there's something special about going to the movies

on the way to the hunger games midnight showing last night, i kept rambling on about not having a passion.  it tripped me up so badly in interviews when i was asked, 'what can you tell me about yourself?' because i'm pretty much what you see on my resume.  besides some awkward and/or inappropriate stories to share with prospective bosses (which for the record, i have no prospective bosses now as i'm loving my new job to a ridiculous degree), i've got nothing.

zilch. a goose egg. love. ... however you say it, i essentially don't have anything that i really enjoy in the way you are supposed to love something when asked what you do for fun.

and okay, i do love reality television. and i do love gossip magazines (and gossiping for that matter). and don't even get me started on how much i love painting my nails.  but none of those do anything for making me appear like a self-sufficient, mature adult.  which i am ... for the most part.

i semi-started my passion quest last summer when i took a photography class and bought one of those snazzy (aka expensive) cameras, but that fizzled out as i got busy.  i'm hoping time presents itself to enjoy that again, but it wasn't something that stuck.  i also started sewing and enjoyed that for quite a while, but i have yet to complete a skirt i started last july because i can't figure out the darned elastic.

but there's got to be something i enjoy.  there just has to be.  i've got to be able to say something other than sleep when people ask what i do for fun.  which if we're honest, sleep truly is my favorite thing, but since i'm not a hibernating bear that's not seen as a socially acceptable hobbie past those late night college days.

which brings me to my real point for this post (which we all know i never get to until the end anyways):  i really enjoy going to the movies.

not just watching movies (although i do love that), but going there.  i'm a sucker for the whole experience from the big screen, semi-sticky floors, and tearing of the tickets (and the inevitable 'WHERE IS MY STUB?!' panic when i have to go to the bathroom), to the delicious popcorn smells and crunching that waft down from the end of the aisle when someone brings back an [overpriced] enjoyable treat.

and seeing the hunger games premiere at midnight (in imax ... HOLY OVERWHELMING SCREEN SIZE) was quite the treat.  all of those movie loving elements were there, but add to that the costumes and squeals from the expectant and giddy crowd and you've got yourself an event.

i'm not saying that going to the movies will be the next thing on my passion quest list because after all, movies are expensive.  but let's just say that regardless of the price, there is truly something special about going to the movies.  it's more than just a visual story you subject yourself to for a couple of hours ... it's an experience.  and a beautiful one at that.

you're killing me, smalls!

today i woke up and was delighted to learn that the absolute best baseball movie EVER was on tv today.  that's right, folks.  the sandlot was on for my (and hopefully your) viewing pleasure.  if you missed it, well let's take this little walk down memory lane.

now that we're all caught up, let's play a little connect the dots game.  because you see, the sandlot was more than just a movie to me.  in fact, it's the reason i started loving baseball.  did it inspire me to strap on some cleats and start sweating out in the middle of the diamond?  heavens no.  don't be crazy.  but did it instill a love of watching this classic, timeless game?  absolutely.

and you know what else?  when the 6 year old version of myself first saw this movie, i fell for it.  i fell hard.  and not just for the movie.  i fell flat on my little face for benny.  and i honestly don't believe it was simply for his athletic prowess or his dark and mysterious good looks.  (yes, even as a little tot i was very well informed about what was hot).  

you know what made my barely-in-elementary-school self melt?  it was his kindness.  when smalls would rather run a ball (which he couldn't catch in the first place) back to the pitcher instead of throwing it, and when  all the other guys were shouting that smalls was an L-7 weenie, benny stood strong.  his heart was kind.  and when you move around every 3-4 years as a kid, you cling to kind people for all they're worth knowing that they'll always have your back.

so you know what?  the sandlot may have tipped off the younger version of myself that baseball players were drool worthy, but it showed me something more important about myself.  that i like kind people.  and i think that's the best kind of thing a 6 year old can learn.  

and of course, it doesn't hurt when those kind people are hot.  

[side note: did i know i liked kind people at the age of 6?  probably not.  but hindsight's 20/20.  did benny's hottness help me love him initially?  probably.  but his kindness kept me rooting for him even when hotty phillips came on screen.]