Insomniac Movie Review: Bad News Bears (the remake)

Bad News Bears, starring Billy Bob Thornton (the drunken coach), with Greg Kinnear (the jerk coach who cares more about winning than about including everyone or even rewarding kids for all their hard work with some acknowledgement) and Academy Award winner(!) Marcia Gay Harden (who plays the character that gets under your skin the most and clearly has no clue what is going on in the rest of the movie).

MPAA Rating: PG-13, and they aren't kidding about it, either

I'll be very honest with you.

It was funny. I won't deny that I laughed at it, in spite of (or because of) the fact that dead rats and possums were involved. But really, there are some things that just should not be encouraged. And letting a bunch of 12-year-old kids call each other and the adults around them "dickweed" and "assface" is one of those things.

This movie is designed to appeal to pubescent, smartalec boys, and to whatever demographic it is that pays money to see movies about children participating in team sports while compensating for inadequacy by swearing and fighting before they get around to actually practicing what it is they were so bad at in the first place. I don't know what that demographic is, exactly, but I suspect it is the parents of the pubescent, smartalec boys, who have to shlep their kids to the movie theater or video store. And, um, me. Because the trailer looked funny, but it didn't include the word "bitches." I was tricked, I tell you! I thought it was going to be a good family movie. My mistake, I realize, but I don't remember the original having quite this many curse words.

For this reason, I suggest that you not let your kids under 12 watch this movie. I also think my 14-year-old sis-in-law doesn't need to see this, since she's mouthy enough as it is, but it's not like this movie will teach her any new cuss words that she hasn't already learned in school. (Your taxes at work, folks.)

The rest of this is spoilery, so don't read if you don't want to be spoiled!

I also do not recommend it for under-12s because there are some women showing off serious cleavage. And because the coach sleeps with a player's mom (they don't show it, but they show the conversation that leads up to it, and the coach trying to sneak out the morning after). And you really don't want to explain that to your nine-year-old, why you're laughing when the Toby catches Coach leaving the house and Coach has to make up some excuse. You probably don't want to explain it to your 12-year-old, either, but you probably won't have to, since by that age they've already seen the fifth-grade movie and stolen Dad's dirty magazines that Mom didn't even know about, so they kind of already know what's going on.

So, yeah. Cussing. Cleavage. Drinking. Little League Baseball. Perfect for your teenage kids.

Drama, and why it's not all it's cracked up to be

You know how all the movies that were nominated for Best Picture Oscars this year were these big social or political dramas? And all the "best shows" on TV are things like The O.C. and Gilmore Girls and their various knock-offs? Yeah, well as exciting as it is to watch dramas at the theater or on TV, it sure as hell sucks when the drama starts knocking on your door. Or, as in my case, calling you endlessly on the phone.

Without going into too many private details, I will tell you that this drama comes to me courtesy of my in-laws and their inability to get along and/or agree on how to discipline Bizarro Dad's youngest sibling, 14-year-old N. Apparently my mother-in-law cannot even bring herself to correct this child when she mouths off to people, let alone remember that the girl is supposed to be grounded already and is therefore not allowed to do certain things, go certain places, or visit a certain boyfriend at his home. There's more to it, but basically the problem is compounded by the fact that all of these people live together on the same property, which belongs to the oldest sibling, E, and her husband. So that's E and her husband, N, my mother-in-law, my brother-in-law J, and E's two kids (both younger than N).

The petty and not-so-petty arguments have been ongoing for years now, and E has finally had enough. She called me last night to talk. She asked me for my opinion about the situation with her mother and other siblings. I made the mistake of giving it to her. This, I can see, is where I went wrong, because it got my husband and me involved in the argument on a level we had previously been avoiding. There are other factors here which I will not go into detail about, but which do explain why E would call me in the first place, and why she felt we had the right to know what was going on.

So anyway, the call came it at around nine-ish, I guess. About 90 million phone calls later, and there was total upheaval at E's house, and suddenly my mother-in-law decided she is taking N and moving in with N's best friend's family (yeah, because they want to be in the middle of this s***), and my husband had stayed up until 1 AM trying to sort this out and hear everyone's side of the story and figure out who is lying, when really he should have been in bed hours before because he needed to be at work at 3:30 AM.

For a few hours there it looked like we might even have N move in with us, but apparently neither she nor her mother feel comfortable with this arrangement. It seems that my mother-in-law doesn't want me (or anyone, I guess, including her own self) telling her 14-year-old daughter what to do, or how to act, or to stop speaking disrepectfully, or whatever it is that she thinks I'm going to tell a child who is living under my roof.

You know what? I have too much other stuff going on in my life without my in-laws adding to it. I don't blame E at all, because God knows she's put up with a whole world of problems on her mom's account already, and it's taking a toll on her health, her education, and most of all her marriage. I can say this here, I guess: I am inclined to believe E's side of the story. We have all caught her mother in too many lies over the years. My husband maintains that we have no way to verify the truth of all the he said/she said that is going on over there. "Well my husband said that J said that Mom said..." How is anyone supposed to sort that out? He has a point. Short of spending every waking moment at E's, we have no way to discern for ourselves what actually happened.

Now that we've gotten involved, my husband is all kinds of upset. He wants to help, but he doesn't want to take sides. And since his mother has taken the position of not-wanting-her-kid-under-my-roof, and N has taken a similar position (as far as we know), Bizarro Dad says he is not going to force that child to stay here and then have her run away and get knocked up or something.

So I guess after all that, we're just...not doing anything. I WANT to do something, but I can't help N if she won't let me. We can't afford a lawyer for a custody battle, and nobody wants to put N through that anyway.

See, this drama stuff? Entertaining when it's happening onscreen. Sucks major a$$ when it's happening all around you.

The unexpected benefits of Frank Sinatra

My brother-in-law, J, has recently moved to Houston (as I believe I've mentioned not too long ago). He, like my husband, served in the Marine Corps for a number of years. Unlike my husband, he was sent to Iraq and Afghanistan (if memory serves). He was, in point of fact, a tank driver.

I think you can imagine what it was he had to do. What I still cannot imagine are all the terrible things he saw, including holding his dying lieutenant in his arms and screaming for help that never came. I pray for my brother-in-law, who escaped death so many times, that he might recover from his nightmare.

Bizarro Dad learned this weekend, when he and his brother went paintballing (yeah, I caved on the paintball gun, because I love my man, and because we got our income tax return), that his little brother now has a strange affinity for Frank Sinatra.

Understand: J is the same age as my little brother, 24. My brother the professional rapper. Yeah, I know not all people in the same generation like the same genre of music, but I think I can safely say that most guys in this particular generation are not big Sinatra fans. J certainly wasn't before he left for boot camp. But he is now.

Apparently, when the guys were in the tank, three of them crowded into a tiny space, shooting the hell out of whoever was shooting at them, the stress was so great that the gunny (Gunnery Sergeant) had to do whatever was necessary to keep the men calm.

So he made them listen to Sinatra. While firing.

Evidently it had a very calming effect, and the men were able to concentrate on doing their job and not getting killed. I guess it worked for J, since he's home safe now.

And he also has one or two Sinatra CDs in his car. It keeps him calm, he says.

I wonder: does he need to be kept calm because he's driving and doesn't want a flashback, or does he need to be kept calm right before a paintball game so that he doesn't flip out and start really trying to hurt people?

Either way, as horrified as I was by the story, I am all for giving J another Sinatra CD as a gift, so that he can have more song options to keep himself as close to tranquil as possible. He's living with his sister for now, and she has two children at home. Soon he'll get an apartment and bring his son to live with him. I'm thinking that Sinatra might prove to be crucial to his sanity.

Survey shmurvey

Taken from Nilo the Great, who took it from someone else, who is part of the continuous cycle of surveys that float around this thing we call the internet.

1.Have you ever been searched by the cops?
No.

2. Do you close your eyes on roller coasters?
I don't ride roller coasters. But when I was younger and did ride them, I only closed my eyes when there was dirt in them, or if there was water involved.

3. When was the last time you went sleigh riding?
We don't have sleighs on the Gulf Coast. Nor do we have snow.

4. Would you rather sleep with someone else, or alone?
I'd rather sleep with my husband, and only him. Lately, however, the four-year-old has been in our bed, and this is something I can do without.

5. Do you believe in ghosts?
Yes, but I prefer to call them spirits.

6. Do you consider yourself creative?
Yes.

7. Do you think O.J. killed his wife?
Duh. Of course he did.

8. Jennifer Aniston or Angelina Jolie?
I'm not sure where this question is going, since I'm straight, but I'm going to say Angelina Jolie, since she has range, and because she uses her celebrity status to promote good causes and not to mitch and bone about how she's been done wrong by a man.

9. Can you honestly say you know anything about politics?
Just enough to know that politics is really about one thing: power.

10. Do you know how to play poker?
Learned how at the age of seven. Gambling was a family tradition! My great-grandmother was a gambler. However, while I may know the rules of the game, I am not any good at poker, and I personally don't gamble.

11. Have you ever been awake for 48 hours straight?
I'm sure I have. It was probably in high school, when I was studying my butt off.

12. Do you kill bugs that are in the house?
If it's a roach, I scream until my husband comes to kill it. If it's a cricket, I catch it and release it outside (maybe even feed it to a frog), because my mother always said it's bad to kill a cricket in your house. If it's a spider, I either squish it or let it run away, unless it's a really BIG spider, in which case I scream again.

13. Have you ever cheated on a test?
Yes, in high school, but not with a cheat sheet. My eyes wandered. I hate that I did that.

14. If you're driving in the middle of the night, and no one is around, do you go through red lights?
In this town, there is always someone around, even in the middle of the night. But if I'm in a scary neighborhood and I see some scary people approaching, then yeah, I would probably run the red light, but cautiously.

15. Do you have a secret that no one knows but you?
Doesn't everybody?

16. Boston Red Sox or New York Yankees?
Houston Astros!

17. Have you ever ice skated?
Yes. Once. Never again.

18. How often do you remember your dreams?
Sometimes.

19. When was the last time you laughed so hard you were crying?
A few months ago. I think a movie cracked me up. Or maybe I was watching House?

20. Can you name 5 songs by The Beatles?
Strawberry Field, Yellow Submarine, She Loves You, Yesterday, Penny Lane

21. Do you believe in love at first sight?
Not for me, no. I don't deny that it can happen for others, though.

22. Do you know who BaBa Booey is?
What kind of stupid question is this? Is this supposed to gauge how old I am or something?

23. Do you always wear your seat belt?
Damn skippy I do.

24. What talent do you wish you had?
To run and not be weary.

25. Do you like Sushi?
Only the California rolls.

26. Have you ever narrowly avoided a fatal accident?
More than once.

27. What do you wear to bed?
If it's hot, just a few light clothes. If it's cold, sweats. If it doesn't matter because I'm too exhausted to care, I sleep in whatever I was wearing that day.

28. Have you ever been caught stealing?
Never.

29. Does size matter?
Sure it does, if you're trying to reach a burned out lightbulb on the ceiling, or move a large piece of furniture through a small door, or make sure you have enough chicken in the freezer to feed a family of six.

30. Do you truly hate anyone?
If I could hate anyone, there is one person in particular who I'd hate. If I ever saw him again, I don't know what I'd do, exactly. Maybe I'd have enough restraint to just turn my back on him and walk away without speaking. Or maybe I'd slap him. I don't really know, to tell you the truth. I don't know how I could ever express to him how he wounded me. Maybe I'd just ask him how he feels about having a millstone tied to his neck while being cast into the sea.

31. Rock and Roll or Rap?
Rock and Roll for me, but I'd always keep a special place in my heart for my brother's rap.

32. Do you have a relative in prison?
I have over a hundred cousins on my dad's side alone. Odds are I do have a relative in prison.

33. Have you ever sung in front of the mirror like your favorite singer?
Yes.

34. Do you know how to play chess?
Know the rules, know how the pieces move, but other than that I'm not any better at chess than I am at poker.

35. What food do you find disgusting?
There's a whole section over at The Sneeze called "Steve! Don't Eat It!" Now that is some disgusting stuff. Other than that, I am disgusted by pretty much all pickled pig products.

36. Did you ever play, "I'll show you mine, if you show me yours?"
No way!

37. Have you ever made fun of your friends behind their back?
I've done it to their faces. As they have done to me.

38. Have you ever stood up for someone you hardly knew?
To tell you the truth, I don't remember.

39. Have you ever been punched in the face?
No.

40. When is the last time you threw up from drinking too much?
Never.

41. Have you ever walked out on a movie at the theater?
No, but there's one I wish I had walked out on.

42. Do you ever sit through a bad movie, just to see how bad it got?
If it's that bad, then I just stop watching and put something else on. (For example, Christmas with the Kranks. Terrible. I couldn't bring myself to finish it.)

43. Would you consider yourself obsessed with anything/anyone?
Books. Definitely books.

44. Have you ever met someone famous?
I met John Bytheway once. Also, a congressman. That's about the extent of my experience with meeting famous people.

45. Have you ever been stood up?
Yes. On my birthday. By the guy who was supposed to be my best friend. Thank you very much for reminding me.

46. When's the last time you screamed at the top of your lungs?
Four years ago. Those were some mean baby blues.

47. Did you ever do something that you didn't want to, but did anyway just to fit in?
Yeah. I went to some large social gatherings because my friends were going. Truth be told, I cannot stand large groups of strange people. It makes me very nervous and sick.

Post-Oscar Post

Let's just come right out and say it.

The following people were sexy:

• George Clooney
• Heath Ledger
• Michelle Williams
• Salma Hayek
• Jake Gyllenhaal
• Jennifer Garner
• Rachel Weisz (yeah, I said it! Pregnant women are sexy and kick ass!)
• Nicole Kidman
• Jon Stewart (I think the grey hair is sexy)

The following people whould rethink their wardrobe:

• Charlize Theron
• Dolly Parton (she's actually quite pretty, but that white suit she performed in just made her look strange)
• Three 6 Mafia
• Ben Stiller

The following people need to shut the hell up:

• Joan Rivers
• I was going to think of more people here, but... Joan Rivers.

The following people get bonus points:

• Dolly Parton, for telling Joan Rivers, "Well, are yours real?" Yeah! Stick it to her, Dolly!
• Jon Stewart, for pulling off a difficult hosting job with grace, and for making fun of all the montages
• The Wallace and Gromit guys, for bringing matching bow-ties for their Oscars
• George Clooney, for that acceptance speech
• Reese Witherspoon, for thanking her parents in full, and not in passing
• The Academy, for not letting one movie sweep the whole thing

Ow. And hee! And ew.

So yesterday I'm trying to clean the living room, which isn't going so well since I'm still all congested and the kids are all screamy and the husband's all "You got me sick, so I'm going to play Guild Wars, which is what I do when I'm well, too."

Congestion is perhaps my least favorite part of being sick. It's just gross, is what it is! It gets all up in my ears, and I can hear it mucking around in there. It finds its way into my sinus cavities, causing everything from teary eyes to monster headaches to ridiculous toothaches. Stuffy nose makes it difficult to sleep and breath at the same time. And it's impossible to be attractive when I'm runny-nosed. Just...NO!

So anyway, yesterday as I'm trying to clear away the baby's food tray and whatnot, I realize that I need to blow my nose. Ick. So I grab the nearest fast-food napkin from the table and pause to take care of business.

Evidently, there is a reason that old episode of Sesame Street warned me not to blow too hard. But no, I had to be all superior at five years old and say that Sesame Street didn't know what it was talking about, and then carry forth this brazen disregard into adulthood. I should have just listened to the stupid cartoon, or at least sat down first.

I fainted, people.

Yeah. Fainted. I know. It was embarassing, or it would have been if I'd been conscious. I collapsed sideways onto the rug, my body making sure to hit its head on the hard floor instead of twisting about four more inches to the right and letting the recliner break my fall. Yeah, fun.

So my question: why did I faint?

My only clues are a) that when I blew my nose, it felt like something wet flew out of my left ear (gross) and b) when I sat down and performed the Valsalva maneuver, I had a similar feeling of wet stuff flying out of my ear, and then a similar feeling of the room going all swimmy and dark. Good thing I was sitting down that time.

So now we have a new house rule: I'm not allowed to blow my nose while standing up. This is an addition to the previous rule, which states that my husband is not allowed to sneeze while sitting in the computer chair with his feet propped up higher than his waist (long, painful story).

In the meantime, I'm trying to get some rest and not drive anywhere. I think I got a mild concussion or something, because I'm still having pain and dizziness today. (Not to mention congestion.)

The coming of the storm

Bizarro Dad's brother is finally moving back to Houston after 4 years in the Marine Corps. For the first time in almost six years, my husband and his brother will be living in the same city again.

I quiver with fear.

Not because my brother-in-law is a bad guy or anything. But because I fear the kinds of crazy that will come upon my husband, having his little brother around. My man's already begging me to let him buy a paintball gun so the two of them can go shoot the crap out of each other. Which is fine and all, but they don't wear any protective gear besides a helmet. And I would not put it past my brother-in-law to shoot someone in the sac, whether accidentally or "accidentally."

I would like to try for a boy some time in the next three years, but how am I supposed to do that if my husband is rendered infertile by an errant blue-paint-filled marble?

**********
Kids are doing better, recovering slowly. Baby Sia gave me a scare this morning with some seriously bad coughing, but she's not getting fever every two or three hours anymore, so that's an improvement. I just wish her congestion would stop already. It's getting seriously gross.

Quick update

Thank you for the well wishes and good thoughts. We sure do need 'em! The older one is recovering well, but now the younger one is sick, and she's not doing well at all. I'm pinning my hopes on God and antibiotics. All prayers are appreciated.

Viewer recommendations:

1. Jakers: The Adventures of Piggley Winks. Shown daily on PBS. Funny and entertaining, especially if you (by which I mean "your kids") like accents and storytelling.
2. America's Test Kitchens. Also a PBS weekday show. Covers both basic and complex recipes, as well as general food education Two bonuses: usually has a segment on kitchen equipment (testinging all brands and prices of, say, baking dishes, and finding out that the $9 Pyrex is better than the $95 thing with grooves on the bottom) and another segment on comparative testing of prepackaged food products (who knew that of all the boxes of brownie mix, only Ghirardeli actually tastes like chocolate?).

Brief announcement

I see your briefs!

I'll be on hiatus for the week while I tend to a very sick child. In the meantime, here's a recommendation for you.

Firefly Season 1 DVDs
So far I've only seen disk one, but I anxiously await the rest. Let us all bask in the glory that is Firefly. This show is AWESOME. Pay special attention to the commentary; lots of great insider info (who knew David Boreanaz is frightened of live chickens?) and commentator hijinks. Love it. Go rent it, or buy it, or borrow it from the sci-fi lover down the street. Great great stuff. We're talking better than Alias, people, and that was my favorite show of all time (at least until the end of season 2).

See you next week!

Insomniac Movie Review: Zathura

Title: Zathura
Plot: Jumanji, only in space, and with different kids who fight more

Let me start by saying that I really do love children, and I would never harm a child.

But the kids in this movie? I just wanted to throttle every single one of them. Yes, even the little one who was all cute and cuddly and "innocent and wronged."

Why? How could a movie make me so infuriated that I wanted to reach through the screen and shake the crap out of innocent children?

Well...I suppose because the kids spent too much time fighting and bickering about stupid stuff instead of doing what the heck they knew they needed to do. I mean, seriously, Youngest Child, how many times do you need it repeated to you that if you don't take your turn and finish the game, the Vorgons will chase you forever, you'll run out of food, and you'll never see your mom or dad again? How many times!? Turn the stupid key and push the damn button already!

And Older Brother. You, just like your brother said, are a d***. Yeah, that's right, I said it. You're a selfish brat and I don't like you. Well, I suppose you redeem yourself as the movie comes to a close, but that's to be expected. Screenwriters have to do that nowadays. But still. You're a jerk. Also: when a turn has ended and you find yourself having to run for it, grab the freaking game and take it with you when you leave the room! You know you're going to need it. That movie would seriously have been 20 minutes mercifully shorter if it weren't for all the "Wait-a-minute-where-did-we-leave-the-game-oh-no-it's-in-another-room-we-have-to-get-it-but-there-are-flesh-eating-aliens-in-there."

Let's not forget Older Sister. Dear stupid irresponsible dumba$$ Older Sister. Your dad leaves you in charge of two young children, and you just pull up the covers and stay in your room? Who do you think you are, their mother? No, honey. You are the babysitter. For better or worse, you are in charge of two squabbling children who have a habit of inflicting insults and psychological torture on each other. Get your lazy assets out of bed and supervise. Or at least, if you can't be bothered to get out of bed, leave the headphones off so that you can hear things like screams of terror, or a smoke alarm, or the whole house launching into space, NOT TO MENTION BEING CHASED, FIRED UPON, AND BOARDED BY ALIENS. Seriously, some people need to grow some brains before being placed in charge of kids.

Okay, now that I'm done with that, to the questions:

Was the movie any good? If you liked Jumanji, or if you thought it would be better if it took place in space, you'd probably like Zathura. I will admit to liking some parts of this film. I can't recall what those parts were at the moment, as I've been suffering from a migraine for the past three or four days, but I do remember a feeling of satisfaction once the movie was over. Wait, maybe I was just glad it was finally over. Well, I'm not risking another migraine to find out.

Should you watch it? It's kind of fun to watch with your kids, if you don't mind letting them watch explosions (no guns, just stuff blowing up). But if you don't have young 'uns around to enjoy it, thereby helping you enjoy it? Yeah, not so much. It's mostly infuriating.

Big Big World musings, continued

More of my dad's thoughts on that dear little puppet, Snook, of Big Big World.

Dad: Is that thing supposed to be some kind of hippie?
Me: Hippie? What?
Dad: Well, he's got long hair, and he talks all, "Heyyyy, mannnnn."
Me: Well, he's a sloth, Dad.


Yeah. First it's John Denver, now it's a hippie. Any day now we'll move into David Lee Roth. Or Kenny G. Oh, I know! How about John Lennon! You know, once he was on wacky tabacky. No, wait. That's the hippie category. Well, I'm sure good old Dad will come up with something fun.

Ew

Great, now I'm in the vomit circus. Thanks, Nilo.

Just kidding. I know it's simple coincidence that my four-year-old started throwing up (in my bed) at 1:30 this morning, just like Nilo's daughter, only not as bad. In reality, I blame my mother's cat.

Yeah, that's right. Her cat. See, Gina slept over at Grandma's house Tuesday night, and came home wrapped in a blanket from Grandma's bed. Grandma's cat lives in Grandma's bedroom, since Granny and PoPo (my grandparents) cannot stand Cat. So Cat spends a lot of time lounging around on Grandma's bed. You can just imagine the pet dander, I'm sure.

Now, to be fair, neither Gina nor Sia have ever exhibited the slightest case of pet allergies. We had TWO cats back in NC, before they went all anti-kid and started attacking the children. Only Bizarro Dad showed traces of allergies (white gunk in the eyes), but we thought it was just the Carolina air. Carolina brings out allergies in people who never had them before, especially with all the dogwood trees. It has, in fact, been rated as the number one allergy state. And since the hubby had not shown any cat allergies ever before in his life (not even when we were first married in Texas, and I had a different cat), I had no idea it was even a cat issue.

Until last night.

Gina spent most of the evening wrapped in the blanket from Grandma's house. After a while, I started to notice white gunk in her eyes, but I didn't connect it to the blanket. She's been sick for weeks, so I thought it was just more of her cold. Then I put her to bed with me (with that blanket). She tossed and turned and told me her eyes hurt and that she wanted to throw up. I take her to the bathroom. Nothing happens but some spit. I look at her eyes. WAY more gunk. I think. I sniff the blanket. Jackpot. Take the blanket away.

However, since the blanket was in my bed for a while, enough of that stuff got into the sheets. Apparently it also got on the couch and on Granny's quilt, too. Puffy eyes the whole night. 1:30 AM vomit (mostly mucus), accompanied by severe crying and lots of eye gunk. And this morning? Gina's eyes were stuck shut. She kept trying to open them, but the eyelashes were not cooperating. I had to use wet Kleenex on her little eyes and spend a good ten minutes trying to carefully get the dried gunk out so she could see the world again. That blanket is outta here!

So, to conclude: Mom, wash your blankets, and vacuum your cat once in a while. I'm going to see if they make children's Alavert. And Nilo, I'm glad your daughter is feeling better today. The kids and I have been keeping her in our prayers.

Valentine surprises

This one was from my dad. I adore this kind of candy. (It's the hazelnuts. And the chocolate. Mmmm...chocccccolattttttte...haaaaaaazelnuuuuuuts.)

This is an approximate picture of one of the gifts from my husband, Bizarro Dad. I say approximate because for some reason Google Images won't give me the correct picture of the Lavender Joy Garden available on 1800flowers.com.

This space is left blank, to be replaced by whatever else it is Bizarro Dad got for me, which should be delivered today. He told me he got more than one thing. Even though I told him not to get me ANYTHING. He's so sweet and thoughtful. and the bulb garden really is something I love. I even managed to refrain from telling him, "Honey, the reason we agreed not to get Valentine's gifts was so we could save a little money for our anniversary next month, but now you have not only spent all the money in your monthly allowance, but mine too. Oh, I know, you think you've not done that, because you used the credit card (against explicit orders, no less). But you see, now I have to repeat my lecture about how credit cards work, and how much interest we're paying on your card alone. But I guess it doesn't matter. We can just not celebrate our anniversary."

Yeah, I didn't say any of that, because I didn't want to Spoil the Moment or be The Wife Who's Never Satisfied, and because I really do like my gift. I think I'm going to go to my room and cry now, and I don't know why I'm going to do this, but I feel it is something I need to do. Maybe it's the hormones. And since he's napping on the couch (instead of going to work, like he's SUPPOSED TO), he won't even know I'm doing it.

Survey says!

1) Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 18, and find line 4.
"...with all manner of Conditions." Taken from my husband's book, Guild Wars Official Game Guide.

2) Stretch your left arm out as far as you can and see what you touch.
My husband's arm. He's off today, and is sitting on the couch.

3) What is the last thing you watched on TV?
Fear Factor, and I watched it against my will, thanks dear.

4) Without looking, guess what time it is.
Let's see, it must be just after 5:00.

5) Now look at the clock. What is the actual time?
It's 4:07. Channel 55 lied about what time Leave it to Beaver comes on!

6) With the exception of the computer, what can you hear?
My dad and my daughter playing Pat-a-cake. Also the television, the fish tank, and my youngest daughter making little fussing noises as she sprawls on the floor.

7) When did you last step outside? What were you doing?
Yesterday? Yeah, that's right, I haven't gone outside today. And I was...taking out trash, I think.

8) Before you started this survey, what did you look at?
Nilo's blog, plus a list of Valentine's crafts from FamilyFun.com

9) What are you wearing?
Dark grey sweat pants, a dark purple T-shirt that is too long, and a dark grey hooded zipper sweatshirt. And white socks. And glasses.

10) Did you dream last night?
Yes, and it was terrible! There were crazy people everywhere, and pickles, and dead gardens, and nothing made any sense, and I was afraid to wake up and take care of my own baby because I thought my crazy rampage might carry through into the waking world.

11) When did you last laugh?
A little while ago. My husband's Valentine gift to me came early. He wasn't supposed to give me a gift at all. The card included the phrase "Nener nener nener."

12) What is on the walls of the room you are in?
Pictures of my family, a framed poster of Historic French Quarter, framed dragon puzzles we completed and glued, a plaque my husband was given upon leaving the military, a little cartoon with his platoon number from boot camp, a clock, a thermometer, framed pencil drawings of temples and Houston landmarks, and the speakers for our surround sound. Let it never be said that we don't have ambience around here.

13) Seen anything weird lately?
Did you hear the part where I said I'd had to sit through Fear Factor?

14) What do you think of this quiz?
I think it's kind of cute, actually.

15) What is the last movie you saw?
In the theater? Hoodwinked. At home? The Heavenly Kid.

16) If you became a multi-millionaire overnight, what would you buy?
I'd buy the lot this house is on, knock down this ancient 50s era house, and build a new house instead. Although, I think the house I want is too big for this lot. So maybe I'll buy the lot next door, too. That house needs to get knocked down anyway; it's always having plumbing problems.

17) Tell me something about you that I don't know.
I had orange hair once. It wasn't on purpose, either.

18) If you could change one thing about the world, regardless of guilt or politics, what would you do?
I'd eliminate Alzheimer's disease.

19) Do you like to dance?
Yes, I think ballroom dancing is the best. I just wish I had a dance partner. My husband has no rhythm.

20) George Bush?
Senior? I kind of miss him. Junior? I feel betrayed by him. Although I think I can safely say he's the first president in our nation's history to be elected despite having an obvious case of dyslexia.

21) Imagine your first child is a girl, what do you call her?
This one.

22) Imagine your first child is a boy, what do you call him?
That one.

23) Would you ever consider living abroad?
Yes. Absolutely. As long as by "abroad" you mean Italy.

24) What do you want God to say to you when you reach the pearly gates?
"Come on in, there are some people here who can't wait to see you."

Ricky Gervais!

Attention all you Houstonians. Beginning this Saturday, Feb. 18th, that beloved British comedy The Office will air every Saturday night at 9:30 PM on Houston PBS (that's channel 8 on broadcast TV). Yeah, that's right people. You can get your Ricky Fix every weekend. For free. No need to pay for digital cable, regular cable, or satellite TV. Hah! Take that, Time Warner!

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to watch The Beverly Hillbillies on channel 55 (also local). I'm just fit to be tied: finally, something to watch besides soaps, talk shows and courtroom dramedies!

Trigger Happy Retirees

If you're going to be in the Houston area, you'd better take cover, because the old people are shooting!

This morning in a grandfather accidentally shot a 17-year-old who was arguing with his 18-year-old grandson on their porch. Grandpa says he intended to raise his gun in the air and fire a warning shot to scare the youngster off, but he accidentally discharged the weapon in the wrong direction (or something) and shot the kid in the head. The argument? A fight over money.

Across town in League City, an 87-year-old woman shot her 80-year-old caretaker in the leg. First of all, why is an 80-year-old man (not her husband) responsible for an 87-year-old woman? Is she his girlfriend? Well, she's not anymore. And second, why does a woman this age have access to a freakin' .38? Is it for protection? Is it for the Octagenarian Gun Club? Why? Why? Why! And furthermore, why did she think shooting this man in the legs was an appropriate way to resolve a dispute over the car keys?

I think I'm with Eddie Izzard (the comedian) on this: Why do these grandfathers (and grandmothers) have these arsenals? We're all concerned about the kids going and getting guns and going Columbine, but what the heck are the grandparents planning on doing with them? Thank heaven my mother had the good sense to take away Grandpa's hunting rifles. At least, I hope she did. Hey, Ma?! We gotta talk!

Handy Cooking Tips

My four-year-old and I watch cooking shows nearly every day. If we had cable, we'd watch the Food Network, but as it is we stick to PBS and whatever the local stations offer.

Today on America's Test Kitchens we learned the following:

1. The best way to bake a pizza is on a pizza stone, preferably a large rectangular one that is completely flat (no lip like a tray), preheated with the oven. If you're going to buy a pizza stone, make sure you measure the interior of your oven first, as it can be a great deal smaller than the exterior. You don't want to get a stone that six whole inches too wide.
2. The best pizza cutter is the ten dollar one with the four-inch cutting wheel. The small-wheeled ones are only good for thin crust, the pie-slicer ones are messy, and the long rectangular cutter (used in pizza restaurants) is good but too big and bulky, a pain in the butt to store.
3. Bread flour is best for pizza crust.
4. Olive oil is, indeed, man's other best friend.
5. Chefs like weird stuff on their pizzas. (Seriously, carmelized onions, olives, and anchovies? Where's the cheese? Where's the tomato sauce?!)
6. California black olives are dyed black! Ewwww!

Movies Movies Movies!

The following kicks ass and should be a part of your life:

• Hoodwinked, starring Patrick Warburton, Glenn Close, Andy Dick and Anne Hathaway. It doesn't matter that it's an animated film, there are more pop culture references and over-the-heads-of-the-kids jokes than anything else. I almost hesitate to say this, just because it give something away, but...Triple G. I kid you not. Go see this movie. Go marry this movie.
• Serenity, starring all those people from Firefly. Having never seen the show, I wasn't quite sure how I'd like this movie, if it was something I'd wouldn't understand without the background, what have you. I need not have worried. This show kicked. Major. Ass! It was frickin' hilarious, and yet had great action, and yet was a sci-fi. How many ways do I have to say it? If you don't marry Hoodwinked, you should marry Serenity instead. (Also: it totally made me want to buy the show's season one on DVD.)
• Tortilla Soup, starring Hector Elizondo and Jaqueline Obradors. The story is good, the actors are fantastic, and best of all, it makes me hungry! Better yet, it makes me want to cook. It doesn't matter if you don't speak Spanish: that's what the subtitles are for, and most of the movie is in English anyway. Watch this movie. And then eat it.

The following things suck donkey butt, and should be extricated from our culture as soon as possible:

• Blockbuster Online, who are such a bunch of incompetent dillholes that I've asked Bizarro Dad to cancel our account before the free two-week trial is over. They can't send the right movie to save their lives, and they are just so full of crap. I'm taking my business to Netflix.
• Star Wars Episodes I, II, and III, starring Natalie Portman, Ewan MacGregor, Hayden Somethingorother, and a bunch of other people. I did sit through them all. I did try to like them. But seriously? The dialogue bites, and Hayden Whatshisface could not deliver a line without looking like something had crawled up his back end and died. I think it was the script, actually. And Natalie? She had her good moments, but mostly she kind of looked like she couldn't believe she'd been roped into a ten-year contract spewing this kind of crap. Her delivery was very wooden in some parts, and downright lazy in others. Or wait. Was it Hayden that was lazy? I don't know. The whole set was dumb. Cheesy in a way that suggests somebody screwed up.
• Aladdin and it's many cartoon sequels. I was all impressed with this animated feature when I was, like, 13, and thought the songs were all romantic and stuff. But the thing is, it was no Beauty and the Beast. Jasmine didn't make any sense: she's strong and independent, so she sneaks out to the market (without taking money, even though she knows what money is), and as soon as somebody starts to get upset with her, she's all "We can go to the Sultan, we can go to the Sultan!" WTF? And then, after she and Aladdin are caught and she's told that he's been executed because of her, she feels all guilty that her bid for independence cost an innocent man his life, so she doesn't run away, but she's still all, "I am not a prize to be won!" Then tell me, girl, what are you? Are you a functioning member of society? Do you scatter largess to the poor? Do you encourage education? No. You sit around all day in your halter top, combing your hair and playing with your tiger and pet birds. It takes meeting a street rat to bring out the cleverness in you, and you only seem to possess it when he's around. When he's not there, you're Daddy's little girl, which is fine and all, but stop whining about being treated like something more if you're not going to ACT like something more. Also: the animation get less and less impressive with each sequel, as does the script. It was like after a while, they decided the main plot of the third movie was just whatever Robin Williams came up with during his ad-libbing.
• Final Destination and all its sequels. Because, seriously? Three movies with the word "final" in them makes me think that somebody needs to just come up with a different title altogether. (And don't e-mail me trying to explain what they mean by "final destination." I already know. My husband loves these movies.) More to the point, why is it entertaining for a screenwriter and filmmaker to sit there and invent new and more creative ways to die, then film them for an audience? I do not understand this. If 15 kids die on a freak roller coaster accident in real life, we all go, "Gasp! How awful!" But put it in a horror movie and everyone's supposed to love it? Something is wrong with the people on this planet. Seriously.

Random Salsa

Have you seen that Verizon Wireless commercial, the one where the (nerdy) dad is all happy that he got everyone on the Family Share plan, so now wherever they go, they'll "have the network?" And he hands a phone to his Goth son, all "And when you go...wherever it is you go..."

Is it just me, or does his son look more like a mime than a Goth?

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Ah, Superbowl Sunday. A time when men sack out on the couch and shout obscenities at the TV, and women prepare great volumns of junk food and shout obscenities at their husbands. Not that I've ever done this. Much. In any case, on this holiest of American holy days, how are YOU worshipping the pagan god of football? Are you wearing medals of St. Sebastian, the Patron Saint of Athletes? Or are you perhaps more inclined to pray to St. Bernadine of Siena, the Patron Saint of Compulsive Gambling? Or maybe you're worried about the pounding your team is going to take? There's a list of 14 Patron Saints of Victims of Abuse, although I think those saints might get a bit angry, and say that their saintly favors are reserved for people who don't fight each other over a pigskin for a living. Then again, you may be on a money-making end of this whole game thing, in which case you can call on St. Matthew the Apostle, Patron Saint of Bookkeepers.

Best of luck to both teams! And by "luck," I mean, "no permanent physical damage."

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Is anyone else addicted to Sudoku Online? I don't know why, but I can't stop playing it! Part-Time Gamer would be proud. Or else, he (they) would think I'm a wack job for liking a game with no graphics and no movement. Sorry, guys. I'm not a Metroid kind of gal.

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Did anyone besides elementary school teachers even remember that Thursday was Groundhog Day? Did anyone bother checking a groundhog? I recall seeing a front page article about the groundhog predictions back when I was in first grade. Good sweet Mike, that was 20 years ago! Gack! I'm old! Look away, look away!

John Denver rides again!

Re-incarnated?

That's right, folks. According to my dad, the character Snook the Sloth from the new PBS show Big Big World kind of sucks because, as he puts it, "That main animal is always singing some kind of John Denver songs."

To be fair, Snook does sing a lot. Usually with guitar background music. And his songs are very...folksy? Country folksy? I don't know, people, I only learned to play one John Denver song back in college, and that was for Guitar 101. I do not know his "style" other than it was slow and simple enough for beginners to catch on easily.

In any case, catch John Denver Reborn on PBS, and let the next generation experience his puppeteered personality and angelic voice. Check your local listings.

P.S. Tee-hee to Jenny, who actually slipped on a banana peel. Hope you feel better, hon.