Favorite.

I have to wonder if the sudden upheaval of cases of "non clinical depression" correlates at all with the possibility that maybe people just aren't watching THE SOUND OF MUSIC* as often as they should be. Seriously. There's a reason why this is my Sick Movie. Try to feel sorry for yourself while watching The Sound of Music**. Better yet, watch a Holocaust documentary to gain some perspective and then chase it with The Sound of Music. I'm telling you. Possible side effects include sporadic singing and frequent line reciting with the occasional urge to, I don't know, leap or something. The only thing I can think of that releases similar endorphins is a tour jeté. 

Anyway. Between the ages of two and five I was exceedingly precious and happy and  I'm pretty sure I can attribute said happiness to my parents, sure, but also to daily viewings of The Sound of Music and specifically Julie Andrews. What a princess. That woman is Xanax in human form. Luckily, I didn't build up a resistance to The Sound of Music as a mood booster during those heady toddler years, so it still proves to be effective now that I'm a twenty-three year old East coast transplant living the dream in Los Angeles amidst a concentrated amount of bonafide douchebags. 

Okay, seriously Liesl, you're way more invested in Young Nazi Rolf than he is in you. It's okay, you're only sixteen. Sure, he sings a good game, but you'll learn the truth eventually. For what it's worth, your gazebo dress is absolutely gorgeous and gave me a total dress complex that started as soon as I developed the coordination necessary to stand up in a dress and make it twirl. This one just takes the cake and you go and get it all covered in rain and dirt over Nazi Rolf in the gazebo. 

And Georg, what could you possibly see in The Baroness? She's clearly a money grubbing whore who does not even love your children! Open your eyes! She wants to send them to BOARDING SCHOOL of all places! Maria is a ray of sunshine with a lovely voice and has nothing but the best intentions and yeah, she might not have a billion dollar ball gown collection like The Baroness does, but come on now. She's clearly the answer, and what do you do? You try to ship her back to the abbey! Oh man.

Wow, I'm only twenty minutes in and this is turning into a stream of consciousness liveblog of The Sound of Music. While I'm sure that nothing could possibly be more interesting to read than three hours' worth of my Rodgers and Hammerstein free association musings, I'm going to go ahead and quit while I'm ahead.

Assuming, of course, that I ever was ahead to begin with. I might have given up that spot when I admitted to Sound of Music Therapy so...it's fine. 

*I'm leaving this as is because I automatically typed it this way without thinking. Has putting the titles of movies in all caps seriously become a reflex? Is that actually happening? It's bad enough that I can blind dial a phone based on the sounds that each number makes and even worse that whenever I dial any number, ever, I have taken to throwing a 9 ahead of the area code, just because. My job is such a dream.

**I made a conscious effort that time. There's no need to shout.

***I really like footnoting, I've decided.