The Awesome Ache of Adolescent Angst...
Folks, I've fallen down another rabbit hole.
I was well jel of Molly here
This time, it's a mostly wholesome obsession with 1980s teen films. Since I've had the power to tape them off the telly, I've watched many of them, repeatedly. But over the past weeks, I've gone deep. I've fed myself a concentrated diet of Andrew McCarthy, Ally Sheedy, and Rob Lowe, to name but a few. Think The Breakfast Club, St. Elmo's Fire, and Pretty in Pink. Even now, they make me ache with teenage angst. Crazy, huh? And as someone that was technically a child when these films were being made, the aspirational coolness that they exuded, hasn't diminished with age.
Me, aged 16. As far from cool as it's possible to be.
It's probably no coincidence that Saturday was thirty-five years since I started high school. Or that this month marks the thirtieth anniversary of starting sixth form college - a developmental marker that saw the dawn of the person I am today. It may have happened a decade later than those childhood films depict, but I was still uber-conscious of the coolness I hoped/failed to exude; of the me I was trying to project. Despite the coolness that had been modelled to me by those films, the startling jolt of realisation - that I was not cool in any way - would come and go at regular intervals. But the aim was always there. I wanted to be one of the Brat Pack. I wanted to be Molly Ringwald or Ally Sheedy. I wanted to date Andrew McCarthy.
Blane from Pretty in Pink 💖
It was whilst looking for my next teen-angst fix, that I found the documentary, Brats.(Disney +) Andrew McCarthy, crush of my youth and of Brat Pack fame, has made a film about the effect the label Brat Pack had on him as a young actor. He interviews his fellow teen-actors, now in their early sixties, about the way that term diminished them and possibly closed doors for their careers. The actors who appear to have had the most therapy (Demi Moore and Rob Lowe) seem the most accepting and upbeat, but for others (Emilio Estevez) the pain lingers. Funny, isn't it. Even the so-called cool kids didn't feel so cool. Not then, nor now. Perhaps there's a lesson here. If we each went back and made a documentary about our own peer groups, maybe we'd realise the cool kids weren't cool at all. Maybe we'd get closure about the insecurities of our past. Maybe we'd walk taller and be more accepting of our lot in life. Or maybe I'm overthinking everything as usual. Hey ho.
Writing News
Chapter 2 is done. I repeat Chapter 2 is done. Because of a busy end of the week (see Out and About for deets) I haven't started Chapter 3 yet, but like winter, it's coming. I did, however, use my writing group meeting for a suggest-fest*. In this book (Leeza McAuliffe Book 3**) I want Leeza to have more rows with her mum. She's an everyday 'normal' teenager so it's perfectly standard for her to hate her parents at regular intervals. The problem I had was thinking of things they can clash over. It's dawned on me that I've made her mother too damn reasonable. Grrr. Why didn't I foresee this? I should have known I'd want her to be the antagonist to my protagonist at some point. Happily, thanks to my fortnightly writing gang, I've got a slew of reasons why Leeza and Molly can have regular showdowns. All within character, and all - I think it's fair to say - based on our collective teen experiences.
Culture
I've already told you the vast bulk of my viewing week. Teen films for the win! But all this high school navel-gazing reminded me of the excellent documentary, My Old School (2022). It's the story that broke in 1995 of Brandon Lee, a Scottish seventeen year old who turned out to be a thirty year old man. Directed by one of his classmates, Jono McLeod, it's a fascinating look into the motivations of why Brandon (not his real name) made the choices he did. Former classmates are interviewed, and the voice of Lee is heard throughout. (Lip synced by Alan Cumming.) It's filled with hugely relatable high school nostalgia, whilst telling a hugely unrelatable, compelling story. On top of that, the simple exercise of gathering a former peer group, a few decades after they've known each other, to share perspectives of the same period, is fascinating. I rented it from the Sky Store (the trailer's here) and it's well worth your time.
My muesli jar of joy
Food and Drink
When I was at school, if you'd have asked me to rank all the cereals then CocoPops would've charted at #1 and muesli would be below the bottom of the list. Muesli, which my mum ate, was pointless and disgusting. Its only redeeming features were the dried bits of banana that were stingily allocated to each box. (Obvs I'd pick them out before they made it to my mum's bowl.) Fast forward to now and WHO HAVE I BECOME? I LIKE MUESLI. Before we spin ourselves silly with that about-turn, I have caveats. It has to be my homemade muesli. It has to have zero currants/raisins/sultanas. It must have texture and crunch, rather than a preponderance of oat sog, and it must be tasty. So are you ready? Here's my recipe and method, all in one.
Get a big jar with a lid.
Add a packet of sunflower seeds.
Add a packet of pumpkin seeds.
Add a packet of chia seeds.
Add a packet of flaked almonds.
Add a load of oats. About the same volume as the nuts and seeds combined.
Put on the lid and vigorously shake.
Ta-daaa! Serve with Greek yogurt, or milk. Add fresh fruit if you want, or a drizzle of honey. I use this date syrup but you do you. It's been my daily breakfast for a few weeks and it's boss.
Out and About
I'm just back from London. A friend was having a get-together so I braved Avanti and had a couple of nights away. It was utterly marvellous. Catching up on our grown up lives whilst remembering our shared memories is always good for the soul. And even though I've just made a sarky comment about Avanti, isn't it cool that I can get from the North West of England to Central London in two hours? Despite the pull of youthful nostalgia, things like that remind me it's SO much better being an adult with agency.
More next week if you're game. Yes? No? There's no need to commit now. Take your time, have a think, and I'll see you when I see you.
Have a lovely week, folks.
*I can only apologise. Something in the back of my brain told me 'we don't use brainstorm anymore'. I Googled 'alternatives to brainstorm' and got suggest-fest. I'm not sure any of us are better off.
**Fun fact! I called Leeza's mum, Molly, because I pictured current-day Molly Ringwald playing the role, and I called Leeza's brother, Blane, because of Molly Ringwald's love interest in Pretty in Pink, played by Andrew McCarthy. Doesn't it go deep!