Pirates of the Many Plots

I saw the new Pirates of the Caribbean this week. It was the first of the double feature at the drive-in, so I figured what the hey? I vaguely remember seeing the first one and not hating it. I skipped the second, but no matter. These types of sequel franchises are always made to be self-contained, right?

We missed the beginning of the movie and were mostly to completely lost for the next two hours. I have no idea how much we missed, but figured it must have been a lot, either in terms of quantity or quality. By the end of the movie, James and I were still left saying, what the hey?

Apparently I'm not alone in my analysis. And it seems that seeing the whole movie may not have been much of a help. Here's someone who says it better than I could, because he's a ninja.

Bonus First!

Because you've all been so patient waiting for the stories of my days as a Greek-letter wearing hottie and my sweet dance moves in fifth grade, here's a little bonus first story.

Bonus First: My first bra.

By the time I was in fifth grade, someone (my mom? me?) decided that I should get my first bra. I have no idea why this is so. Because I distinctly remember Heidi Nichols making fun of me in sixth grade (a full year later) about barely having a "fingerful," let alone a "handful." Then again, people also made fun of my nose in middle school, and I seem to have grown into that!

So. Mom and I are at the mall for a bra. I'm sure we shopped at JCPenney or Sears. I remember nothing about the whole experience except what my dad said when he picked us up. I guess he wanted to show that he had some relevance to the world of his 12-year-old daughter. Instead, he made me want to die of embarrassment.

Dad smiled encouragingly at me and said lightly, "Feels just like wearing a small undershirt, doesn't it?"

The question in my mind now, 19 years later, is: How would he know?

I swear to you: My father is not a creepy guy. He's just a guy. And a McGuiggan. Which means that weirdly inappropriate things come out of his mouth with the best and most innocent of intentions. I may not be a guy, but I'm most definitely a McGuiggan. And if I ever have kids I'm sure I will horrify them with my words. I'm sure I've horrified friends and family my own age. I once said the following to a girl in college, not realizing that it might sound insulting: "Did you say something as stupid as I think you just said?" The weird part is that she didn't even seem to get mad.

But back to the bra. If only my dad had had this resource to consult when I was young: http://www.myfirstbra.us/. (Apparently http://www.myfirstbra.net/ was already taken.) Then he would have known that, "For a young girl, a bra is more than an article of clothing, more than a necessity; her bra is her symbol of maturity and growth, an item of fantasy." Yes, an item of fantasy. Exactly. It's not a small undershirt, it's an item of fantasy! In comparison, I'd say that my dad was considerably less creepy than that website.

Go ahead -- Tell me about your first little undershirt in the comments!

Or if you're desperate for more of my firsts, go read the other four.

Reader Poll Results Are In!

Thanks to everyone who voted to choose the "Final First." It's a tie! My first night as a sorority girl and my first talent show received an equal number of votes, thanks to one person who split her vote. (You know who you are, Melissa.) If a person voted multiple times for one topic, I only counted it as one vote. (You know who you are, Hannah.)

And my sincere apologies to Jess, who will have to live through the sorority saga once more. But at least the topic that you voted for is also a winner!

Stay tuned for the gripping details...

Sunday Scribblings: Simple

flowering chives (watercolor)

This week's prompt at Sunday Scribblings is "simple." I've been dabbling in watercolor for the past two weeks, and my results are rather simplistic. But I like a few of them for their lovely simplicity. This is one that I did today. May you have a lovely holiday (if you're in the U.S.) full of simple pleasures. And even if you're not celebrating a long weekend, I hope you have a lovely day nonetheless.

Final First: Readers' Choice

Okay, it's time for the *~*~*First Official Reader Poll*~*~* here at The Stories I Tell.

I have one more "first" left in the Five Firsts series. So, you handful of faithful followers. What story do you want to hear?

Choose from the list below or add your write-in vote in the comments section. I'll reveal the gory or geeky or girly details based on your votes.

1. My first night as a sorority girl. (Gasp! Yes it's true. I wore the Greek letters, people.)

2. My first day of first grade. (The story involves Cap'n Crunch cereal, a rhyming poem, and a brown crayon.)

3. My first training bra. (Featuring mortifying comments by my dad.)

4. My first job. (Complete with a motley crew of employees that include an ex-con, a woman who regularly forgot to eat, and the owner, whom we called "Flipper," for good reason, mind you.)

5. My first talent show. (Madonna, a blue sparkly glove, and fifth grade band geeks. Fun times!)

Vote now! Lines open at the end of the show and stay open until midnight. Who will be the next American Idol? (...wait, I don't even watch that show. Talk about the infiltration of pop culture!)

Seriously, I'll leave voting open until Friday (5/25/07) or until I have 20 votes (from 20 different people -- and no aliases!), whichever comes first.

Edited to add: I'm leaving voting open until midnight tonight (Friday). That means you have six hours to cast your vote. Hurry!