Tina Rowley

writer + (performer) + [space left blank for surprises]

Welcome to the internet home of Tina Rowley. Here you'll find my blog, links to my other published writing, and whatever ends up climbing into the space I left blank for surprises.

 

have you seen toy story?



Because I have. I've seen it at least once a day for the last three weeks. Occasionally, I have seen it twice a day. The miracle? I STILL LIKE IT. That's got to be a pretty fuckin' sound movie there to withstand a godzillion consecutive viewings like that.

You know what one trick is? Watching a movie like that over and over? You watch different parts of the screen. See how they animated the windowsill in the upper right hand corner. See how they made the wood floor look very shiny, and behold the subtle shadows of the banisters. You can get a lot of mileage out of this technique. Savor the animation. Saaaavor it.

And then you can focus on the voiceovers. Imagine the actors in front of their microphones, doing different takes. See if you can guess which ones made them laugh and they had to do them over.
Then you can imagine different friends of yours in different parts, if you have a lot of actor friends. (Even if you don't. Just imagine which friends and acquaintances are existentially right for the different parts.) Who do I know who'd make a good Woody? Yeah, that guy'd be good. THAT guy would be a great Buzz Lightyear. I'm going to pretend he's Buzz Lightyear during this scene. What about this friend? Is there a role for him here? Mr. Potatohead? Not bad. The pig? The dinosaur? I think I'm going to read him for the pig. The pig and Mr. Potatohead. For when I direct the stage show. The tiny experimental Seattle theater version of Toy Story. Good. Good.

Finn and I were watching Toy Story the other day, and it came to the part where Buzz finds out he's just a toy and there's that melancholy Randy Newman musical interlude where Buzz is staggering around all disillusioned. Finn wandered off and started playing with a window handle, so I paused the movie. He turned around and said, "No, let's watch it. Let the man sing."

Let the man sing.

Finn is also in love with the pit bull in the movie, the bad neighbor kid's dog. He'll pop awake in the morning, "Want to see the big white dog! Want to say hi to him!" And he'll stare at the dog lovingly and make me rewind the dog parts fifty times, and he'll say, "I want to pick him up." Then he'll note that "he's very heavy". Theoretically.

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I'm still pregnant, everyone! And that means that I'm very tired and moody and I'm forced to eat ice cream sandwiches. Toy Story : Finn as ice cream sandwiches : me.

Also, I'll be frank. We're rooting for a girl. Until further notice, I'm living the dream. This is the last child we're going to have, so I'm bookmarking awesome little lady outfits on the web like a crazy person right now. We thought Finn was a girl at first last time, and we think he's the best thing since sliced bread, so it's not like we're going to be bummed out if it's Fred. Fred would get a hero's welcome. But we have booked a ticket for Oona. C'mon, little mama. Break for the double X.

We haven't told Finn yet. We're going to wait until I start to show. In the meantime, we're just talking about babies a lot. What do you think about babies? Look at this baby in this magazine. What do you think? Look at that mommy's tummy. There's a baby in there. How about this baby? What do you think? You remember Linus? and Luna? Linus is Luna's big brother. Linus is a big brother. Just sayin'.

Finn loves looking at babies. I pointed to one baby and he declared, "THAT is a CUTIE." And, naturally - like he does with everything else in this world from pit bulls to his friend Miles to giant construction cranes and houses - he wants to pick babies up. If you see Finn somewhere, and he looks at you, know that he's thinking about what it would be like to pick you up.

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Our due date is festive, being Christmas Eve, but it's also sort of crappy. It makes me nervous. I'm wanting to go for a VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean) and I'm afraid that everyone's going to subconsciously - or consciously - hurry me into a cesarean so they can get back to their families and their stockings and eggnog. The midwife I wanted isn't accepting clients for my due date, and it looks like it's going to be the same deal with the doula I was hoping to use. No room at the inn feelings starting up!

The recovery from my cesarean with Finn was GOD. AWFUL. I don't want a repeat!

If you're a groovy Jewish VBAC-supporting certified nurse-midwife who oversees births at Group Health (which has the lowest c-section rate in the state) and you're free in late December, call me.