Thursday, January 07, 2010
Fabina, pictured here, has nothing to do with this post, nor does this horrifying link between fast food sodas and fecal matter, but connectivity doesn't always register in my hyperactive mind, as I flit from topic to topic.
From the opening shot I was gaping in wonderment, an aerial view of exquisite houses, palm trees galore, perched on the cliffs overlooking the Pacific Ocean with sumptuous gardens, although the kitchen garden that appeared later in the movie niggled in my mind. Was it the Santa Barbara weather that allowed tomatoes to grow alongside cole crops?
Her house was staggeringly beautiful, provoking one clever reviewer to liken the expensive Pottery Barn furnishings to middle age porn for women my age. I agree.
Kevin, my favorite brother-in-law, Daniel, Lauren and I went to an early afternoon matinee of It's Complicated and I laughed my rear end off, one scene involving Alex Baldwin and a strategically placed laptop was absolutely hysterical.
I always enjoy stepping away from My Life and it occurred to me, not for the first time either, that obviously the concept of fun is sorely lacking in my life.
Daniel, always a trooper, knowing his mama generally loves these ole lady movies, laughed as much as did I. My niece was less impressed and Kevin felt the need to watch football soon in order to reclaim his man card. Honey, I ain't very girly girly at all, this was too old to be a chick flick, but like Mamma Mia, it so appealed to me. I could sit through it again just for the scenery and the ending that didn't feel contrived, although glorifying adultery is not my thang.
We were home by the time the school bus arrived, back to my reality, time to cook supper.
JoJo and Allen have accidentally torn their bedroom door off the hinges three times in three months, torn it slap in half where it is momentarily residing, propped up by a cedar tree awaiting today's trash haul off, so their door alarm is now dependent upon a purchase of a solid core, more expensive door.
Therefore they were both able to come to my room and shake me awake at 3 a.m. with a preposterous story I certainly fell for, so sleep addled was I. "Mom, there's a giant snake and it's sleeping in the hall, like maybe it caught a big ole field mouse and it's too full to move, " both boys, 12 and 14, bordering on hysteria.
Well, number one, what in the Sam Hill you think I'm a gonna do about it? First unspoken thought, that I drowned out in surprise as I sat up and my mind raced with, 'what the heck?'
I could go over to Grandma's and get Kevin to help me, but he lives in DC, they don't generally encounter snakes other than the senate, congress and other governmental officials, this wildlife doesn't venture into his townhouse, it's likely outside his realm of experience.
I woke up Chuy, Martin and Dubs, after disengaging door alarms, and the six of us searched the house, me wishing I'd had coffee and eventually deciding, you gotta be kidding me. It's January, it's like 18 degrees, and I think JoJo's imaginary reptile was bogus and by then five other sleepy young teens helped me convince JoJo to go back to sleep. Allen apparently had not seen it...just my very unreliable, ding-a-ling JoJo.
I sent everyone to bed, Allen choosing to go sleep with the older guys, JoJo not caring for once if he were alone, and I went upstairs to watch HGTV shows I'd dvr'd knowing it was unlikely then at fourish that I could fall back asleep.
I thought to myself, OK, lemme tell Meryl Streep about complications...although her difficulties were so much more appealing