Sep 26, 2008 11:03
Clueless was the very first movie I saw without my parents. One of the scenes I remember best was an incidental moment in a ladies' bathroom when someone's cell phone starts ringing and everyone rummages through their purses. At the time (1995!) this was funny because only in Beverly Hills could enough people afford to have a cell phone that it would be a problem. Now of course it happens all the time, sending us all in search of ever-more-unique ringtones.
There's a similar only-in-LA moment later when the girl Cher is grooming for popularity wants to burn the mementos of her ex-boyfriend, and Cher turns on her fireplace by remote control. Well, call me Valley Girl. Yesterday Beth and I were contemplating lighting a fire to fend off the newly chilly weather. The trouble is, we don't really know how. We only have experience with propane fireplaces and ours is the old-fashioned kind where you actually have to put some wood in there and set it on fire. Do we need to buy fireplace accessories? Is kindling going to be involved? What does the lever-thing at the top do? What do you do with the ashes when you're done?
Mad props to that distant ancestor who first discovered fire. It's trickier than you might think. Next week maybe we'll tackle the wheel.
movies,
apartment,
stupidity