Andyland, USA

I realize that about all I can plan anymore, is that over the course of a given day, you're gonna eat, you're gonna go to bed, and you're gonna—hopefully--wake up. But sometimes in the given 16 hours we're actually up and doing things, the list of tasks we found ourselves tasked with, can get a little overwhelming. I dislike feeling overwhelmed. I've been known to have panic attacks now and then, and sometimes that feeling of being overwhelmed is the first step to what eventually results in myself breathing into a paper bag behind the Piggly Wiggly, and screaming “I'm perfectly fine! Don't look at me! Never look at me!” Next thing you know, TMZ runs around saying I'm dating Lindsay Lohan. It's not a great cycle. But it happens, and I'm alright with that, most of time. Sometimes I wake up and it seems like it's a never ending flow of phone calls and text messages from people needing something, or some new task to do. Pick up my grandmo

Story time, gang! Gather round the whole story tree and lend an ear! (I promise I'll never start a column off like that again, OK?) So here's something about me that you might not know. When I was in my pre-teen/middle school years, I was a MASSIVE James Bond fan. It was a great time to be a young James Bond fan in the mid/late 1990s. The series had just been freshly booted with Pierce Brosnan in Goldeneye , and there was the KILLER corresponding video game for the Nintendo 64 that WE ALL PLAYED. Just how big was my 007 fandom? Up to 1998, I had ALL the Bond movies on VHS tape. Each and every one. On their own shelf. In order. Next to a stack of James Bond trading cards. That was next to a book of 007 Movie Poster art—a book I still have. I used to spend those lovely lazy Saturdays in my room, watching marathons of Bond movies. One week I'd watch all of Sean Connery's movies, then the next I'd tackle all of Roger Moore's. Why is it that I only had

The last truly successful party I hosted was in 2005. It was a Christmas party, and it was a wonderful evening. We hate, laughed, danced to records, opened gifts, and watched SCTV Christmas episodes. It was a good crowd too, about fifteen people. Not too small, not too large. Just right. Then in 2006 I sent out notices for another Christmas party—which for a while was a yearly tradition. But for some reason, hardly anyone came to the party in 2006. 2005 had fifteen people, 2006 had three. After that year I put the Christmas party out to pasture. But in 2011 I threw the first one in five years. At the time I was living with a roommate, and we thought it would be a fun thing to do. We culled our lists of friends and invited a equal number from both. Most of their's arrived, two of mine did. It was a very boring affair, the food was decent at best, and her friends spent the whole night talking about their paranormal investigations. When my friends did arrive, they broug

  Folks, I'm gonna get up on my soap box—which ironically is rather dirty at the moment—and clear up a few misconceptions people seem to have about those of us who are young, passionate, classic movies fans. First, the biggest misconception people have about young movie freaks, is that we HATE modern movies. We don't hate modern movies. Now, do I wanna go see the majority of the films that play at the mega-plex? No, I don.'t Does that I mean I hate those movies. Nope. Outside of Michael Bay, who I'm pretty sure just presses a few buttons on a computer, and out comes a movie. I see plenty of modern movies, I just like the ones of a smaller, indie nature. Is that wrong? No, it's not. I love movies. Period. End of discussion! I just happen to be super passionate about the classic era of Hollywood. If I want to share a classic movie with you, it's not because I think it's better than what you like, it's just because I get so excited by something

I'll just ask it: How many wedding invitations and/or “save the dates” have you gotten yet? I'm up to two, and that was BEFORE March. Of course, we live in a modern digital age, where you don't even need paper and pen to announce the world your intentions of committing your bank account to another person. Our little digital friend, Facebook, again comes to the rescue! It seems you can't swing a digital cat on there without hitting someone who just got engaged, and wants you to know about it. There's a spectrum to gage the reaction one has when they receive a wedding or engagement notice.  On one end we have the happy reactions, the kind you have when the notices all involve a close friend, or someone who you genuinely know is in love. You say things like “Aww, how sweet!”, or “Finally! They're gonna tie the knot!” Then we have the middle ground, “Oh, I didn't know they were even dating.” and “I've not seen her since the fifth grade, guess she jus