Sixteen-Year-Old Me Strikes Again

     Note to self: don't try to write while Camp Rock 2 is on TV in the background. I know I know, it's a slightly cheesy pre-teen movie. But it's no good trying to write a very important, gotta-be intense conversation between my hero and heroine while Nick Jonas is in the background singing about how he thinks cheese smells like feet. No joke. And FYI- the song is totally cute, really. (see below)

     It just proves the truth of my previous post (sixteen-year-old me vs. thirty-year-old me). Thirty-(one)-year-old me is trying to focus and be responsible, trying to get a thousand words written before it's time to make dinner. Sixteen-year-old me is wishing I was in the movie dancing next to Demi Lovato. Or at least dancing in front of the TV.
     Ah well, I finally gave up, mid-sentence, when I realized I had barely made it over 1,000 words. I'd been staring at the same sentence for more than ten minutes with no idea how to write what I was trying to say. Now I'm finding it just as hard to blog because the movie is still on. What can I say? I like teen musicals (although I prefer ones with Zac Efron in them over the JoBros). I just can't squash my sixteen-year-old self down. She's fighting her way out of me, trying to burst out with some poppin', lockin' and we're all in this together-in'.
     And then my two-year-old walks by, the smell of poop wafting over me, and sixteen-year-old me dashes back into hiding, holding her nose all the way. Ah well. That's the way it goes. I'll just have to remember tomorrow not to let my daughter watch any of her movies while I'm trying to write.