published Friday, August 3rd, 2012

Leber: Vampires, chicken, Gen X/Y and London 2012

When I have a lot to do, my mind tends to swim with all sorts of random, useless thoughts and epiphanies. I think it's my brain's way of rebelling against me for not letting it focus on one thing for long enough. As I'm currently Very Busy (in title case to make me feel Important), I have all sorts of little mental hummingbirds flying around inside my head. For your edification:

1. I don't want to hear any more about Kristen Stewart cheating on Robert Pattinson. The only good thing to come out of that whole debacle -- and by "that whole debacle," I mean everything that has occurred since author Stephenie Meyer said "Hey, you know what the world needs? A good vampire/human teen romance" -- is the coining of the term "trampire" to describe Stewart. Trampire is a much better portmanteau than "jeggings," though it cannot beat "wholphin." Yes, a whale plus a dolphin.

2. Am I a bad American for not having watched the Olympics thus far? I'm not boycotting, just being kind of forgetful. Honestly, I haven't been terribly invested since I was denied a spot on the women's gymnastics team in 1992. My coach used to say "no pain, no Spain." I remember a good bit of pain, and where was my bid to Barcelona? I blame Kerri Strug.

3. Speaking of boycotting, I'm not touching politics with two 10-foot poles, but is anyone else nostalgic for the days when eating fast food was about nothing more than consuming something fried and delicious? Now, it seems, you are making a statement with everything you say or do. It's a little tiresome. For the record, my dislike of white chocolate is not an admission of Caucasian guilt, my preference of soy milk over regular milk does not mean I believe the bean is superior to the cow, and the fact that I own more male than female Care Bears should not be seen as an indication of my being anti-feminist. Of course, all of these things may be true, but it has no bearing to the general population, so I keep it to myself.

4. It has recently been made clear to me that I missed a golden opportunity in the '80s to run away to Hollywood and become a child star doppelganger. I recently posted a photo on my Facebook page of the TV character Punky Brewster (played by actress Soleil Moon Frye, who now looks like a cross between Winnie Cooper and a Playboy model). I've been told since I was a child that the resemblance between myself and Punky (yes, Punky, not Ms. Frye) is strong, but I wasn't sure how strong until my mother posted a comment about how cute the photo was, and was that the jacket my cousin had brought back from Bali? Amused by her dry wit, and also slightly fearful, I called her.

"What you said on Facebook," I began. "That was a joke, right?"

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"About the photo. You were kidding, right?"

"No. I think Carl gave you that jacket."

(Oh my goodness, wait, does she ...?)

"Um, Mom, that's not me."


"It's a picture of Punky Brewster, Mom. It's not me."

"Are you serious?"

Apparently, both she and my father had thought it was an old picture of me. Month made.

5. And speaking of the '80s, I achieved something great last week: I finally figured out how to truly make the distinction between Generation X and Generation Y, or the Millennials. Here it is: If you (age appropriately) lusted after Alyssa Milano on "Who's the Boss," you are Gen X. If you lusted after Alyssa Milano on "Charmed," you are Gen Y. I make no gender distinctions here because, come on, it's Alyssa Milano.

Even people who eat at Chick-fil-A have to agree with me there.

about Holly Leber ...

Holly Leber is a reporter and columnist for the Life section. She has worked at the Times Free Press since March 2008. Holly covers “everything but the kitchen sink" when it comes to features: the arts, young adults, classical music, art, fitness, home, gardening and food. She writes the popular and sometimes-controversial column Love and Other Indoor Sports. Holly calls both New York City and Saratoga Springs, NY home. She earned a bachelor of arts ...

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