All I Remember Are My Star Wars Figurines, My G.I. Joes, and My Godzillas. They Terrorized My Sister's Barbies.

I don't ever remember Cynde having Barbie Dolls, but I remember Casey and her friends would play with them. If I was asked to join, I'd bring my spaceships and laser beams to destroy their Barbie-dom. Yes, the dolls were everywhere, but they never seemed to catch my interest.

I have no idea why I chose to watch the Barbie movie that came out. I saw it won awards and there were all these readings of feminist texts, so I watched to see what the social commentary would be. The only good thing about the entire movie was the Indigo Girls song. Get rid of the flick and give the singers a Grammy more or two. Seriously, that was one of the dumbest movies I've ever seen, and I was trying to be optimistic, academic, and intellectual about what I was watching - like some big social commentary.

But it was only the Indigo Girls and Weird Barbie (of course with was Kate McKinnon and the Indigo Girls that made it only slightly (and I mean slightly) tolerable. McKinnon and the Indigo Girls are geniuses...not sure about what the rest of that move was supposed to be. As the kids say in school, "That was cringe-worthy."

Or have I just entered a new phase in life where I'm incapable of seeing artistic genius for what it is? I can't imagine any one sees that as award-worthy? Are we that desperate for good films?

I laughed more at the fact that I watched the film than the humor of the film. Even Will Farrell's character was 1-dimensional and stupid. I'm still shaking my head wondering what I was suppose to get out of it. 

That's how I spent my Saturday night (dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb). Can't reverse my decision, but now I have Sunday to recuperate. I'm focused on total recovery.