Well, well, that was a long time ago, then. The NyQuil-beset version of my brain thought tonight that "My Stepmother Is an Alien" was from the mid-'90s. It was from -- thank you, IMDb.com, if you ever can load quickly -- 1988, and Ms. H was 14. Quite a change.
... Beware your forties, amigos y amigas. Things already begin to run together ...
What mystifies me is that I saw "American Pie," missed her entirely, and haven't the slightest notion who she was. (In a horny-teenager comedy of no great distinction. Except for the oversexed nerdy girl playing flute and getting a lot out of *ahem* Band camp. That rang true. There's a reason I played flute with all those girls around me for eight years in Band *ahem squared* ... but I digress.)
I missed every minute of "Buffy," movie and series. Never understood what the commotion was about. O'course, the DCMBers never grasped why I had to see Nicole and Ewan in "Moulin Rouge" 17 times, either, you philistines {grin}
