Movie Review: When In Rome

Another predictable chick flick, but what can I say? I'm addicted. This one stars Kristen Bell as Beth, an art curator who, with a father who's been married multiple times and a boyfriend who recently dumped her, isn't sure she even believes in love. When her sister's wedding takes her to Rome, she meets Nick, played by Josh Duhamel, and they hit it off. Unfortunately, it looks like he's already taken and was just playing her. Beth gets a little drunk and wades in the Fountain of Love. Local lore states that if you drop a coin in the fountain, you will find love. While in the midst of her drunken rant, Beth decides to save a few of the coins from their miserable fate and in doing so she puts a spell on the original owners of the coins so that they fall in love with her.

Back home in NY, Beth starts being stalked by a weird mix of crazies and losers (played by Dax Shepherd, Danny DeVito, Jon Heder and Will Arnett) as well as Nick. Again she really hits it off with Nick until she discovers that all these men are under a spell due to the coins...and one of the coins may belong to Nick. Of course she doesn't want the loonies chasing after her but can she live with herself if Nick is only with her because of a spell? Cue inner soul searching and a mad dash across town to release Nick from the spell, thereby setting him free.

Do we know how everything will end in the first 5 minutes of the movie? Yes. Are we supposed to care that the coins she grabbed all happened to belong to men? No. (Seriously, do that many men really toss coins in a fountain hoping for love? And especially THESE men?) Are we supposed to care that all these men just HAPPEN to live in NY (with the exception of the artist who moved there just for her)? No. But that's the thing about rom coms--you need to keep an eye on the big picture and not fret the details or you lose the fun.

I enjoyed the movie and would watch it again but it won't make it next to my worn out copies of "Ever After" or "You've Got Mail". (***)

The Mystery Box

Going over my checkbook the other day, I noticed a charge that I didn't recognize. It was from a company called The Green Group--pretty generic, right? I asked Hubby and he didn't know what it was from either. Now here is how vigilant we are about credit card or identity theft--instead of reporting it, we just assumed we had bought something while we were at our show in Spokane even though neither of us remembered purchasing anything. (I can see my mother shaking her head at this.)

Honestly, we both forgot about it until I got back from Portland. I received a notice from the post office saying I had missed a package while I was gone. It was from "The Green Group." Before I could remember that charge on my account, my first thought was I was being sent some kind of collection notice or something. Then I noticed that I had missed a "parcel". Well, that's definitely bigger than an envelope and bill collectors wouldn't spend the money to send something bigger (would they?). I checked the box for redelivery and then Hubby and I brainstormed some more on what it could be. Still couldn't come up with anything.

Two days later a box is brought to us. Hubby calls me in to the kitchen. "Should we experience this together?" Uh, yeah. So he cuts through the tape and is about to open it when a thought occurs to me. I stop him from revealing the contents and ask, "What if it's a present for one of us?" It's not unheard of for us to buy each other Christmas gifts at the craft shows to surprise the other with later. We both looked at each other, then looked at the box, temporarily at a loss as to what to do. If one of us did buy the other a gift, we didn't want to ruin the surprise. But we didn't really want to haul the box to a third party just to have them tell us what was inside. So we agreed that if it was a gift, the recipient would just be happy, even if we did spoil the surprise. So Hubby pulled back the flaps and there it was...craft supplies we had ordered from eBay.

Yeah, I know. Totally anticlimactic. But I've still got Christmas to look forward to!

Movie Review: The Book of Eli

Thanks to my friends at Netflix, Hubby and I watched this one last night. Before I get to the review I think I should note that any DVD that doesn't include extras should get an automatic star deduction. Extras are almost as fun as the movie itself--if they're done right.

The Book of Eli is an apocolyptic drama starring Denzel Washington, Mila Kunis and Gary Oldman. Denzel plays Eli, a man who has been wandering the country for 30 years carrying a prized book--which are rare to begin with in these post-war days and even rarer is that it's the lone copy of the Bible. His sole purpose is to literally wander. He figures some day he'll know when he can stop but in 30 years it hasn't happened yet. Along the way he picks up Mila, who tags along initially to escape her life and then because it's the only way she'll survive in such a brutal world. Gary Oldman is a baddy who wants to keep the Bible from being discovered as it might undermine his plans for local (if not farther reaching) control.

Like all post-WWIII movies, this one is filled with stark landscapes, abandoned vehicles, and rag tag survivors dressed in layer upon layer of muted clothing, despite the fact that they all look like they are living in desert conditions. (Think Mad Max, The Road, or even Waterworld.)

In an attempt to distract you from the barely there plot that takes its time revealing itself, the director throws out plenty of gory scenes of violence where appendages are lost while Denzel slices his way through crowds of bad guys, without injury to himself of course. And if that isn't enough to keep your attention, it's a beautifully shot movie. Yes, the colors are muted in that now familiar way that suggests poverty and tragedy, but the shots are impressive.

Even as a big Denzel Washington fan, I wasn't bowled over by this one. It was just too slow for me, nothing much to invest in. For all the good reviews I read about it, I was disappointed. (**)

Happy Birthday to Me!

With my birthday coming up in 4 days, I know you all have been stressing over what to get me. I thought I would make things easier on you and just present you with a short list for you to choose from. That's just the kind of considerate person I am!

1. You can never go wrong with chocolate.
Ok, technically that's not true but it's a good start. Just be sure to avoid dark chocolate, white chocolate or any of those ones with the weird cream fillings. If I get the creams I may eat a few but for the most part I will be left with a box filled with broken-in-half chocolates that no one will eat because they've now been mangled in my attempt to figure out what was in them. You're best to stick with nuts and caramels. That's the good stuff.

2. I could never have too many books.
Forget the worm analogy, I'm more of a book fiend. Especially if it's a tragic memoir, a love story that will leave me sobbing on Hubby's shoulder, anything involving mythological creatures or just trashy romance. And used works just as well as new. I could spend many hours and many more dollars in Half Price Books.

3. Everyone loves a good chick flick.
Maybe not everyone, but they work for me. Especially anything Jane Austen, or something that would play for 6 hours on BBC. If it's a period romance, there's a good chance I'll be hooked.

4. If all else fails, give the gift of peace.
If I had to choose one gift over everything else? It would be time to sit and write. Time to tap away at the keys while purging my brain of all that the voices have been plotting while I've been doing my daily chores. I would ask to be cloistered away somewhere with only my laptop, some peanut M&Ms (my drug of choice) and a hot cup of peppermint tea with no interruptions and...best of all--NO GUILT. I would ask for the freedom to sit and write to my heart's content. No obligations, no cooking (well, no feeding anyone since we all know I never cook), no phone calls and no running errands. Ahhhhh...now THAT would be a gift to remember.

Is this enough to get you started? If not, let me know and I'll send you my categorized and alphabetized Wish List. I just finished color coding it so it's all ready to go! Happy shopping!

Names Have Been Changed to Protect the Innocent

As my kids are getting older, it seems like they get funnier. Our conversations involve things like whether or not babies come from kissing and do I REALLY let Daddy do that thing that makes babies? And while I have no problem embarrassing myself or being for all intents and purposes a complete idiot, I do (on occasion) feel a little bad about exploiting the antics of my children for a cheap laugh. Okay, I really don't feel bad at all but I do worry that they are going to forward their therapy bills to me when they get older as it will all be my fault.

When I first started blogging, I used alias' for my kids in an effort to provide them with a microscopic amount of self-respect. Then I decided that most people who were reading my blog probably knew them anyway so I might as well come clean. I'm finding that I'm swinging back to the other side of the fence again and feel the need to protect their identity. It's probably not necessary since I have approximately two readers of my blog but it's my blog so I'll do what I want! :)

So let me re-introduce you to my beloved children. Howdy is a sweet, freckled 11 year old who is obsessed with Legos and video games and sometimes girls (not that he'll admit it to me). He is also a perfectionist thanks to his Mommy's brutal genes. Bubba is my 10 year old who has a diagnosis of high-functioning Autism. He's a brainiac who likes to negotiate EVERYTHING and has no volume control on his voice. He's also the snuggliest of the 3. Sassy is my 7 year old and the only girl--poor thing. She is a rough and tumble tomboy who loves dressing up all girly but won't hesitate for a second to tell the boys exactly what she thinks. Hubby is my darling spouse of 15 years. I never dreamed that there could be someone so perfect for me and I am thankful that I have him (most of the time). And then there's me. You know me. Probably more than you ever wanted to know if you follow this blog...or even spend 5 minutes with me. I have no filter between my brain and my mouth (or typing fingers) so beware--things tend to get a little personal around here.

Men Are From...?

Wednesdays have become the traditional day for all my dad's friends to come and hang out in his shop. The hot dog griller is fired up and loaded down with "homewreckers" while men of all ages make the weekly pilgrimage bearing their half racks of beer. There is the occasional woman but for the most part it's just the testosterone crowd. If you can't handle drinking, swearing, crudeness and lots of male humor, you might as well skip it.

I stopped in yesterday to wish my daddy a happy birthday and I found myself just observing the group. People watching is one of my favorite things to do and this group was particularly fascinating to me if only because it just emphasized how different men and women are.

Here is what you will find on a Wednesday. Men of all ages, shapes and economic backgrounds are standing around the shop, brought together by a shared love of cars, beer, and my dad's warm friendship. While there are a few stools, most of the men stand around, beer can in hand, and visit with the guy standing closest to them. They may not know each other's names, may never see each other outside my dad's shop, but they can find plenty to talk about for the 2 or 3 hours that they are there. It's rarely personal, consisting of car stories, work stories and woman stories. After hours of talking and laughing and having a good time, they head home to their wives, girlfriends, or mothers, some not even knowing the names of the men they had such a good time with.

Now let's imagine the scenario with women. First of all, women would never get together in a shop. They'd find somewhere with chairs and sofas so everyone could be comfy. They may have drinks and food as well, but everyone would take off their coats, be introduced and the hostess would make sure everyone was comfortable before offering everyone their choice of beverages, coffee or tea. They may start the evening not knowing each other but by the time they head home, they know everyone's names, their kids' and husbands' names, their birthing stories, the little quirks their spouses do to drive them crazy (in both good ways and bad) and their favorite movies, foods and hobbies. In the space of a few hours, women will open up with each other and share things that would make men cringe to even contemplate.

I'm not saying one way is better than the other. I've been in the groups with women where far too much was shared but I've also been there when we laughed so hard we cried. I've been among men and heard them gripe about their wives but I've also seen them rally together to help out a friend. No group is better, just different. Those differences are what bring us together and yet also cause so many problems. While it would be nice to see men opening themselves up to their friends, do we really want to hear them comparing stories about passing that kidney stone or what happened at their last prostate exam?

Guilt, My Old Friend

It's been so long since I've blogged, I'm not even sure where to begin. I don't mean to go so long between blogs but it seems like I blink and another month has slipped through my fingers. However, my brain is constantly working, drafting blogs, stories and general observances about life. As I've said before, the voices in my head never shut up long enough for me to have any peace.

Then again, there is the matter of the guilt that likes to take up residence in my soul. My life is one big errand or project after another and if I actually have five minutes to sit at the computer, it should be spent doing something productive, not something fun and satisfying such as blogging or working on another one of my "books" (in quotations because other than the first, they are all just works in progress).

My main problem is that I'm just not disciplined enough to get up early and schedule that "me" time. I'd rather sleep. I'm tired all the time and it's hard to give up on a few extra z's. Yes, I have a rather hectic life (which I find amusing because we don't actually DO anything) but I also take medication that causes fatigue. I counteract it the best I can with vitamins and a very precise schedule of when I take it but I'm still tired most of the day. At any given point in any day, I could lay down and sleep for 2 hours...and still go back to bed and sleep just fine at night. Some days I have to take a nap because I physically can't keep my eyelids open or I can't get my eyeballs to both focus on the same thing.

And there is always so much to do. I've neglected my Facebook life for almost 2 weeks now and haven't been watching a lot of TV--in fact, I hardly ever watch it at all anymore. But I find myself starting to resent bedtime because it means that I have to stop whatever it is I'm working on or put off for another day what I WANT to be working on. It's that "there's never enough hours in the day" dilemma. But I am honest enough with myself to admit that more hours would just mean more time to do errands or other such things that make me feel like I'm being productive as opposed to selfish.

Guilt and laziness plague me as you would know if you are a regular reader of my blog. I try to be absolutely honest with myself when I do blog and I have accepted my faults and weaknesses. So why is it so hard to confront them and change things? It would be as simple as waking up an hour earlier so I could have some time to write but no matter how much my soul screams out to do just that, my body won't comply.

Why are the simplest solutions the hardest?