Another Year, Another Award, Another Blog Entry

Mood: Tired (spent the whole weekend w/ the hubs celebrating his 40th birthday...which technically isn't until tomorrow...but who wants to celebrate on a Monday?)

What I'm Watching: NOT the Superbowl (suspect we might be the only ones in the US who aren't)

WoooHooo!! I got another bloggie type award from Natalie over at The Sound of Rain. This one is super cool because, well, just look at it. It's an award for being creative and it's decorated w/ old school writing tools and a flower! What's not to love here, really? As usual I'm super excited about a new piece of shiny blog bling and this one doesn't even come with the usual "embarrass yourself" requirement that seems to accompany so many of these awards so squeeeee!!!

I would have posted about this award sooner but we've been super busy this weekend celebrating the hubs upcoming 40th birthday. Because it was his birthday weekend, we did all the things he likes to do: watching a movie and eating. What can I say? He's really easy to please.

Our weekend at a glance (from my point of view):

The movie. Sherlock Holmes.

We went to see it in an older style theater. Sure, the seats aren't as comfortable as the seats in the newer theaters but it's totally nostalgic. Will soak up the atmosphere, taking note of the period fixtures and the exposed brick walls. But the seats? Still really uncomfortable. Right. But this is for the hubs and he loves this place...will just adjust self a bit. Humph. Hope movie is short.

Bummer, more people coming in and we no longer have theater to ourselves. Oh.My.Goodness. They're crunchers. You know, the people that sit right behind you and crunch on their popcorn like pigs at a trough? Yep, that's them and hell. Now they're going for a refill. Sigh. Adjust self again in an attempt to 1. find better position for aching back and 2. move self away from worst of crunchilicious cacophony.

Oooohhhh! Looky, time for the movie. Preview, preview, preview. Boring, boring, boring. Wonder briefly if Hollywood is completely out of any good original ideas. Try to ignore crunchers behind me. Am doing this for the hubs. Happy for hubs. Hubs is going to be 40. Need to celebrate.

Finally, the movie starts. Sherlock Holmes. I've read some of the stories, this should be decent. Crap. Crunchers? Are also talkers and not interesting talkers...talkers who insist on stating the obvious the entire freaking time. Barely restrain self from killing them w/ their own popcorn and settle instead for a death glare. Death glare does little good.

Movie? Boooorrrriiiinnnnnggggg. I'm sooooo bored. Sooooo bored. Seats? Still uncomfortable. If they were more comfortable, I would take a nap. Looky, an explosion. Maybe Holmes is dead and movie is over. He lived? Crap. Movie not over. Still bored. Still bored. Another death glare to cruncher/talker couple. One more completely obvious comment and I'm going to be forced to resort to the totally called for "no shit Sherlock" response. More explosions...still not dead. Movie still not over.

Wait, wait...movie is...OVER!!! Party in my head. Kiss my arse crunchery talkery people. I'm so outta here!!!

The Food: Red Lobster (the hubs all time favorite...sea food)

Returning to the site of my first major panic attack...the things I do for love. Really. Once a year I take the hubs to Red Lobster and let him order whatever it is that he'd like. He loves lobster, scallops, crab legs, shrimp scampi, etc. I? Prefer turf to the surf so I order steak and lobster tail...give the lobster tail to the hubs and eat my steak and my small portion of mashed potatoes. So, no surprise, I manage to finish eating my small meal far before the hubs manages to finish eating half the ocean that is sitting in front of him (seriously, even the waitress was impressed with the amount of seafood he consumed). Bored and not wanting to interrupt hubs in the midst of his feeding frenzy (by this point his eyes have glazed over and he no longer has the ability to engage in proper conversation), I start eavedropping on the large group at the table next to us.

First, Mr. Pretentiously healthy goes on for nearly 20 minutes on how health conscious he is w/ his food choices. He goes on and on about how he will only eat fish from certain places and won't eat any food w/ preservatives, etc. Which probably would have been far more impressive had he not washed his chicken and rice down with about 6 beers and topped it off w/ a huge slab of cake and ice cream.

Then, Sister Perfection spends 15 minutes explaining with great pride how, when she goes to visit 'brother who was smart enough not to show up for this family shindig' she takes her own linens and towels because he's so very clean that she's sure he prefers it if she brings her own stuff. Uh, okay? Or maybe he's so freaking obsessed about cleaning when you come because you bring your own linens like his aren't good enough for you? Just a thought.

Finally, they finish this all up by taking various family pictures with Aunt Olna (who's approx. 106 years old) and then invite the entire wait staff over to sing happy birthday to her. People, she's 106 years old...she doesn't need to be embarrassed in the middle of freaking Red Lobster!

And no, I didn't have the staff sing to the hubs. For the record, I absolutely loathe the 'happy birthday' singing in restaraunts tradition. Seriously. Loathe.

Finally, the hubs finishes eating his ocean's worth of seafood and we're able to pay the check and leave.

Everything Else:

We also went to the mall and bummed around. Lesson learned: don't buy anything edible from the Dollar Place...it was all outdated. Also? Don't trust the hubs when he says "it's fine" because he then follows it up with "well, it does taste a bit funny, but it's fine." Uh...it's NOT fine if it tastes funny.

We briefly stopped at Barnes and Noble. Lesson learned: not all B&N's are created equal. This one was much smaller than the one I'm used to, had a limited selection and had far creepier people hanging around.

We also had a free night at a nice hotel. It was good to get away but the beds...OY!! My back still isn't talking to me. Seriously, we have the cheapest, crappiests, oldest, hardest mattress on the face of the planet. I never have an issue sleeping on it. Put me in a nice, new, adjustable bed with a fancy memory foam thing going on? And my back totally turns into a pretzel. Lesson learned: I'm supposed to be poor because my body is already adjusted to inferior merchandise. :)

At any rate, we had a decent weekend and the hubs is happy because he's had fun and eaten his favorite foods...that's what really matters, right?

Is It Art? Or is it Just Crap?

Mood: Hopeful (Think I figured out where my writing "jumped the shark" so have ruthlessly chopped 2 well written but out of place chapters and am ready to try to move things in the right direction).

What I'm Watching: Will You Kill For Me: Manson (Yep. More true crime stuff. Is anyone surprised?)

Current Word Count: 4,521 (I know, I've lost thousands of words in the ruthless chopping that took place this weekend. Looking forward to building the total of "useful" words back up again.)

Over the weekend Scott and I went to see "Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs". First, let me assure all of my readers (all 1 of you), this was not my choice. Scott had heard "great" reviews and had been told by some friends (who shall no longer be allowed to recommend so much as a stick of gum) that it was a great movie. Being swayed by peer pressure in the manner of a bad After School Special, Scott decided we just had to go see this movie.

So, we went...and I have this to say: I want my two hours and my $19.00 back (and if I thought I could get payment for pain and suffering, I'd be demanding that as well!). In my opinion, this movie was extremely boring, devoid of any entertainment value and I personally think the CIA should be examining it's potential as a torture device.

Scott? He said it was 'okay'. Not great but he wasn't ready to join me on a drive to California to knock on the doors of the writers and producers and demand that they immediately retire and take jobs as Wal-Mart door greeters.

When I got back from the movie and logged onto Facebook, I saw that one of my dear friends had also been to see the movie that day and she had very good things to say about it. She thought it was "cute" and "entertaining". At first, I began to wonder just when she'd started smoking crack but then I began to ponder the nature of art.

Most of us will acknowledge that art is completely subjective, but we all have definite ideas on what constitutes art and what constitutes, well, crap. In my own hometown we have a set of sculptures in one of our parks. Everyone always raves about how wonderfully innovative these sculptures are. When I look at them, I see an absolutely hideous eyesore. To me, there's nothing appealing, compelling or even redeeming about these pieces of "art".

Does the fact that I don't like them mean that they're not art? That they've got no artistic merit? Probably not. Just like the fact that I didn't like the movie doesn't mean that the people who made it are talentless hacks who should immediately retire from their chosen professions. As a writer I know that there are going to be people who are going to hate my writing...the style, the content, the form and consider it a worthless waste of time just like there are going to be people who will like it, embrace it and acknowledge the artistic effort buried within it.

So, with that in mind, I will try to be a bit more tolerant of the artistic efforts of others...starting tomorrow. Because really? The movie? Sucked so much that it created it's own little black hole in the middle of the theater.