Beat Up
Do you ever wake up mysteriously sore? Feeling like someone hit you with a bag full of hammers all night? That happened to me this morning and I don’t know why. All we did last night was play a little Guitar Hero.
Maybe I secretly have the flu. Or whatever my kids had last week, but just strung out into various symptoms here and there. Because moms don’t get sick, you know. We don’t have time. Therefore, we spread it out, one symptom at a time.
That must be it.
More Movies
Did y’all see Marie Antoinette? I finally did and have to tell y’all that I loved it. The way people said I was supposed to feel about Lost in Translation? Was the way I felt about this one. (I always fall asleep when Scarlett Johanssen and Bill Murray get on the subway or whatever.) I thought about Marie throughout my commute the next morning.
Maybe I just liked it because I married young, myself, and so sort of identified. Every time I see a movie I liked, I go to Rotten Tomatoes and check out its reviews. Mainly in order to drive myself crazy, I guess, because, invariably, there’s a bad/mean/ignorant review that annoys me. Yesterday I read reviews of Marie Antoinette and saw that a lot of men really hated it. A lot of people, also, were annoyed that Coppola didn’t show the beheadings at the end.
I think it’s weird, that people were thirsty for blood like that. Some people, I think, can’t watch a movie about a woman unless she either a) shows her boobs, or b) gets some kind of comeuppance. And that is weird. And sad. And gross.
Does it seem like I’ve been going into raptures over every movie we’ve seen in the past couple of weeks? I haven’t. Here are movies we’ve seen lately that I didn’t feel compelled to mention at all: Ghostrider, Breakfast on Pluto, Epic Movie, Mozart and the Whale, and Eragon.
Actually, Mozart and the Whale was pretty cool. It’s just like every Meg Ryan movie I’ve ever seen, except that the Meg Ryan character and her boyfriend both have Asperger’s Syndrome. It was funnier than I expected it to be.
A Happy, Happy Morning
My coworker, first thing this morning, is on the phone, totally bitching out a credit card company employee. As far as I can make out from her very loud conversation, she’s pretending she wants to cancel an account for which she never received a number. But, as far as I can intuit, she’s actually hoping that bitching at them will make them increase the limit on said account.
I’m a morning person, but that doesn’t mean that I enjoy getting up at 5:30 to go to work. I hate it, actually. Every single morning, I have to mentally nag myself like crazy in order to roll out of bed. Unless it’s the weekend. On the weekends, I cheerfully wake up at 8:30 AM and run into the shower, where I sing.
So anyhow. I feel like, once I’m dressed and in my car, I’m on a mission to maintain the good morning feelings for as long as possible. I play some nice music and it’s like inertia – my good mood will continue until it’s impeded.
Usually, the impediment shows up right around 8 AM, whether in the form of antique allergens behind our walls or, in this case, a coworker having a very loud, pissy, personal phone conversation right behind my head.
Good morning starshine. The earth says hello, dammit.
Everyone else, please have a very good morning.
