I’m pretty sure that every day for me could be considered to be pretty lazy by most people’s standards. Today, however, is full of pure indolence. We thought we’d be out of town, this weekend, so there weren’t any plans made. I woke up late, made The Fiance go get me breakfast and took a nap within two hours of being awake. The Fiance is out boating. I considered going, but then I learned that TCM is running only Cary Grant movies, today. So far, I’ve watched The Awful Truth, half of The Bachelor and the Bobby Soxer (which has one of the funniest screwball comedy scenes toward the end at the nightclub with all the birthdays), Mr. Blandings Builds His Dream House (made in 1948, when a successful Madison Ave. Mr. Blandings earned $15k a year and a dream house on 50 acres in Connecticut cost $18k) and I’m in the middle of Father Goose (one of my very favorites).
To redeem myself, I do have two loads of laundry currently in progress. I have also paid two bills. Much more is probably expecting too much!
Today has been lovely, so far, despite the fact that it started at 3:15, this morning. I hear scoffs of disbelief. ‘Tis true! Fridays are early days in our household; to be at work by 5 am, we must force ourselves out of bed at 3:15, take showers, feed dogs, and drive the 40 miles to our place of employment. Now, I am not required to be at work until 7:15. So, what did I do this morning? I took a nap in the car. That’s right. Out in the parking lot, my car is littered with a pillow and a blanket that I used to catch some more sleep before starting my day a second time. Before this happened, I sent The Boyfriend off to work. He sent me a dirty look.
Another reason that today is lovely is the fact that the local outdoor summer concert series begins, this evening. We plan to saddle up the horse leash the dog and walk down this evening with a soft-side cooler filled with adult beverages, pick our spot on the lawn, grab a pizza from the local pizzeria and enjoy the music and the company of our friends. Hopefully, the dog will behave, once again. We have been taking him on excursions to the softball field – church league softball, yay! – and he does quite well. He’s laid back and enjoys the attention from everyone. There are normally a lot of dogs at the concert series, and he is good about “making friends” with other dogs. He is scared of bigger dogs, though. On our walks, I reassure him with whispers of, “Some day, Guinness. Just you wait!”
The final loveliness of the day is knowing that almost every single member of my family will be together, tomorrow afternoon. We currently stretch around the globe, starting in Japan and finishing eastward in Boston. I think that we will only be missing two of the first cousins and their families.
Here’s an interesting Friday Fact about me – a rundown of the numbers in my family (can you tell that our origins are in Ireland and Catholocism?):
two people (my grandparents) had
nine surviving children (my mom + my aunts and uncles), who had
sixteen grandchildren (me, my sister + our first-cousins), who have had
thirteen great-grandchildren (my nephews + my first cousins, once removed)
Wow. That’s thirty-eight people that entered this world just because my grandfather preferred a Rose over a Daisy. I’m really excited that our family’s newest addition, baby Gabriel, will be around the family for the first time. We can be a bit overwhelming, at times. Let’s hope he likes us!
I love Indiana Jones. I always have. I’ve fought for his honor when others said James Bond was cooler than he. I scoffed at the idea that Indy, with only a whip and a handgun, could kick ass way harder than the icy Bond with all his gadgets. I even liked the crap TV show that NO ONE liked, The Adventures of Young Indiana Jones. It stands to reason that if Harrison Ford in a fedora and leather jacket were to read the phone book with some inflection, I’d rave about its brilliance.
It’s really too bad that the much anticipated fourth installment of the smash hit movie franchise couldn’t live up to that. In fact, if I watched a still image of Indy and a phone book for two hours, it would have been better than the crap I just spent $20 to watch. If you’ve ever watched the movies, you’ll know that there are plenty of scenes not based in reality – the raft out of the airplane scene in Temple of Doom? How about the “Leap of Faith” in The Last Crusade? Totally not believable, but you’re caught up the story and it’s fun and you cut the writers a little slack. After all, legend is part of the hot professor’s charisma, you know? From the very first few action sequences, I knew that this movie was trying to hard to make me believe the unbelievable. I just can’t shake the feeling that no one can be pulled off the back of a motorcycle, then crawl out a car window back onto the motorcycle without the driver completely losing control.
Obviously, I didn’t like the film and could go on and on about the horrible acting, the loose ends that were never tied, and the super shitty un-Indy-like ending. However, I’ll leave you lovely readers with this analogy. We all know about my love of the TV show Friends. The first three Indiana Jones movies rival Friends for my affection. I’d love to know what Rachel and Ross are doing, to know if Chandler and Monica and the twins are doing well in suburbia. At the same time I want to know that, I know that any kind of reunion show would come off like A Very Brady Christmas did – it’s just not right. That’s the feeling of this movie. It was a reunion of some former cast members. Harrison Ford comes off as a pale shadow of the once endearing Docta Jones. Karen Allen is just deplorable. Shia LeBeouf is about as good an actor as he was in Transformers, that is to say, horrible.
Just rewatch the first three and be happy in the knowledge that they are perfect in their wonderfulness. Go on believing that Indy and his dad and Marcus rode off into the Arabian sunset and lived happily ever after – their lives full of adventures that don’t include aliens or human flesh-eating ants. Trust me. Save yourself.
Here’s The Boyfriend’s review: Save yourself some money on this movie. Sit at home, peel back your eyelids, take a spoon and smack yourself right in the pupil. That’s, basically, what this movie is like.
I’ve had some issues with Brad Paisley songs in the past, and I know I’m not alone. However, I keep hearing his “Letter to Me” on the radio, and I like it. Here are the lyrics and here is a video (because Brad Paisley is worth watching – he’s got a cute grin). If you haven’t heard it and are too ornery to read the lyrics, it’s about an adult who thinks about what he would write if he could send a letter back in time to himself at age 17. It’s got some sweet and funny lines, but the PS gets me every single time. I know it’s coming, and every single time I hear it I choke up.
Listening to it, yesterday, on the ride home made me wonder what I would like to tell myself at age 17. In 10 years, what kind of perspective have I gained? Here are some things:
Stop stressing out so much about getting into college. You aren’t conceited about your grades, but you know they are good – you’re going to be valedictorian. If you can’t get into college, who can? Relax and enjoy it.
Take your sister and her friends to lunch, more often. Remember how you always wanted seniors to take you? She does, too, and her friends will think you’re awesome. Be nice and do it.
Have the guts to ask that policeman what he’s implying when he stops you for no good reason other than the person who is riding in the car with you. You know he’s implying something that is racist and just plain wrong. Call him on it. What’s he going to arrest you for? Stand up for yourself and stand up for your boyfriend.
Pay attention to that Valentine candygram you get. It will be important to you, later.
Talk to your dad. You’re right about it, but you should remember that it’s just as hard for him as it is for you.
You aren’t as fat or as ugly or as dorky as you think you are. Trust me on this.
My PS would be exactly the same as Mr. Paisley’s, take out “Rita” and insert “Carol.”
You guys are going to hate that I’ve found a new hobby. I’m going to wear you out with it. On Sunday, The Boyfriend and I took my newly-teenaged cousin on his first kayak trip. We did the same 6-mile run that we did a few weeks, ago. The water was significantly faster and higher, though, since we got quite a bit of rain in the days before. The Boyfriend decided to test his new paddling skills on a stretch of creek known as The Claw. Here it is:
