Jim Carrey turns 51 today. But my mom won’t care. She hates him. I think it all goes back to a trailer she saw forÂ Ace Ventura: Pet DetectiveÂ back in the early ’90s. I’m not entirely sure, all I know is that he was banned from my house. I can’t even tell you how much courage it took to ask my Mom to rentÂ Liar, LiarÂ from Blockbuster back in 1997. It was akin to telling her I was dropping out of the 4th grade to pursue my burlesque dancing career — completely unacceptable in her eyes. No actually, probably worse.
It didn’t matter that she let me check outÂ Flowers in the AtticÂ from the public library in 5th grade or that I had several screennames that I would use to go into AOL chatrooms and say things like “yes, I am an adult. You can confirm this because whenÂ someoneÂ said press 123 if you’re an adult, I did exactly that.” ThoseÂ activitiesÂ didn’t even come close to watching a Jim Carrey movie in her eyes.
Sadly for my childhood, Jim Carrey wasn’t the only thing unequivocallyÂ Â banned from my house as a child. Nope, my mom had a long list of things on her “absolutely not” list. Â It’s as if she wanted me to be an elementary school pariah who could only converse aboutÂ The Babysitter’s ClubÂ and the complete lack of nutrition in white bread.
What else made her list of horrors? You can read below. Let me just warn you that this reads like a rejected script fromÂ American Horror Story. That’s how weird and backwards and confusing it is for an average person who’s mother didn’t turn to stone at the mention of staying up past my bedtime to watch the last thirty minutes ofÂ Dawson’s Creek.