Eye Color, Popcorn, and My Friday Night

Saturday, July 18, 2015 No tags Permalink

I had some work to do last night so I booted up my laptop and turned on a movie. Sometimes I like to have on a favorite movie in the background as I work. I’m one of those people who can watch a movie I love over and over again. Last night it was me, my MacBook, a glass of wine, a huge bowl of popcorn, and Javier Bardem.  Okay, it was actually the movie Vicky Cristina Barcelona. I treated myself to a copy of it on BluRay because it’s no longer on streaming.  The first few times I watched it, I couldn’t figure out what Penelope Cruz meant when she said “her eyes aren’t one color”. I was thinking of heterochromia, where a person has two different colored eyes. But then I realized that blue or green eyes are often made up many different colors. My own eyes are green, but the outer ring of the iris is blue and the rest is flecked with gold.

It’s a bit like reading Pablo Neruda’s poetry when I was younger and not being able to understand why he described someone’s nipples as purple in color. Because of my extremely WASP-y childhood, I had no idea what a person of color looked like. I’ll explain that someday. But I digress.

I absolutely love popcorn. We had it all of the time when I was a kid. I’m not a fan of that microwave popcorn crap. I have an air popper, but my dad always make it on the stove top, or if we were really lucky, over a campfire in the backyard. Have you ever seen Amy Schumer describe how she eats popcorn?
Stage one: Denial. People do not want to admit to themselves that they’re about to obliterate any bag of junk food. Instead, they pretend they’ll “just have a little.” Then, she shows us the hesitant, one-kernel-at-a-time approach.
Stage two: Acceptance. Here you get “real real,” as Amy puts it. “I’ve split my lip trying to get one more kernel”.
She also recounts the struggles of the movie date: First, you have to pretend the thought of purchasing popcorn at a movie theater has never before crossed your mind. Next, you fake like a small popcorn is enough to satisfy anyone over the age of six. “That’s like taking one Advil,” Amy says. “Like, get out of here. I want a trough and I want to dunk my head in it.”
That last part is definitely not me. I’m the first one in line to buy popcorn and it’s certainly not a small! Last night I had popcorn all over my sofa, on the rug, and halfway to the kitchen all over the floor. Mostly because I was shoveling in with two hands. Dainty I am not.

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