From Justin To Kelly was a HUGE disappointment. All of you who snickered when I wrote about going, well........you were right. It sucked. I bet you can't guess how many people were in the theatre with me watching the film. Ok, I'll tell you. Just me. One person. Me, no one else. Me and only me. Has this ever happened to you? It was SO creepy.
Justin is actually good in this. He can act. Kelly? Not so much. But she can SANG!! The plot was stupid and contrived and unrealistic and did I say stupid. I think the funniest, most absurd scene was when Justin and the other guy that wanted Kelly fought for her love. They rode these hover crafts and whoever could throw the most balls in the basket of the opponents hovercraft, won Kelly. HAHAHAHA. What?
It's like they didn't even try! They needed a movie for the American Idol stars so they whipped one up in two days? So, so bad. You have to see it to believe it.
This was a movie weekend for me. Ian and I went to see 28 Days Later. Totally awesome. That's all I'll say. You have to go see this. During this film, Ian slipped out to the bathroom. When he came back, he whispered, "Charlie's Angels is playing across the hall at 5:30. So, after this movie ends, we'll go to the bathroom and then sneak into the other theatre."
I was filled with fear and excitement. How fun! Stealing movies! So, we did it and even though I was afraid that some big bouncer was going to pick us out of thousands in the pitch dark as the two who didn't pay, I had so much fun. I laughed so hard. I totally recommend this film. A must see.
On to darker movie related topics. The wonderful Katherine Hepburn died. Rest in peace, Katherine. You will be fondly remembered.
I'm going to see this movie today. I'm going alone because I don't know anyone else that would admit that they want to see it. Maybe everyone, except pre-teen girls, will go in secret. Not telling their friends or family that they really loved the first American Idol show and have a special place in their hearts for Kelly Clarkson. Oh, just me? SO!!
I don't care what you think. (when people say this, it means that they care.....REALLY care what people think.) I guess a more truthful statement would be that I'm going to see this movie with or without your support.
Jeez! I'm so defensive. Maybe I'll just talk about my thoughts and feelings and stop being so concerned about what other people think about that. I'm gonna try that some day.
I think that From Justin To Kelly is going to be funny and pure camp. The dancing, the attempt at acting, the awful songs. I'm just so excited. I'll work on giving a review tomorrow.
If you're at the UA Berkeley showing of this movie at noon today, I'll be the one with the cute toile print sun dress, eating a tub of popcorn and beaming with joy.
When Ian and I decided to go to the Hard Rock Hotel in Vegas to celebrate our 13th wedding anniversary, I started to panic. There is an incredible beach/pool area there where only perfectly tanned, siliconed, tight people hang out. So I did what anyone would do, I ordered a super cute, too expensive, swimsuit on line. I was so excited and checked the progress of the shipment daily.
The suit arrived two days before our trip. I ripped the package open and tugged and pulled the suit onto my body. I looked in the mirror and to my horror, I saw something that I never want to see again. The top fit fine. Super cute. But the bottoms were the horrifying part. They were advertised as bikini bottoms, but in fact, they were boy shorts. But not completely. They were too short for the actual cute boy short look. And the leg openings were a tad tight. So, the only result that could possibly happen, unless you have twigs for legs, is the "spill over." Only it was worse. More like a flesh volcano erupting.
At first I thought, "Ah hell. That sucks. I'll just have to wear my old bikini. That'll be fine. I look fine in that one, anyway." But I couldn't erase the horrible image of the squozed thighs from my mind. I was literally depressed for two days after.
Anyway, I wrote all of that only to get to what happened today when I went to the post office to return the horrible, hateful suit. Here is the conversation I had with the mean postal employee lady:
Me: I'd like to send this regular mail.
Postal Employee: (stoic and monotone) Are there any breakables or hazardous materials in the package, ma'am?
Me: No.
P.E.: (smirking) I hate having to ask that question. I mean, your package is a return to Victoria's Secret. Of course there isn't anything hazardous in there.
Me: Well, it would have been hazardous to my marriage if I hadn't returned it. That's how awful it looked.
P.E.: BAHAHAHAHA
Me: (encouraged by her laughter I made another joke.) And completely hazardous to my self esteem. Know what I'm say'n?
P.E. hahahaha. All right. You have a nice day.
So, something good came out of the hideous, hateful swimsuit experience. In the end it made me AND the meanest postal employee in the world laugh.
We were at my in-laws on Sunday. I was looking through the guest book in the vestibule and I noticed an entry from me.
The date was June 13, 1987. I wrote:
Tracy Brooks (alias: pughie bear) Thanx for letting me recuperate here. Ian is the best medicine in the history of medicines. I'm madly in love with him.
I was so touched by this entry. I mean, that will be 16 years ago this coming Friday. I remember that summer in 1987. Ian and I were newly in love. He was back home for the summer in Connecticut. I was in New Orleans. I broke my ankle playing baseball and couldn't work for a few weeks. I was a waitress. So, Ian paid for me to take the train to Connecticut to stay with him for a week. A 30 hour train ride or something crazy like that.
I'll never forget getting off the train, throwing my crutches and hopping on one leg into Ian's arms. Or leaving and sobbing for the first 15 hours home while other passengers stared with deep concern for the sad little cripple.
Anyway, It's even stranger that I would look at that entry when our 13th wedding anniversary is next Monday June 16, 2003. We are leaving for Vegas on June 13, 2003. Exactly 16 years from the day I wrote that sappy entry in the Miller's guest registry.
_________
Ian,
I still see you with the same love in my heart that I did that day I hopped into your arms back in June of 1987. You are the love of my life. Without you, I wouldn't know what true love is. Thank you and Happy Anniversary, shmoopie.
I keep looking at my page and seeing that sad entry about my Mom and it SUCKS. I'm just going to write anything at all to push that other entry down the page a bit.
ANY
THING
That same crazy ass bird woke me up at 5AM again this morning. I tried to plug my ears to see if I could fall asleep that way. I figured that when I fell asleep my hands would just fall away from my ears naturally and I would sleep like a baby. But the reality was that when I would start to doze off, my hands drifted from my ears and.........CHIRP CHIRP CHIRP. That's what happened.
We might have to put a toy owl or something in the tree to scare crazy loud chirping bird away. Does anyone have any other cruelty-free solutions? Although, scaring an animal is pretty cruel, huh? Ah well, my sanity is at stake. I'm like the Hulk when it comes to sleep deprivation.
I just got off the phone with my Mom and I was struck with sadness. I was telling her a story about a personality issue I'm having here at work. I was explaining how frustrating it is when my Mom said, "Well, you've got to be nice and respectful and make sure you aren't being mean to them." I just went silent and finally said, "Of course, I'm always very kind and loving to everyone I deal with." Even in that moment, I was kind. I added, "That's great advice."
When I hung up the phone I was feeling sad and trying to figure out why. I think it's because by saying that to me it's proof that my Mom obviously doesn't know me. She has no idea who I am. The kind of person I am. The loving and caring human I've turned out to be. The efforts that I take to do the right thing.
Perhaps she's still trying and failing to parent me. I just wish she could see me. I wish she knew me. I feel sad for her. I think she'd really like me.
Last night I dreamt that I was lounging on a grassy knoll and I was hassled by two teenage girls. Each time they passed by me they would step on my leg or kick me. Finally I walked over to them and beat them up. Both of them. Pummeled them.
In the next scene of my dream, a group of teens were touring campus and the same two girls that I had beaten the day before were a part of the group. I sensed that something was wrong so I went to my office and looked in my purse. My wallet was gone. I ran down the hall and confronted the girls. They had my wallet. Then I locked them in a room and kept them there.
I didn't tell anyone they were there. I just held them hostage. The whole time fearing that I could be jailed for doing this. Harming these minors.
That's it. The dream just sort of ended there. What in heck does it mean? I wish no harm on teenagers. I've never been harassed by teens. I've never felt the urge to take teenagers hostage. It's so weird how my mind works while I'm supposed to be comatose.
Monday, June 30, 2003
