The Shiny Guy ALWAYS Worries.

Confession: I am a closet Star Wars nerd.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry -- please don't judge me. It's nothing like Shelby's frenetic obsession with Lord of the Rings, but I just love it. As a self-proclaimed movie snob, this is hard to stomach; admittedly, the acting is horrible. I mean, if one more character says some variation of "I have a bad feeling about this..." as Storm Troopers loom near or else they tell some unlikely protagonist that they are the "only hope" for salvation from certain doom, I might kick my TV. Literally. I will get off of my couch, walk to my TV, and kick it. Oh, and those graphics in the original trilogy? Hilarious. But regardless -- there is something about it that I just absolutely love.

Maybe it's the sentimental history that I have with the movies. I have this weird quirk about me where I remember a ton of really distinct details about certain events...Shelby gets really creeped out by it. I don't know why some memories stick so strongly whereas others don't, but it happens. Anyway, one of my absolute favorite childhood memories happened when I was in third or fourth grade. It was a summer night, a Sunday, I think, and I was sitting in the basement of my old house. The lights were off, but the dying sun shone threw the windows that were near the ceiling. The basement was the coolest place in the house, and I was practicing the piano down there. Even though I had never seen the movies, I was learning the iconic Star Wars theme song; I think that Episode 1 was set to be released soon. Anyway, I ran through it a time or two before my dad literally bounded down the stairs. "Is that Star Wars?!" he asked, excited. I shrugged.

"Yeah," I said.

"Get in the van!" he shouted.

Minutes later, my brothers and sister and I were piled in that old white van, speeding toward Blockbuster to rent the trilogy. We stopped at the McDonalds drivethru and got cheeseburgers and went back to the basement, where my father introduced us to that galaxy far far away.

Ever since then, I have loved the franchise. I loved it when the first three episodes came out...I have a similar memory of a late night movie theatre adventure [it was Father's Day, Payne Stewart won the US open that day, and after Daddy watched that, we went to a late show of Episode 1 at M-89 Cinema, Drue's friend AJ was with us, and I literally thought it was the coolest thing in the world that ours was one of the only cars left in the parking lot after the movie, plus I was with AJ. Like, omigosh.] I loved collecting the Mountain Dew cans with all of the characters on it. I loved that it gave Drue and I something in common.

What's more, I just love the story. And I love Harrison Ford. And I love the genius and creativity that went into making the movies. They are so weird and stupid and yet incredible... it's all about the oxymoron. Needless to say, then, when I went to Blockbuster on my own last weekend and rented, ahem, Star Wars: A New Hope, The Usual Suspects, and The Music Man, it was all about the oxymoron. Also a given, once I watched a single episode, I needed to watch the rest. That's why Shelby and I snuck out of the house, got McDonalds, and locked ourselves in our bedroom with the original trilogy. We have traditions surrounding those movies. The result? Bliss. Han Solo, love I do. Luke, creepier and creepier gets.

Anyway, I just felt the need to confess this to you. I'm not this type of girl -- I don't think many people would peg me as a major Star Wars fan. And in my defense, it's not like I'm hoarding plastic lightsabers under my bed or that I sleep in Chewbaca boxers or anything...I just have a healthy appreciation for fantasy worlds and nostalgia.

Oh, and this little girl. She makes my life and drives me crazy to watch one of the movies everytime I see her. Also, she makes me want to have a baby right now and name her Padme or Yoda or Lando or something equally ridiculous, but that is neither here nor there. Please please please please please please watch this. Then rent A New Hope. Then try to tell me you're not in love with George Lucas for gracing everyone with such a lovely gift. Just try. I dare you.