When I was really coming into myself, you know, out of the awkward teen years and well into the college years, beyond the frosh independence buzz when you delight in filling your fridge with twinkies because you can. Well, when you're deciding for sure what your values are going to be and you know, you're confident "This is the person I am and I'm going to grow old gracefully".
So it was at that time in my life, I was still single, I started writing a journal to my "future husband". I marveled at my roommate who had cable TV in her bedroom, was obsessed with Mathew McConaughey, and watched TLC programming while writing her never-ending English papers.
I thought: TV sucks.
So into the journal I wrote: Dear Future Husband, If we never have a TV, we'll be more active and have fun. I don't ever want to have a TV. Gordon B. said that people waste a lot of time watching TV, so we are never having one in our home, okay? Love from, Your Future Wife
So when I met The Mister of the House, we dated, admired, kissed and eventually I said Here! and handed him my secret journal. Don't worry, I had a ring on my finger by then. But I wanted to make sure my bases were covered, no surprises when I said "Take back that 52-inch Plasma TV right now!".
Now for those of you who don't know, The Mister of the House is an avid movie lover. In fact, it's genetically ingrained into the Olsen DNA. Sunday dinner at the in-laws will go something like this:
Olsen Sister-in-law: Could you please pass the salad?
Brother Olsen: Yes
Olsen Sister-in-Law: [robot voice] In the future, we do not say yes. Instead, we say "Affirmative".
Pipsqeak Olsen: [robot voice] Yes, "Affirmative".
(name the source of that quote by the way and you become honorary member of the Olsen Clan)
Now don't get me wrong, my sister and I grew up watching Saved By the Bell Marathons, my own mother recorded Seinfeld, and High School was always brighter the morning after The Simpsons viewed prime-time. But in college I went through a multimedia drought and I absolutely thrived! So it was a guilty pleasure that I tried to kill, but that never fully died. It was then resurrected when I became Mrs. Olsen.
By my 5-year anniversary, my home swelled with a collection of over a thousand movies, albeit they were runoff from our first business.....but that's a story for another day.
But before you accuse The Mister of the House for backing out of our clearly defined entertainment standards, I would add, to his credit, that he didn't get cable TV until after anniversary number 8. Let's just say that having personally spawned 3 genetically enhanced movie-lovers, as well as being absorbed into the multimedia-absorbed DNA of the Olsen Clan, that I would practically be going against Nature Herself if I denied my family all of their digital delights.
Besides, part of growing old gracefully is willing to accept surprises.
And so, it is with great pleasure, that Mrs. Olsen presents a film illustrating the DNA she is up against, errr, I mean, absorbed into. A film starring the sister of The Mister, her husband, and filmed by the brother of The Mister. It's short. It's actually a little scary. So grab your softest blanket for comfort and enjoy this little ditty. It's called "Glad We Came?".
Now you enjoy, I've got to run and catch What Not To Wear on my 52-inch plasma.
NOTE from Mrs. Olsen: I wish that I had been able to save the comments from friends who watched this expecting it to be funny, but were seriously freaked out (Paula, Wendy...you know what I'm talking about). This illustrates my point perfectly. There was no bad picture quality, sound, or lame acting that distracted you from the point of the film: to be afraid....be very afraid. There was no pointing of the finger laughing at the lame-o home job. Pure Olsen DNA at work.
The Last Post
10 years ago
9 comments:
Hey Mrs. Olsen...I LOVE the blog. And you really hit the Olsen DNA on the head.
Flight of the Conchords...duh. Doesn't everyone know that, or do I owe that to the movie-DNA running through my veins?
Love the blog, Mrs. Olsen. Way to go.
Your blog is the blog-bomb. Yes, that was pushin' it, but that's what i do -- so watch it!
Very fancy and pretty.
This is AWESOME! Best. Movie. Ever.
It's funny cause it's true.
Mister Olsen...you so obviously solicited on my behalf. You're cute and busted.
I love your blog! I really like your
writing style and hearing about your
journal to the Mister of your future.
The chicken coop is cute but not nearly as cute as your offspring. I
look forward to the next chapters of
this most entertaining site. Just reading about you makes me think we
would be great friends. I don't have
a chicken coop but my grandchildren
are just as cute as your children!
Two things. First, I actually didn't get that movie quote...what does that mean for me as an Olsen? (besides the sure-to-come mockery from my siblings). So, I need to brush up on Flight stuff, so what? Secondly, Amber, you have a super cool writing style. I'm really glad that you have a venue to write...someday I think you should write a book. Seriously.
Ha! Kristen is right as is honorary Olsen family member. Uh, wait. Kristen...you ruined it! I really wanted to know if anyone could get it. Olsens are not allowed to play!
Cozy55...you are so mysterious. Thanks for visiting my blog. I can already tell that you are a woman of force in the world. I'm sure that my kids are as cute as your grandkids...maybe cuter.
Holly, come to my house right now and we'll enjoy some Flight of the Conchords while making salsa or something. You now have one demerit and I'm giving you 10 days to redeem yourself.
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