Tonight we decided to skip the club and go to a movie instead. Besides not wanting to battle the crowds, I decided that I didn’t want to aggravate my ankle which has been giving me trouble this whole week. (It turned out to be a good thing we only saw a movie and were away from the house for only a couple of hours. That’s a whole different entry that I’ll write when I’m less angry about what happened. Let’s just say the babysitter didn’t do such a great job tonight.) We saw The Manchurian Candidate which turned out to be pretty good. As we left the building, I happened to overhear some people talking about the movie. Everyone talks about the movie. What made me laugh though, is the kinds of things they were saying about the movie. They were pointing out the most obvious things, as if they had figured out the most amazing connections in the movie.

When we got to the car, I told Rob what I overheard (he doesn’t have the talent for eavesdropping that I do) and we had a really good laugh about it. We started to realize that we’ve been hearing a lot of these kinds of comments lately. I don’t want to say too much about their comments, in case someone wants to see the movie without any spoilers. I can, however, give you some comments we heard during Catwoman since I know you’re all too smart to waste any money on that movie.

I’ve already commented on just how bad Catwoman was. But we were sitting in front of a couple who commentated the movie for our listening pleasure. They were without a doubt the dumbest people to have ever watched a movie. Seriously. During one point in the movie, a woman who suspects Halle Berry’s character has become a Catwoman throws a ball of catnip to her. Her reaction, of course, is that of a cat. The woman’s comment was something along the lines of, “That was catnip. She’s like a cat now.” Um, duh?

During another scene, Catwoman uses her claws to cut through a glass window. The woman’s comments? “She’s using her claws to cut through that glass window.” At one point I wondered if her companion was blind and she needed to explain things to him. They talked through the entire movie like that. I shushed them a few times, but the movie was so awful, and their comments were so amusing, that I eventually stopped shushing and started paying more attention to them.

My sister invited me to go see The Mega 80s with her on Saturday night. I could go on and on about just how great this band is, but unless you’ve seen them yourself, you wouldn’t believe me. I would highly encourage anyone who loves 80s music and is in the southeast Michigan area to go see this band! My husband is good friends with the owner/lead singer, but that in no way makes me biased about just how great they are. It’s an excellent band that just happens to be owned by a friend.

Anyway, so I’ve been invited to go on Saturday night. I’ve even been able to talk my parents into babysitting so Rob can go with us. But, I’m still undecided if I’ll actually end up going or not. As much as I love the band, I really hate the crowds. Actually, I just really hate clubs. Everyone is so pushy. I like a lot of personal space, and club goers aren’t very accommodating that way. I don’t really drink, so I find all those empty or spilled beer bottles extremely annoying. The worst thing is the people who smoke. I can understand that I have to put up with the smoke itself. What I can’t understand is why these people can’t pay better attention to where they’re waving their little fiery sticks of death and flicking their ashes. I always seem to end up paying more attention to the proximity of someone’s cigarette than I do to the band. The older version of the Mega 80s once performed at a public park. We took the twins and had a great time! That would be the ideal location for me. Lots of room, fresh air, none of those obnoxious club couples (get a room please!) and I’d get to bring my boys, who by the way LOVE the lead singer of the band.

So, to go or not to go? That is the question.

I have a stat counter connected to my website that lets me track how many people are looking at my pages. When I first created my site, I knew it was incomplete. The gallery page is probably the funniest one I have. I’m an artist with a blank gallery page. It’s pretty laughable. But I knew the site wouldn’t be getting any traffic for a very long time, so it wasn’t a priority for me to have the site finished before I launched it. My stat counter tells me, however, that people are looking at my pages. Eep! Okay, so maybe it was to be expected. i’ve found a nice little group of blogs that I regularly visit and a lot of them have listed my blog on their site (for which I am very grateful!) But, these blogs have lots of visitors! And those visitors are clicking their links to my blog. Which… is fine. Except my blog links to all my unfinished pages. Which… is not so fine. So here I am feeling like quite the nitwit with a hopelessly incomplete site. Oh, I suppose I could take some digital pictures of my work and post them up there so that the page isn’t empty, but I really hate the thought of my amateur looking photos being used to showcase my work. You see, I’m very proud of my pieces, and I’m afraid my photographs just don’t do them justice. So here I am, stuck.

Consider this my apology to anyone who might have tried to view my gallery only to find nothing again and again. Also, consider this my complete agreement with any of you who think it’s pretty stupid for me to have a gallery page with no pictures.

I realized after my Catwoman review yesterday, that of the movies I’ve seen recently, I’ve only mentioned the ones that I disliked. So, I thought I would come here and set the record straight. There are some summer movies that I like! Let me run down my summer movie list for you. At least as many of the ones I can remember.

Spiderman 2 - I really liked this movie. I wasn’t a big fan of the first one, but this one was different. I tend to enjoy complex characters with complex lives who are forced to make decisions that are neither black nor white, but some shade of grey. I guess I saw that in a lof of the characters in this film. I don’t believe in evil characters. And I don’t believe in good guys without flaws. Spiderman 2 delivered the characters I enjoy.

Harry Potter 3 - I’m a huge fan of fantasy, but I’ve never really gotten into the previous Harry Potter movies. I liked them, but not as much as I expected I would. I did enjoy Harry Potter 3 quite a bit though.

Shrek 2 - I didn’t let my boys see the first one when it first released because they were only three years old (I think) and there were just too many fart jokes. That was back when I used to see all the movies before I’d take them just in case there was inappropriate material. Now that they’re school age, I’m less picky. We saw Shrek 2 as soon as it opened, and we all really loved it.

I, Robot - How did I see this film without mentioning it here in my blog? I loved this movie! I expected it to be a good humans vs. evil robots for world domination plot. Boy, was I happy that it wasn’t. In fact, I’m taking my boys to see it this afternoon. I’m sure they’ll love it too.

King Arthur - Disappointing, but I’ve already talked about that.

Catwoman - Beyond disappointing.

There are a few that I refused to see (Garfield, anyone?), a few that we’re looking forward to seeing, and a few that I plan on taking the boys to see just for them. (I’d rather see Yu-Gi-Oh than Garfield any day.) Right now, we’re off to see I, Robot. Toodles!

We went to see Catwoman on Friday night before dinner. I can sum up the movie in one word. Wow. That’s wow as in, “Wow, this movie is so bad I am speechless.” Okay granted, it’s Catwoman. How good could it be? But I went into the movie knowing this. But this movie surpassed even my lowest expectations for it. There were scenes that were so bad that I cringed in embarrassment for Halle Berry. Story? Awful. Acting? Awful. Dialogue? Awful. It was so bad that I can’t even point out how bad it was. I can however offer a few tidbits of the few things that were good about the movie.

First, it was Halle Berry. She looked darn good, though I preferred her human look over her Catwoman look. Her haircut was cute.

Second, Sharon Stone. I’m not a huge Sharon Stone fan, but she looked great. In fact, I think she looks better now than she did when she was younger. But that’s a blog entry of it’s own.

Third, Halle had this really cute shirt in one scene. I want that shirt.

Fourth, it’s over and I have a new blog entry.

I don’t normally frequent fast food places since a) it’s more expensive than eating at home, and 2) it’s not as healthy as eating at home. But sometimes it happens. Yesterday was one such occasion. I dropped the boys off with my dad and had my physical therapy appointment. By the time I got back, I was starving. My dad suggested I make a run up to the Burger King and he’d spring for lunch. Never one to refuse a free meal, I accepted his money and ran to the local BK. Once there, I was served by a guy who was possibly the most forgetful person I’ve ever experienced at any fast food restaurant.

I pulled up to the drive-thru menu and was asked to wait a moment. Okay, I can wait. There were only two cars up at the window in front of me, but it was no big deal waiting. A very polite guy’s voice came over the speaker, “Sorry about the wait. Can I help you?” Since I’d been sitting there for a bit, I already knew exactly what I was ordering.

“Yes, hi. Can I get two chicken finger Kid’s Meals with milks to drink please?”
“Milk?”
“Yes, milk. You have milk, right?”
“Oh, you just want milk?”
“No, I’d like two chicken finger Kid’s Meals both with milk.”
“Okay.”
“I’d also like two chicken sandwiches, an order of onion rings, and…”
“Wait. I have two chicken finger Kid’s Meals.”
“Right.”
“What do you want to drink with those.”
“Milk.” (stare)
“Oh right, sorry. Go ahead.”
“I also need two chicken sandwiches, an order of onion rings, a medium diet Coke, and a medium Coke.”
“Okay, I have two chicken finger Kid’s Meals with milk, two chicken sandwiches, and what else?”
“An order of onion rings.”
“Okay, anything to drink?”
“Yes, a medium diet Coke and a medium Coke.”
‘Okay, pull around.”

I pull around and pay for my order. He hands me three bags at once and gets my change. I notice I have fries instead of onion rings.

“Here’s your change.”
“Thank you. These were supposed to be onion rings, not fries.”
“Oh sorry about that.” (he fetches the onion rings and leaves)
(he comes back a moment later and asks…)
“Did you need something else?”
“My drinks.”
“Oh sorry.” (he gets my two milks after a bit of searching for them)
(he leaves then comes back a moment later)
“Was there something else?”
“Yes, I have two more drinks.”
“Oh sorry.”
(I then get one drink.)
“I ordered two drinks. Coke and Diet Coke. Which is this?”
“Oh, we’re out of regular Coke. That’s Diet. Is that okay?”
“Yes, but I’d still like my other drink.”
“Oh sorry. What did you want?”
“Sprite. You said this is the Diet, right?” (my mistake; asking only confused him more)
“Right.” (he leaves and returns a moment later; he says…)
“We’re all out of regular Coke. Is there something you want instead.”
“Sprite.” (twitch)
“Oh right. Sorry.”
(he returns with my Sprite)
“Can I get four straws and some napkins too please?”
(he hands me 2 straws)
“Can I get 2 more straws and some napkins please?”
“Oh right, sorry.”
(he hands me 2 more straws)
“And some napkins please?”
(I finally get my napkins)

Round trip driving time between BK and my parents’ home: 15 minutes
Amount of time it took me to drive there, get food and return: 30 minutes

At least he was really friendly.

Isn’t it funny how we parents measure our children’s growth by the little accomplishments? Their first smile, the first time they raise their head, the first time they roll over. As they get older, the accomplishments continue. Climbing the stairs, riding a bike, tying their shoes. Today, one of my boys accomplished another important milestone. Congratulations, Jacob. You blew your first bubble.

I met with a new physical therapist on Wednesday. Back in January I messed up my back by, get this, getting out of bed. I feel pretty stupid telling the doctors and therapists that everytime they ask, but that’s what happened. They don’t believe me, of course. They try to “remind” me what really happened.

“Are you sure you didn’t pull it while lifting something?”
“Maybe you were lifting your kids or something. Do you think that did it?”
“Did you fall?”
“Were you in a car accident?”

No, I got out of bed. They don’t like that answer, but they pretty much give up after I insist it’s the truth. The only possible explanation I have for it is that my back was injured in November, but I wasn’t feeling it until January. You see, in November of 2003, I donated a kidney to my dad. Applause. As much as I’d love to be the big hero here, it was really much less heroic than it sounds. But, back to my back. Obviously, with any abdominal surgery, there’s a lot of pain. And it’s not like a foot or an arm where you can immobilize it for a few days. If you get up, you use your abdomen. If you sit down, you use your abdomen. If you roll over… You get the picture. I put a lot of strain on my back when I was trying to avoid hurting my incisions back then. But the real back pain didn’t start until late January.

I’ve always had a stiff back, but this pain was totally different. In fact, it is probably the greatest pain I’ve ever experienced. Yes, more than my kidney removal and more than childbirth (which, by the way, was a piece of cake.) The pain shot down my right leg everytime I moved. I lived with it for a couple of weeks. Saw my doc after that. He told me ice it. Saw him two weeks later when it wasn’t fixed. That’s when he prescribed the physical therapy.

By the time I was able to get an appointment with the physical therapist, the pain had subsided. Every once in a while I would still get the pain, but it wasn’t the excruciating pain that it was originally. So, we worked on the residual pain and things began to improve. Back pain is a tricky thing. Sometimes one thing will be wrong and your body will compensate for it without causing you pain. But after many years of compensating, something else eventually goes out of whack, and that’s when you start to have the pain. So now we’re working backwards. The pain shooting down my right leg is fixed. Now she’s determined that there’s something going on with my left hip that is likely the cause of this whole mess. So she sent me to someone who is an expert. I guess I was seeing a hobbyist before.

The new physical therapist (George) is confident that he’s found the problem. It’s left-hip related… something about this part not turning enough to allow for some other thing to happen… or something. I don’t care, we’re going to fix it. Unfortunately, I’m expected to do these five stretches twice a day AND ice my back. Uh huh, okay. I have another appointment to see him in two hours, so you’ll have to excuse me while I go stretch.

Sick of politics? A fun political parody for you. If you’re concerned about the content, dont worry. It’s clean enough to play in front of my six year olds.

I’ve always had imaginary friends. I actually had more like whole imaginary worlds. Usually, I played someone different in these worlds, but occassionally I played me. I’ve come to the realization that I still have imaginary friends. I don’t call them that of course because that would be even stranger than having them at my age. Nowadays, I call them characters in my game.

These friends are very different from me, which can make it difficult to work with them sometimes. One character has a much broader vocabulary than I do, and believe me, it’s difficult! They always surprise me, these characters. My family asks me how I’m able to invent these things for them, but I have no answer for that. It’s really like they’re doing it themselves, and I’m just the mechanism by which they are able to live.

My sons have inherited their imaginations from me. Particularly, my Jacob. Since he was very young, probably two-ish, he’s had an imaginary friend. Or as he would say imagin-ARY friend. His friend’s name is Mai-Mai (pronounced may-may… I don’t know if that’s how he spells it as I’ve never actually met Mai-Mai myself.) Mai-Mai used to live in California, but then he moved to Texas. He’s currently in South America. He has a pet saurolophus and a pocket watch that lets him become any age. I kid you not, I suggested none of this to him. Jacob tells Mai-Mai stories the way I tell my characters’ stories. They just flow from him with seemingly little effort.

I tell my boys stories about my characters, and about my imaginary world that I created when I was a child. (I told them the entrance to my magickal world exists in the woods surrounding my parents house. They look for it every time they visit.) They recently asked me if these friends of mine were real. I was afraid to answer that. They are real in a sense. And I didn’t want to crush their dreams at such a young age. (They’re often disappointed when they learn that movies aren’t real. “We can’t be a real Jedi Knight?”) But I told them the truth. I told them that my friends are imaginary. The funny thing is, they didn’t seem at all disappointed.