Sunday Sunday
Thank you all so much for commenting on the post below! I was very interested in your responses-- especially the ones which said that I was shy or quiet in public or talked more here. Could it be that (gasp) Don was wrong when he said that everyone thinks of me as loud and coarse? I am really happy to hear that Tom doesn't think I am nearly so addlepated in person (though, I attribute that to the magic, healing effects of highland farm).
Does anyone else think it is funny that both my and Dereck's dads are named Tom? And so, since Tommy was named for my dad, Tom can make that claim also? Tommy always asks me why he was name Thomas when his name is Tommy. No amount of persuasion can convince him that "Tommy" is actually a nickname.
I have been feeling my typical Sunday Afternoon melancholy (which has plagued my dad and I both for years) and I realized: I don't have to go to work tomorrow!!!
Hurray!
It has been a busy little weekend, and even now, I am so desperate for a nap (despite going to bed early and rising late), that I don't know how long I'll post.
Friday, I left work a little early and had Dereck pick up kids and meet me at the movie theater (two blocks from where I work) and we all went to see Elektra.
With all due respect to Charles Taylor, the author of the Salon.com review that I have linked to, I am NOT in love with Jennifer Garner, so I am not going to give her the benefit of having a severely underwritten part. A better actress would have done something more with being on screen for so much of the movie. Now, you know that I adore Jennifer Garner and that I love Alias (third season not withstanding). But it's like she said, "Hmm... I have a wide range in Alias, so in order to be different, I will be as muted and robotic as possible."
Garner had exactly two speeds in this movie: Cold bitch, and in tears. We adore going to the movies and then picking them apart afterward, but I cannot recommend that you spend your money on this. The plot was minimally interesting, there was not nearly enough backstory to justify some of the images and flashbacks-- and we never actually learned anything real about Elektra anyway. I had no idea what she would be up to at the end of the movie-- and I didn't really care if I never found out.
After the movie, we came home and Cheryl, our dog trainer, came over. Cheryl is AMAZING. I said, "Has anyone ever told you you have magical powers with dogs?" And she admitted that people call her the Dog Whisperer. Cheryl is a pretty, petite woman with a loooong blonde ponytail, but she laid our dog out flat and then lay over her and told Goldie sweetly, "I'm sorry, but I always win." And Goldie just adores her. Goldie knows when Cheryl is in the room exactly who the boss is. We learned some good things to do with Goldie, and we have had a good time ever since having Goldie out with us on the floor and working with her. And it has just made the whole dog ownership thing a better experience. Especially to realize that she really is a smart, trainable dog. She stays now without us having to touch her. I never thought I'd see that.
Yesterday, Don and Ellie came over and Don and I went through my template and validated it and fixed all the html errors that we could, and then I made chicken and pepper fajitas for us for dinner. Don called us right after they got home to report that Ellie had several treasures in her pockets, which they returned to us today. Ellie told us, "You lost these last day." It was hilarious. She had some brightly colored stones and some of my rings, including my old wedding ring, which she was very attached to. I actually am not very attached to it, but for some reason, I like knowing where it is, and it would bother me if I lost it (which I know because I lost it for awhile in my last apartment, and it bothered me). Just because the marriage didn't work out doesn' t mean I had anything against my rings, which I picked out.
I asked Dash if he wanted to watch a video last night, but it was DAMN cold, so we just decided to stay in, and I fell asleep with the little guys, only to crawl into our bed at 11:00 and pass out cold.
Tonight we have some shows on, and I wouldn't mind also renting a video, but I have finished one book and started another (and also read People, In Touch, Us Weekly, and Star, loathing myself as I did for poor Jennifer Aniston's sake-- it's like a train wreck. As horrified as I am by my own participation in this media circus, I cannot turn away-- and I have found myself genuinely moved by the pictures of this couple, both approaching and following their break up).
This afternoon, Barbara and her boys came over and we each made our own pizza for lunch (with dough I had made) and then we went bowling. I forgot how much I hate bowling and how much it makes me crabby, but we had a good time in spite of that. I bowled a spectatcularly lousy game, but that is okay. I know Dereck is itching to make me a better bowler-- and I can tolerate his teaching tips when we are playing pool, but not when we are bowling because I really really don't care whether or not I become a better bowler. I don't get crabby because I bowl poorly, and it's not that I dislike bowling because I am bad: I just hate to bowl. Being better at it would not affect that-- it's just not something I like.
Christian has had an orange since Christmas morning that he dubbed his "lucky" orange, and he has been carrying it around and sleeping with it ever since (despite our protests that it was, in fact, turning into a rotten orange).
He wanted to bring it to the bowling alley, for luck. And stupidly, I let him.
Well, even though I told him there to grab it, he made it home without the lucky orange, and Dereck even went back out to the bowling alley, but the Lucky Orange was gone. Christian is weeping in the kitchen, watching Futurama and eating an oreo cookie.
I think he'll live.
What have you been up to this weekend?
Does anyone else think it is funny that both my and Dereck's dads are named Tom? And so, since Tommy was named for my dad, Tom can make that claim also? Tommy always asks me why he was name Thomas when his name is Tommy. No amount of persuasion can convince him that "Tommy" is actually a nickname.
I have been feeling my typical Sunday Afternoon melancholy (which has plagued my dad and I both for years) and I realized: I don't have to go to work tomorrow!!!
Hurray!
It has been a busy little weekend, and even now, I am so desperate for a nap (despite going to bed early and rising late), that I don't know how long I'll post.
Friday, I left work a little early and had Dereck pick up kids and meet me at the movie theater (two blocks from where I work) and we all went to see Elektra.
With all due respect to Charles Taylor, the author of the Salon.com review that I have linked to, I am NOT in love with Jennifer Garner, so I am not going to give her the benefit of having a severely underwritten part. A better actress would have done something more with being on screen for so much of the movie. Now, you know that I adore Jennifer Garner and that I love Alias (third season not withstanding). But it's like she said, "Hmm... I have a wide range in Alias, so in order to be different, I will be as muted and robotic as possible."
Garner had exactly two speeds in this movie: Cold bitch, and in tears. We adore going to the movies and then picking them apart afterward, but I cannot recommend that you spend your money on this. The plot was minimally interesting, there was not nearly enough backstory to justify some of the images and flashbacks-- and we never actually learned anything real about Elektra anyway. I had no idea what she would be up to at the end of the movie-- and I didn't really care if I never found out.
After the movie, we came home and Cheryl, our dog trainer, came over. Cheryl is AMAZING. I said, "Has anyone ever told you you have magical powers with dogs?" And she admitted that people call her the Dog Whisperer. Cheryl is a pretty, petite woman with a loooong blonde ponytail, but she laid our dog out flat and then lay over her and told Goldie sweetly, "I'm sorry, but I always win." And Goldie just adores her. Goldie knows when Cheryl is in the room exactly who the boss is. We learned some good things to do with Goldie, and we have had a good time ever since having Goldie out with us on the floor and working with her. And it has just made the whole dog ownership thing a better experience. Especially to realize that she really is a smart, trainable dog. She stays now without us having to touch her. I never thought I'd see that.
Yesterday, Don and Ellie came over and Don and I went through my template and validated it and fixed all the html errors that we could, and then I made chicken and pepper fajitas for us for dinner. Don called us right after they got home to report that Ellie had several treasures in her pockets, which they returned to us today. Ellie told us, "You lost these last day." It was hilarious. She had some brightly colored stones and some of my rings, including my old wedding ring, which she was very attached to. I actually am not very attached to it, but for some reason, I like knowing where it is, and it would bother me if I lost it (which I know because I lost it for awhile in my last apartment, and it bothered me). Just because the marriage didn't work out doesn' t mean I had anything against my rings, which I picked out.
I asked Dash if he wanted to watch a video last night, but it was DAMN cold, so we just decided to stay in, and I fell asleep with the little guys, only to crawl into our bed at 11:00 and pass out cold.
Tonight we have some shows on, and I wouldn't mind also renting a video, but I have finished one book and started another (and also read People, In Touch, Us Weekly, and Star, loathing myself as I did for poor Jennifer Aniston's sake-- it's like a train wreck. As horrified as I am by my own participation in this media circus, I cannot turn away-- and I have found myself genuinely moved by the pictures of this couple, both approaching and following their break up).
This afternoon, Barbara and her boys came over and we each made our own pizza for lunch (with dough I had made) and then we went bowling. I forgot how much I hate bowling and how much it makes me crabby, but we had a good time in spite of that. I bowled a spectatcularly lousy game, but that is okay. I know Dereck is itching to make me a better bowler-- and I can tolerate his teaching tips when we are playing pool, but not when we are bowling because I really really don't care whether or not I become a better bowler. I don't get crabby because I bowl poorly, and it's not that I dislike bowling because I am bad: I just hate to bowl. Being better at it would not affect that-- it's just not something I like.
Christian has had an orange since Christmas morning that he dubbed his "lucky" orange, and he has been carrying it around and sleeping with it ever since (despite our protests that it was, in fact, turning into a rotten orange).
He wanted to bring it to the bowling alley, for luck. And stupidly, I let him.
Well, even though I told him there to grab it, he made it home without the lucky orange, and Dereck even went back out to the bowling alley, but the Lucky Orange was gone. Christian is weeping in the kitchen, watching Futurama and eating an oreo cookie.
I think he'll live.
What have you been up to this weekend?
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