. It wasn’t really that hard, I don’t think, and let me remind you that the bat was covered in foam. Needless to say, I hit a 6 year old with a bat and I thought it was funny. She cried. And told on me, and I got in trouble with my Mom. And realized you shouldn’t hit your best friends with bats, because it’s not funny. Or, it’s not funny to the other person.

When my grandmother convinced my parents that “Chores” were a good idea. My grandmother, Nan, babysat us one snowy weekend when I was 7. (Apparently all the worst parts of my childhood happened around age 7… I’ll bring that up to my therapist later.) All of us kids were playing outside in the snow, and my brother and sisters decided to climb on top of our pop-up camper. Come on, how is that NOT fun? I remember standing there and thinking it was bad but not really caring too much about it.

Later that night, my parents came home and  my Dad found out there was a dent in the roof, due to us kids climbing on it. He was furious. I got in trouble because “You didn’t say anything, so you’re in trouble too” or something to that effect. Apologies that my sense of judgment wasn’t fully formed at the age of 7, Dad. Geez.

nan

What are those, Nan, Christmas cookies laced with poison? Just kidding, love you!

That night, we ate dinner with my grandmother at our big, oval dinner table.

“These kids are getting away with MURDAH,” said Nan. That changed everything.

I’ll never forget the way she said that, because I remember feeling extremely guilty for whatever my 7 year-old self had done that could be equated with slitting someone’s throat and throwing them down a well. I also remember these exact words because my family didn’t really have a heavy Boston accent like she did — well we did, but I think most of us grew out of it once we realized that it’s generally unattractive.

Nan left that night, and the next week my Mom posted a schedule of weekly chores on the wall, which would forever be resented. For years, YEARS I tell you, we would all stay inside after dinner sweeping floors, scrubbing chairs, vacuuming the rug under the dinner table, doing SLAVE labor while our friends would play Four Square outside without us. Even when my friends came over, they’d have to wait in the living room and watch TV while I toiled away. It was torture, I tell you. All because of a visit from my grandmother.

So there you have it, the four worst parts of my childhood.

mccormick family

My Mom requested that I not upload this family picture because of her 80s perm. Challenge accepted.

10 Things No One Gave a Shit About in 2010

28 Dec

What with the BP disaster, Chilean miners, Wikileaks, the Craigslist Killer Lifetime Movie and everything else that was important in 2010 getting a second wind of exposure, I’ve decided to put out my own list of Top 10 in 2010. It’s time to shine a light on those things that had no influence over anyone in 2010.

10. Poor hamburger phone connectivity

hamburger phone

I’m tired of all these wireless providers getting all the attention. I’m having a serious hamburger phone connectivity issue here! I can’t make outgoing calls, I can’t get incoming calls, and anytime I hear dialtone it sounds like an orca whale and a fire alarm are mating on the other end of the line. I do not appreciate prank calls, Hamburger Phone Network! If you had a Twitter account, I would not hesitate to Direct Message the shit out of your interns!

9. Rhett Akers’ basement videos

Rhett Akers is on the fast track to Internet Stardom with his Youtube videos, filmed in what appears to be the basement apartment of his parents’ house. And there’s more where that came from, ladies — follow @RhettAkers on Twitter for some more guitar/shirtless action! Red hot!

*If you’re insinuating that I found Rhett Candy by chance today, you are correct

8. Maatia Toafa is elected Prime Minister of Tuvalu

I know what you’re thinking. Tuvalu? Why didn’t this make headlines?!! Well, it’s likely that the news was slightly overshadowed by the record-setting billion-dollar campaign ad expenditures on the other side of the world.

7. Knitting with Dog Hair trend takes off

knitting with dog hair
Meredith Biggelsworth and son

Largely spurred by the 1997 publication of Knitting with Dog Hair: Better a Sweater from a Dog You Know Than from a Sheep You’ll Never Meet, the knitting with dog hair trend reached a pivotal point in 2010, with one final influx of midwestern stay-at-home-moms to the Internet. It was a historical day for the cult phenomenon when on November 23, 2010, 7 total pictures were uploaded to Twitter since 1997.* Says Anne Montgomery, author of KWDH,

“Buster passed on January 12, 1994. It was a painful time for me, as it was right after the holidays and I was also going through a separation period from my now ex-husband. I looked around the house and the solution was right there in front of me. I gathered up Buster’s fur, picked up my knitting needles, and began working away. Now I can have Buster close to my heart whenever I need him.”

Montgomery is currently working on a guide to making jewelry out of hamster feces.

*Source: Twitter Trends

6. How many times I wore these socks

socks

To estimate the number of times I wore these socks in 2010, I will multiply their level of softness by the approximate coldness of my apartment floor, divided by the number of pairs of other socks that I own, minus two days (days I have owned these equally warm slippers, thanks Mom), equals 17.6. I think it’s safe to say that they’ve paid for themselves!

5. It became okay to abort a twin

zach and codyWhat would the world be like if selective reduction had been around for the first trimester of Zach and Cody?* I do not care to imagine such a dark place… I remember exactly where I was when I read the editorial about selective reduction in the back of Elle Magazine. I don’t even know why I began reading the story, I tend to ignore all text in that magazine because it’s usually nonsense written by girls who have cotton balls for brains. Anyway. It was a story about a woman that found out she was pregnant with twins, and was considering the option of aborting one of them. Spoiler alert: she goes for it. Now, I’m fairly open-minded and have a range of liberal views (if you get my gist), but I was shocked, disgusted, and frankly, scared when I reached the end of the story. Regardless of what a parent may say, one way or another, the kid is going to grow up and find out that they should have had a brother or sister. Cue emotional destruction, stage one. What’s weird is that selective reduction is nothing new, the procedure was developed in the 1980s, but it’s becoming more popular. I give it 10 years to further unfold into a Brave New World dystopian scenario.

*It was around, just not popular yet.

4. Spanky resurfaces

spankyRemember the 90s Little Rascals movie, and that kid Spanky who was soooo cute? … That is all.

3. I slept with a bunny

bunny

2. MOBA acquires its newest piece

bad art

Hollywood Lips is about one woman’s inner battle between light and dark, partially owed to the fact that she resembles a palm tree and has weird, angry eyes. Kids can be cruel.

1. This roll of tape ran out

tape

The Science of Cuteness

10 May cringe

I’ve been doing a lot of serious thinking lately about why babies are cute. It all started with this poor excuse for a stock image that I found randomly the other day.

cringe

Yea. I don’t know what happened here. I think maybe the cute baby had a cold so they had to use the unphotogenic stand-in baby or something. Or maybe the photographer was his Dad or something, you know, in that ‘I really don’t understand how Tori Spelling is an actress oh wait her Dad is famous’ kinda way. And this photo ignited my synapses into an explosion of activity, leading to the creation of a manifesto of sorts.

The Science of Cuteness: Baby Edition, Copyright May 2010, Samantha McCormick. All Rights Reserved.

Puppies, kittens, blind little inchworms patting their heads around on your skin to find who knows what. Fuckin cute, right? But when it comes to babies, it’s not so simple. Take that baby in Trainspotting. Drug-induced hallucination of a swivel-headed dead baby crawling on the ceiling aside, that baby was just plain ugly. Personally, I think it would have been more effective in the creepy department if it was a cute baby such as either Zach or Cody pre- The Suite Life. Anyway. There is a science behind the reason we find certain babies cute, and certain babies, shall we say,’Walmart catalog material.’ Behold, the laws of cuteness.

ONE. Everything is disproportionately small on a baby. (I totally just made you think of his weewee.) Take his little feet, for example. Small enough to fit in that shiny little Christening shoe, or that miniature white Nike, if your child is of the ghetto nature. Then consider his head. HUGE. If you take the size of his little foot and compare it to the size of his head, that’s like a ratio of 1 to 10. Now consider the size of YOUR foot, in relation to YOUR head. Unless you’re kind of ugly or have awkwardly small feet, that’s probably a ratio of 1 to 4. So disproportionately small equals cute (in regards to a baby, nothing else..) Because if babies didn’t have disproportionately small features, they’d be shrunken versions of adults, like this:

Which is definitely NOT CUTE.

TWO. Button noses. At the baby stage, I guess genetics aren’t even factored into the equation yet because I’ve never seen a baby with a huge nose. Not once. Barbra Streisand, Tori Spelling, and Ashlee Simpson were all cute babies, and that’s a fact.

THREE. Baby babble. Cute little nonsense sounds strung together with drool and that little spit bubble that she’ll later amuse herself with during Times Tables drills. Imagine for a moment that babies could speak perfect English. Childbirth is over, the nurse hands you your little bundle of joy, and — “Hey Mom.” Yes, for some reason it’s easy to wrap our minds around the fact that five minutes ago that little thing in blankets was chillin inside a uterus full of amniotic fluid, because it’s like he really doesn’t know any better since his brain is basically mush, evident by the fact that he can’t talk yet. So when you imagine a baby carrying on a full adult conversation, things get a little tricky.

FOUR. The downy little hairs on his head that you just can’t resist petting. Only acceptable on a baby’s head, and only acceptable to pet when on a baby’s head. Because that would be weird if you went around trying to pet girls’ heads, I mean you’d probably exist somewhere as a registered sex offender and would one day turn into a serial killer which the Boston Herald would  ‘cleverly’ refer to you as “The Head Petter,” or something else completely unoriginal. Mom’s just gotta make sure the ‘do doesn’t get too out of control (see Photo 1).

FIVE. Uncontrollable limbs. Babies are automatically forgiven for kicking and fist-pumping at us when we’re changing their diaper because they’re just having a ball trying to figure out what the hell to do with themselves. Like a drunk girl putting on lip gloss, it’s kind of funny to watch a baby reach for something that they want. Reach, miss. Reach, miss. Roll a bit. Get stuck. Haha.

SIX. Poor etiquette. Watching a baby eat is fun.

***

There’s more where that came from. Stay tuned for the next installment of The Science of Cuteness: Baby Edition. Read my freshly-posted The Science of Cuteness: Part Two. Because this blog post is getting frighteningly long and it’s an hour and a half past my bedtime. Still to come: The Science of Ugly: Celebrity Edition.

TV Moments that Changed My Life

9 Nov

When I was 7, TV was my crystal ball. I really trusted it to tell me what life would be like when I was a teenager. TV was completely wrong, of course, because I never dated a Zach Morris in high school and I never developed a rack of epic proportions that made my older sister jealous. Which brings me unveil to you the most pivotal moments in television during the nineties. The TV moments that changed my life.

laurenWhen Corey Cheated on Topanga

Remember the ski lodge? Remember that whore named Lauren who leeched off all the bum-legged tourist skiers who innocently spent the day off the slopes at the fireplace? Yea. Lauren, you are the root of all future problems between the most perfect TV couple of all time. Corey and Topanga were untouchable until YOU ruined everything with your ill-hidden perfumed pink letter. I grew up watching Boy Meets World and thinking that one day I would fall in love and it would be as perfect as what Corey had with Topanga. Then your little episode debut of DOOM came along. After 14 minutes I quickly realized that Corey Matthews was just another cheating hormone-induced cluster of XY chromosomes. Your episode taught me that love is FRAUD and the perfect love doesn’t exist.

jackWhen Jack Came Out on Dawson’s Creek

In the nineties, TV decided to shed light on a fairly taboo issue by making Capeside’s  ultimate guy’s guy, Jack McPhee, gay. I’ll be honest, the extent of what I knew about being gay was what I heard the boys yelling at each other during recess at school. Jack coming out was my first introduction to a (fictional) gay person. And hey it even allowed critics to casually ignore the absence of black people and other issues not stereotypically white in nature.

 

 

 

alboobsWhen Al Got Boobs on Step by Step

This episode led me to believe that one day in high school I would unexpectedly wake up with huge jugs, which I would at first hate, then in 30 minutes with the aid of my loving stepmother would grow to love. My sister would be jealous of my bodacious body. My brother would creepily ogle me. Life would be good. This turned out to be a false prediction.

 

 

When Becca and Tucker FINALLY Kissed

Built entirely around the sexual tension between two 14 year-olds, Disney’s Flash Forward just had to wait until the very last episode to get these two to kiss. Classic story of the goofy, funny “friend” guy who gets the girl, Tucker’s character is the type of guy I developed a soft spot for. I’m glad that I’m not followed around by melancholy music all the time, though.

 

Don’t get me wrong, I love Saved by the Bell, Full House, Growing Pains, and all those other unmentioned 90s TV shows — but none of those really changed my life.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Art of People-Watching

8 Aug

Half the fun in people-watching is that you get to make fun of other people. The other half is having a good laugh at them.

Psst, were Asian

"Psst, we're Asian"

Sometimes people don’t even need to be made fun of — they look ridiculous enough to provide an endless supply of natural laughter. These moments are magical and should be cherished with a best friend or grandmother. (I remember being little and sitting outside the Red Lobster eating french fries and vinegar with my grandmother, first experiencing the art of “People-Watching”; subtitled Talking Mad Shit About Strangers. Magical.

After a long day of shopping or a night spent battling The Spins, the easiest way to enjoy the benefits of People-Watching is to go for visuals. Talking Mad Shit about someone’s fanny pack is simpler than any other People-Watching tactic, such as Eavesdropping, doing The Foreign Film (watching two people from afar and dubbing in conversation), or watching out from behind a mirrored window (nose-pickers, pimple-poppers, women checking out their own asses). The following Fashion Faux Pas’s’ (?) are a few of my favorites to point out to a friend.

"Look at this great sweatshirt I bought on Ebay. I'm so unique!"

"Look at this great sweatshirt I bought on Ebay. I'm so unique!"

Disney sweatshirts in cities. I don’t care if it’s a tad chilly out and you forgot to pack your North Face fleece that you got on sale at Bob’s — Disney sweatshirts are never okay. If a bird shit on all your other clothes and there are no more Cheers Boston hoodies left in the entire city, at least consider carrying a gimp keychain and strapping a portable CD player to your hip to fool passersby into thinking that you’re attending a 90s Party.

Louis Vuitton Handbags. You’re wearing a tattoo-print baby tee and jewel-encrusted jeans. That giant LV-print handbag MUST be real.

Uggs. Self-explanatory.

Aasics are cool again.

"Aasics are cool again."

Sneakers with suits. For some reason all women who ride public transportation met by candlelight in a hidden chamber and agreed that it is socially acceptable to take off their heels and ride the train home in massive white Keds. The humor gradient lightens a tad when the athletic footwear is more stylish or less boat-like, however the sneaker-suit combo is still fug. Why not substitute heels for a pair of ballet flats? Why not go barefoot? Why god, why?

White sunglasses. You look like a tool.

Tight Shirts. You didn’t just shop in the boy’s section of abercrombie to save money. Rather, you want us girls to see your remotely toned physique. Put on some white sunglasses while you’re at it to complete the look.

That’s all I can think of for now. Feel free to comment with some of your own favorites via WordPress or Facebook. Cheers to Saturday!

Hannah Mantana: The Major Motion Picture

2 May

Here’s the full 5-minute comedy my friends and I made for Campus Moviefest. We won the AT&T mobile phone award (for using their phone in the movie in a creative way) and they’re showing our movie this weekend at an awards show in NYC.

Hannah Mantana: THE MOVIE

My plans for this weekend? Filming a local-style commercial at Walmart w/ my girls Megan and Katie. (“Welcome ta Walmaht, here we have ill-fitting clothes and Rubbermaid containers” etc).

Yours forever,
Samantha

Shootin’ a Movie

27 Mar

You may have noticed a lack of me writing lately. I’ve been busy getting C’s in biology, interviewing for a fictional job, and shooting a movie with my friends for Campus Moviefest at my college. Here are some pictures; I’ll throw the movie on Youtube by Monday. I won’t tell you what it’s about yet so you might have to piece it together from the pictures…

picture-13

picture-7

picture-15

picture-21

picture-1

Basically, they lent us an HD video camera, a MacBook Pro w/ iMovie and FinalCut (which is a mystery to me and I don’t intend to solve it), two new Samsung phones (which I’ve been using to buy ringtones, call people, and probably try to call my cousin in England), and a tripod. AND we can win prizes. They spoiled us. The movie can only be five minutes and we only get 6 days to complete it. Including editing. PHEW.

With all this excitement, I’ve pretty much blown off all my schoolwork, which is only Calculus problems – let’s face it, I go to a state school. It is what it is. :)

So I’ll post the full movie on Youtube by Sunday. Oh, it’s a comedy. Obviously.

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