Happy to Offset the Grumpy

I believe for every negative, there is a positive. So here's our happy item of the week:

Couple who met, and fell in love, on South Park Bridge 66 years ago sad to see it go

A couple who met more than 66 years ago on the South Park Bridge and fell in love are sad about Wednesday's bridge closure.

By Susan Gilmore

Seattle Times staff reporter

It was love at first sight that day in September 1943 when Vern Landry spotted a girl walking home across the South Park Bridge.

This Thanksgiving, the couple will celebrate their 66th wedding anniversary.

It's with a mixture of sadness and happy memories that the couple, who now live in Yuma, Ariz., face Wednesday's closure of the 79-year-old bridge.

"If it's ever rebuilt, it won't be the same, said Landry, 83. "It was really important to us, a real start."

His wife, Ardis, 83, agreed. "I used to walk over the bridge all the time."

It was that September day when Vern Landry, his brother Eugene and two friends were driving across the bridge and saw the 17-year-old girl walking alone, heading home from her job at Boeing's Shelter Cafe. Was she cute? "She was a girl," said Vern Landry.

His brother was driving his '41 Chevy and stopped the car in the middle of the bridge and offered her a ride home. Ardis wasn't about to get into a car with a bunch of strangers, even though she thought Vern was pretty darned handsome.

So they asked her if they could follow her home across the bridge. She agreed, knowing she had her parents and eight brothers and sisters waiting for her. Lots of protection if these guys turned out to be hellions.

Vern hit it off with her father right away. It seems they had both lived in Madison, Minn. Ardis had moved from there to Seattle the year before, and Vern had worked there when he didn't have enough money to take the bus to South Dakota.

Ardis was a junior at Cleveland High School and walked every day the three miles from her school to her job and then home to South Park. Vern had left school and soon joined the Army. He later went to work for, and retired from, the Union Pacific Railroad.

Vern's first date was actually with Ardis' older sister Ellen, a woman his brother Eugene eventually married. Ardis was jealous, but it didn't take long for Vern to find the love of his life.

Both still say their encounter on the South Park Bridge was love at first sight. They married in 1944, and Ardis' father helped them buy their first house in White Center. It cost $2,080 and required a $300 down payment and a mortgage payment of $12 a month. Vern didn't have the down payment, so Ardis' father paid it.

Vern Landry says he's not sure what his life would have been had his brother not stopped the car on the South Park Bridge that September day, but he and Ardis have cherished the story for more than six decades.

"This story has been with us forever," he said.

He Is NOT A Hero

He is a little f&%ker that most of us who live in the Pacific Northwest want caught. I hate to even type his name but I have to or this whole post will be nonsense.

Colton Harris Moore. I would usually provide links but I don't want to lend any more attention to him than necessary. Google his name, it will pop up as a suggestion. He's been featured in Time, Rolling Stone, New York Times, everywhere.

This is the only site that I will link to: http://catchthebarefootbandit.wordpress.com/

He is a thief and nothing more. He is not a hero. He is not a modern day Robin Hood or Jesse James. He is a thief. He has stolen thousands of dollars worth of stuff in many different states and British Columbia.

While some people profess that he is just robbing from people who can well afford it, I say: Stealing is stealing. Beyond the material things, the people whom he has robbed no longer have a peace of mind they once had. It's not like he hits a house once and moves on, he's been known to return. He shot at a Sheriff's deputy. He is a punk.

He has a Facebook fan page. He has his own fan club website. There are freaking t-shirts available for sale.

Well, I have this to say to his fans: he's moved toward the Midwest now. We'll see how proud & supportive people are of this little bastard now that he's headed your direction. Wait until he steals your car, breaks into your house, uses your computer then we'll see how charming he is.

There is a bounty hunter looking for him, free of charge. Rumor has it that is why he's moved on. There is a reward. He was offered a free lawyer and a cash sum if he turned himself in. What did he do? Rob some more houses & businesses. Oh but wait, he donated $100 to a animal shelter....that undoes his evil deeds, doesn't it?

He is a punk. He is not a hero.

Taco Tuesday

I was making dinner tonight and enjoying, more than any normal person should, grating cheese. There is just something satisfying about grating cheese. *Insert your psychological profile opinion here *

In the town where Kevin works, the Mexican restaurant has Taco Tuesday every Tuesday. The guys go down & buy I don't even want to know how many $1 tacos and eat until they're sick.

I was thinking about that tonight and it reminded me of my ex-mother-in-law, she made spaghetti every Thursday night. She said that she did it because it was easy on the last evening of the workweek. I like the idea, if not necessarily the person it came from.

I don't usually decide what I am going to make for dinner until I am standing in front of the pantry. I am just incapable of planning anything ahead, unless it's ordering pizza. The problem compounds when Kevin shrugs and says "I don't care" when I ask him what he wants for dinner. I usually offer three things to him then he chooses. Tonight was tacos, spaghetti, or *shudder* hamburger helper. He chose tacos and that's good because I didn't really have anything for me to eat instead of helper.

You know what makes getting dinner ready so much more pleasant? A melodramatic romance on Hallmark Channel starring the ever-so-yummy Mark Consuelos.



Hmm, what? Oh yeah.

I was also thinking that perhaps that could help with my hate-to-cook issue that I've been having. Perhaps if I assigned a meal to a specific day, that would help the both of us. I make the same ten things over and over anyway. And it's not like lives would be lost of I broke the rules.

After all this time, I still struggle with making too much for just two people. When I make tacos, I use the leftover meat for spaghetti/goulash and share with the in-laws. But for the rest of our meals, I still feel like I waste too much food.

Do you make certain things on certain days? Sunday dinners? (we usually have breakfast on Sunday nights) Do you shop way ahead with a menu or just buy general ingredients? and I am assuming y'all cook after all.

Quiet Sunday Night

So poppets, I got nothing. It's been a quiet weekend, one day of sun & one day of rain. Kevin was gone most of the day yesterday so I had some decompression time (laying in the recliner watching Hallmark Channel movies). The fever I didn't know I had broke Friday night so that was nice.
But I did take this picture yesterday:


Then I found this quote today:

There are no mistakes. The events we bring upon ourselves, no matter how unpleasant, are necessary in order to learn what we need to learn; whatever steps we take, they're necessary to reach the places we've chosen to go.
Richard Bach

Have a good week friends! We'll talk more tomorrow.

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Today I did a little experiment. I still had a WalMart card with a balance on it from the failed bedroom redecorating project and I needed groceries.

The WalMart by my hometown is a brand new Super Walmart. I have been in there a few times but never for groceries. It's a pretty doggone big store. Even when it's busy, it doesn't seem like it inside. This morning it was actually quiet.

Luckily, I have been in the SWM in Vegas so the layout was kind of familiar. It still took me longer to find stuff than I would prefer in a store.

The one that I noticed that really started to bother me was the television screens advertising products on the aisle. It was distracting because you hear the voices but don't see anyone. After awhile, I began to feel like I was on that spaceship in WALL-E, with the constant bombardment of noise and images.

BFF K had told me to pay attention to serving sizes, etc. She's right in the fact that they are off just a tiny bit. Enough that you wouldn't notice unless someone wise pointed it out to you. It felt like being in one of those grocery outlet stores which seems like a good deal until you do that math.

If you buy the store brand, the labels are black & white and makes me remember when generic was first offered as an option in grocery stores. (Yes, I am that old. hush) But the fun thing is that it kept reminding me of the Dharma food on LOST. If I looked at it that way, I felt kind of hip and groovy.

In the end, I did the math and I don't think there was any significant savings versus my regular grocery store, Fred Meyers (or Krogers for you right coasters) Which is kind of a relief as I like my store so much. Also, I think there is a bigger risk of me overspending at the Wally World because the non-grocery items are less expensive than other stores.

Where do you grocery shop? At one store faithfully or at a few different stores? Coupons?

Yeah, it's Pneumonia

Because my life was just going too smoothly, my mom decided to make it a little interesting.

First, it must be noted that a few weeks ago I mentioned in "Piece of Cake" that my mom jinxed me.

Second, my mom has had some sort of an injury around this time of year over the past few years. Broken toe, stitches in her hand, etc.

With that duly noted, I bring you this:

I have gotten out of the habit of carrying my cell with me 24/7. It is often on quiet even which makes it *fun* when I misplace it.

Last night was no exception. I left the phone on the kitchen counter while we ate dinner, I did the dishes and chores, for about an hour. When I finally picked it up, I had two missed calls and two messages. This is just never good.

First message was from my mom. She tells me all about she took Rose (her lifelong BFF) out to dinner and she was in town when she started coughing, yadda yadda yadda, "It's like my gall bladder attack". But it's not because she doesn't have a gall bladder. Anyway, she was in the ER. And she was worried about getting her car home.

Really.

Second message similar to the first. She can't reach Brother Dear because he was at drill. (he's an EMT & battalion chief)

I called her back and she tells me the whole story again and the only reason that she needs me to come down is she's worried about her car.

Let's do a little geography. I live on the county line of the northernmost counties. My parents live in the south east corner of the lower county. So, it's about 45 minutes for me to drive door-to-door.

Oh, and it's 8:30 pm.

And she's worried about her car.

Before you think I'm a heartless bitch and the world's most ungrateful kid: she told me that Rose was taking her home so I didn't have to worry about it. (yes, there is no logic there)

I talked to Kevin, who is already in his jammies (track pants & t-shirt, not footies or anything) He was about fifteen minutes from going to bed. I came up with the idea of just driving my mom home in her car then driving my dad's truck back to the hospital then taking my truck home and worrying about it when it's not 10:00 pm.

Kevin, because he's smarter than me, says "Will the truck start? does it have gas? insurance?"
Well, it hasn't been driven since June 2009 so probably not. As much as I was glad that he thought of it, *frustrating*

So we get into the truck and I am pulling out of the driveway when Brother Dear calls. He is on his way from drill to the hospital. I just looked at Kevin and said "Get Out". Brother Dear just cracked up laughing. Kevin questioned the idea and I just repeated "Get out. Get Out. Get Out."

Off I head to the hospital, again. I called Little Brother, who works nights building airplanes at Boeing and isn't available to the phone, and tell him what had happened. "There's no reason to come unless you just want to get off work." I got a text from him stating "Look forward to communicating via text". Um. Okay, Batman.

I pulled into the parking lot and Brother Dear is already there. How he did that is still puzzling. "I had all green lights" he says with a grin.

I walk into the lobby just in time for Mom to come out. Brother Dear asks "What Chinese restaurant did you eat at?"

Mom tells him & we all look at him quizzically.

"Well, I just wanted to make sure I didn't eat there."

Yeah, we're a sympathetic bunch.

We form a vehicular chain back to the restaurant, pick up her car, and head out to the lake. Mom is chat, chat, chatting as if we'd all just gone out to dinner. In fact, I am not sure that she didn't think we had.

I have now texted Little Brother with an update and that Mom was fine, just a little zoomy or zoomier, if you will. He responds "Have fun with that." Nice.

She goes into the house and pulls up a seat at the breakfast bar like we're just going to have a little visit. Brother Dear looks at me and arches his eyebrow. We both tried to guide her: "Well, Mom, why don't you go get ready for bed." "It's getting late...." etc.

"Oh no." *yawning* "I have to watch Channel 13 news."

Okay Mom.

Finally Brother Dear just said "Okay, I'm going." We left as if we had a visit and not one including the ER.

I talked to her today and she's back to normal, like nothing ever happened. Apparently she's a Weeble. ("weebles wobble but they don't fall down" for you youngin's out there)

"I think I had pneumonia" she says.

So here is what the diagnosis is: She had her gall bladder removed in January 09. At that time, Dr Mark the Wonder Surgeon said that she had a pocket/bulge/cyst that he felt was caused by the bad gall bladder & would resolve itself in time. The ER docs felt that it might not have resolved thus causing a coughing fit that wouldn't stop but produced nothing but phlegm. (Bea, do you have an opinion? )

She is supposed to call Dr Mark today, as of 1:00 this afternoon she still hadn't. "I should have gotten that pneumonia shot in the fall...."

And that's how we spent our Thursday evening.

Wishful Wednesday

on a Thursday. It is Thursday, right? Because if it's not: Hostages Will Be Taken.

I was reading over at Jamie's place this morning and clicked on the "More from BlogHer" links to this: "I wish I hadn't lost..." which was actually linked from this.

The reason I am telling you in this circuitous route is the blog template that the Seattle Smiths have is TEH CUTE...and so you don't think I've come up with this idea on my own.

Anyway.........gotta love the ADD...

I wish I hadn't lost....well, I really had to think about it. I don't lose stuff much. Mostly, it's electronical things: my flash drive (in a reusable grocery bag), a chapter of the unfinished novel (CD in a drawer, mislabeled) and one non-electronical: a paring knife. (in the kitchen junk drawer. I don't even know.)

But there is one thing that I've lost that I still feel all "GAH" when I think of it.

I lost it at the school. I am not sure if it fell behind something or if it fell off (unlikely) or if someone wanted it more than I did. But it's gone.

My love for this watch is unreasonable. It was the perfect watch. It was small & cute, it fit well. It sung the Mickey Mouse Club theme!

I found it online, it cost as much as it did way back in 1989 when I bought it the first time. I added it to my wishlist.

What have you lost that you wish you hadn't?

Honk Honk Wave

Traveling as much as I do on the freeway, I've seen plenty of things. Beautiful things, horrible things, lots of things.

But today made me giggle all day long. As a firm believer in Karma, I was lucky enough to see it happen right before my very eyes.

On the way to work this morning, there was a van bullying it's way through traffic. It was one of those serial killer vans with blacked out windows and a generally creepy aura.

It got behind me and I pulled into the next lane when I got an opportunity. It went by me just to get stuck behind another car. Another car that tapped its brakes then eventually changed lanes.

There is one last curve on the freeway before it drops down into town. Locals know to slow down before that curve and to be in the right lane. State patrolmen love to sit on the first on-ramp, just out of sight until it's too late.

Well, this morning was our lucky day because there was Mr State Patrolman, patiently waiting .

As if we'd all communicated, we all slowed way down. Like 50 in a 65 mph zone slow. It was already obvious that the van had been speeding but it became hugely obvious once he suddenly pulled ahead of us because we slowed down.

The group continued to slow down to let the kindly officer into traffic, get behind the serial killer van, and pull him over.

I think we were all smiling as we finished our drive to work this morning.

News & Notes

Summer finally arrived here in the lovely Pacific Northwest today. And where did I spend it? In bed and not in a good way. I have a stomach thing going on and it is sucking the life out of me.

Yesterday I did a happy dance in the middle of the tiny, one room post office. I am officially a paid writer. My BlogHer check came in. It's not huge but enough for me to consider a small Barnes & Noble spree.

I had an anonymous commenter on the baseball player post. So here's the thing with me: I am a big proponent of free speech however, you have to have the balls to use your name. Anonymous comments will probably be deleted, unless of course they are wonderfully complimentary.

The racecar has been delayed one more month due to mechanical issues. I have to admit that I am not hugely disappointed. It is kind of nice having weekends at home.

The "Woof" post I posted automatically without finishing it so well done me. The only part I would like to mention is that I think the neighbor dog is a bitch partially because one of the owners is difficult. Difficult as in "I don't know who Bon Jovi is" and when someone called her on it, she left in a huff. So the theory, I just realized, is either the dog is a bitch because she hasn't been exposed to Bon Jovi or because the owner is a pain-in-the-ass.

That and what I meant about Missy Jo being an UFC fighter is that she pins the dog down and holds her there as if to say "Are we done? Because I can go all day, bitch"
(I should just repost that one, huh?)

Garden update: there has been so much rain that many of the flowers died and if it wasn't the rain, it was the slugs because of the rain. My funny little mother-in-law was on a "Slug Killing Spree" (her words, not mine) when I got home today.

Okay, that's all I got. Until I hit "publish", of course.

Happy Summer Everyone! Did anyone do anything fun to celebrate the Solstice?

Woof

I found myself saying to the dog today: "I don't care if she told you to eff off in four different languages, hush and lay down."

Yes, I talk to animals like they are people. Kevin taught me that and it seems to work.

But who was the dog barking at, you ask?

Well. Missy Jo Hates the neighbor dog. Hates. The. Neighbor Dog.

Hates.

And Maggie, the neighbor dog, isn't that impressed with Missy. They've tangled a few times with Missy Jo going all UFC on Maggie and making her tap out. Missy is one bad ass dog.

Every day the neighbor goes by with Maggie in the back of the van. Every day Missy barks at her for the next ten minutes. I can't prove it but I believe that Maggie must either flip her off as they go by or talk smack. Probably both.

If Maggie happens to come down by our house, it is a standoff.

"Woof" ("eff you")


"Woof" ("No, eff you)

Repeat for the next five minutes.

One of these days they'll settle it. I hope it's when I am not home.

Happy Father's Day?

Happy Father's Day Everyone....

Or "Happy You're Not A Father Day" in this household...

Or "Happy You're Dad is Not Alive Day"....

Yeah, I know that last one is harsh. However, you were not invited out to celebrate Father's Day for your no-longer-alive father today now were you?

Yeah. That just happened.

I experienced it first hand and I still can't quite believe it happened.

Afterward we went out to dinner with my still-alive father-in-law, my brother-in-law who is a father and grandfather, our godson, and my nephew. It felt a little more "normal" celebrating the day with people who are actually, you know, living.

Oh, and my nephew is considering moving in with his new-ish girlfriend who has four kids. Insta-family: just add nephew!

So....yeah, weird day. How did you spend Father's Day?

With that, I will leave you with Dad of the Year: Phil Dunphy

We Lost Our Marbles

We had a friend over for dinner tonight. He's helping Kevin with the racecar. While he knows Kevin pretty well, he is still getting to know me.

I don't know why or how it ever came into conversation but the Marble Story came up.

If you've heard this one before, feel free to skip today's post. I can't remember if I've told this via blog in the past. I looked but gave up.

Kevin & I lived in a duplex for a year before we bought the house up here. I loved that little duplex and was actually sad to leave it. Anyway, the duplex had an attached carport just outside the door.

It was a sunny day & the door was open. Kevin was getting ready to go somewhere and he sassed me. Somehow I had his shoes and chucked one outside. I remember to this day the expression on his face as I flung it outside. It was one of those moments that can go either way: totally pissed or laughing hysterically.

He stood there in silence for about the beat of ten then whirled around. There was a dish of marbles on the coffee table. He picked them up and dumped them out in the middle of the living room carpet. (green shag carpet)

"Go get my shoe."

"No. Pick up the marbles."

"No."

I am sure there was curse words sprinkled in for good measure.

Kevin finally gave and got his shoe but only because he needed to be somewhere. And there the marbles sat. In the middle of the living room. In front of the television. For everyone to see.

Days went by.

The story spread among family and friends. We no longer heard "Hi, how are you?" but "Have you picked up the marbles yet?"

Days went by.

I vacuumed and dusted around them.

People stopped by to see the marbles.

Weeks went by.

I was beginning to worry that they were going to be there forever.

One night, well over a month later, as we were sitting down to dinner, our friend stopped by. He walked in the house without a word. Scooped up the marbles and put them on the table. "THERE. It. Is. Done."
Then he left.

Clearly, we were meant to be.

06/18/88

When I chose that date, I thought for sure it would be a lucky one. Even numbers, multiple eights, just an overall pleasant sounding date.

Oooh boy was I wrong. Way past wrong.

I have finally reached the place where I don't regret marrying Michael. I don't want to punch random objects when I hear his name. I don't feel sad or angry or well, anything. Hmm, I don't feel anything. Anger? gone. Fear? gone. Embarrassment? gone.

I don't remember that time clearly but memories are beginning to pop back up; pleasant ones nonetheless. Not, to clarify, not love or affectionate feelings but horror used to be the first impulse and that has faded.

It began as a fairy tale and ended as a horror flick. Now twenty-plus years later, I am starting to see the romantic comedy of it.

It was a good day. I had a good time, if nothing else

Get Some Happy Up in Here

I just came across this article from the Seattle Times and had to pass it on:
(click the link of the full article)

Cupid strikes: Mariners bullpen catcher marrying woman he spotted in stands

The courtship started in a bullpen, of all places.

Jason Phillips spotted a woman at Safeco Field last May and knew he had to make a choice: Be bold or be ignored. As the Mariners bullpen catcher, Phillips is used to anonymity, used to spending half the year tucked away in a box with pitchers. It's a thankless job that he does well and without complaint. But this time, he needed to stand out or risk eternal regret.

He shared a few stares with the woman, who was entertaining business clients. Then he made a promise to the fellas in the 'pen.

"If we go extra innings, I'm gonna make a move," Phillips said. "If we go to extra innings, that's gotta be a sign."

The game with the Oakland A's went into extra innings. Phillips grabbed a baseball, scribbled his number on it, got the woman's attention and tossed it to her. And for the rest of the game, he was left to wonder how she'd respond. He couldn't wait to return to the clubhouse and check his messages. Naturally, the game would drag for 15 excruciating innings.

But by then, she had sent him a text message: "My name is Molly. Nice to meet you."

And that's how a bullpen catcher fell in love.

On Sunday, Jason Phillips and Molly Ray will get married, and their wedding guests will attend the ceremony in the only logical place to celebrate their serendipitous romance.

The bullpen.

"It kind of has to be there," Phillip says. "It's only right."

SYTYCD

Another detail about me that you might not know is that I love So You Think You Can Dance.

I am amazed at the dancers, the sheer talent that just defies words. The choreographers are artists as well. I love that the show has come full circle and former contestants are now choreographers and featured dancers.

If you ever are bored, go to the YouTube and look up So You Think You Can Dance. It's worth the time, trust me.

Here are my favorites:
Travis Wall
Katee & Joshua
Katee & Twitch
Dreaming with a Broken Heart
Bleeding Love
Whatcha Say


And to watch these, you'll need Kleenex. Don't doubt, go get it now then click.
Addiction
Breast Cancer

Tonight had a dance that was so incredible that I can't hardly breathe. It is a terrible quality video from YouTube and I will post a new one as soon as it becomes available:

Quaint

I've experienced a facial (and sometimes verbal) expression quite a few times when I describe my life and family.
It's what I've decided to describe as "Isn't that just quaint?"

I have pretty traditional marriage. I took his name. I get up in the mornings and make his lunch. He is often the decision maker, with my input of course.

Our family is close, physically and emotionally. If you get one of us, you get all of us. Like it or not.

Having grown up in a dysfunctional home, the transition into this family was not an easy one. Poor Kevin did more than his fair share of diplomacy. As he got to know my family, especially in the past few years, he totally gets it now. I think he's a little surprised at how functional I actually am .

As I watch my father-in-law care for all of our yards while we are at work, my brother-in-law dropping whatever he is doing to help Kevin, and my mother-in-law making dinner on just the night that I need her to time & again, I realize that my life is how it should be. I won't complain any more. (it's a lofty goal, let me try. hahahaa)

Years ago, families stayed together. Many generations all lived under one roof. While I would have to be heavily medicated or dead to withstand that, I can see where there was great comfort in it.

The truck broke down over the weekend. Last night, after everyone has worked a ten hour day, three men are out there working on getting my truck running again. Why would anyone judge that?

Surely, I often imagining myself swinging my arms helicopter style and silently screaming "PERSONAL SPACE!! PERSONAL SPACE!!!" I have had more than my fair share of "You Did NOT Just tell them That!" moments. I've had to breathe deeply multiple times before saying "Yes, this is too the restaurant where you like the salisbury steak"

But as I saw my in-law family stand in solidarity with my bio family at my dad's memorial, I knew that the balance had shifted.

My life is not quaint. It is my life. And there are many people in it, like it or not.

Quote of the Day

Odd that this was in my email this morning:

We cannot control the parade of negative thoughts marching through our minds. But we can choose which ones we will give our attention to. Picture your thoughts as people passing by the front of your home. Just because they're walking by doesn't mean you have to invite them in.

Gladys Edmunds

It's Easy

You know, it's easy to fall back on sarcasm and derision. It's easy to go negative. This is what I figured out recently: It is more difficult to hold your tongue, keep your eyes in place, and to breathe.

As a sarcastic person, I've been working on holding my tongue. I've failed many times but I am going to keep trying.

A friend mentioned the idea of watching a funny video when she was getting mired in frustration. I rolled that around in my head for awhile and decided that it is a good idea. Another idea that occurred to me was to just plug my headphones into my head and Peace Out. Use it as a filter: not letting negative in and not letting it escape either.

My mom visits Negative Town sometimes. I think that is why it bothers me so much. It bothers me equally when I realize that I've done the exact same effing thing. Argh.

It is easier, it seems, to keep up anger, sarcasm, and derision. For many of us, those are go-to emotions. I don't want it to be mine anymore.

Nor do I want to be PollyAnna. Well, that's simply not possible anyway. I just don't want the dark cloud of bitterness following me around. I prefer just a small whiff of it as I pass.

“One of the lessons of history is that Nothing is often a good thing to do and always a clever thing to say.” ~ Will Durant

At the Movies

I've been watching a lot of movies lately. Mostly, I've been catching up on movies I haven't had time or the attention span to see over the past few years.

I sat through three hours of Benjamin Button. Although Brad Pitt is abnormally gorgeous, I finished it wondering "What was the point of that?" Then I read that it was based on a F. Scott Fitzgerald story. Had I known that, I would have passed. I'm just not a fan.

I finally got to watch "UP". What a great movie. The first fifteen minutes just about killed me. And the dogs. OMG the dogs. Whoever drew & wrote their dialogue are definitely dog owners.

The Proposal. I really enjoyed it. C'mon, Ryan Reynolds for pete's sake. I would watch him recite the alphabet in a white room.

Julie & Julia. I loved this movie! And I really wasn't that interested in watching it. Amy Adams did such a great job. It made me want to cook. I know, right?

Sunshine Cleaning. Emily Blunt is becoming one of my favorite actresses. I found the concept of the cleaning company fascinating. Gross, but fascinating.

Seven Pounds...again, I was left wondering "What was the point?" The perfect example of movies needing to do a little more character development. Also, not a Rosario Dawson fan.

Last Chance Harvey, Dustin Hoffman & Emma Thompson. Sheer perfection.

Rachel Getting Married. I just couldn't sympathize with her. And I love Anne Hathaway usually.

I realize these are older movies. Remember, I'm just getting caught up from the last three years.

I want to see Avatar, just to see what the hype is all about. I just need someone (emphatic nodding in Kevin's general direction) to settle down long enough to watch it. There was a little bit of pouting because I watched The Proposal without him, but then that could have been because Sandra Bullock is nakey in it.

And The Hangover. I loved every single minute of that movie. Am I the only one that finds Ed Helms attractive? missing tooth and all.

Also, there are two things that are bothering me about movies right now. One has been ongoing:

#1 - The mis-marketing of movies. They have to categorize everything and sometimes they just get it wrong. So frustrating.

#2 - When there is a romantic relationship and it finally comes to fruition, I don't care about the girls expression: I want to see the guys face. Romantic comedies are written for women and gay men. We want to see the guy's expression, not her reaction.

Also, to whine just a little, can we please not make every single movie in 3-D? Please? I can't see it so it's wasted on me. And if we're being honest, can we let us mere mortals use our imaginations while watching movies? Must we have everything so defined?

What movies have you loved? What movies have you disliked?

Boys are back in town

There is a roomful of boys in this house right now. Not to sound slutty but I couldn't be happier.

There is something about boys that just makes me happy. I guess it was because I have brothers and grew up in a male dominated world.

But there is just the way they talk to each other. They're brutal. You can't be sensitive with these guys. You have a weakness? you might as well have a target on your shirt. And if you do something stupid? Game Over. They will never let you forget.

They're watching fights right now and suddenly the roof came off the house. Someone hit someone and they fell down.

And these guys are funny. One is someone I went to high school with who is wicked funny. The other is really shy but is funny as hell. My nephew is stretched across the floor. Kevin is holding court in his recliner. The dog? She's in the middle of it all.

Usually fight nights are next door. Their living room is larger. They cook. But the b-i-l had to work so the boys are here. One of our friends brought pizza and I bought chips, dip, and ice cream.

There were plenty of jokes about "It's not like this next door." Somewhere I got the opportunity to say "The bitch don't cook." it was awesome.

How did you spend your Saturday night?