Insomniac Movie Review: Over the Hedge

Over the Hedge
Starring: Bruce Willis (who I love because he's not afraid to be silly), Gary Shandling (in his least annoying role ever), Steve Carell (I normally can't stand him, but here he's great), William Shatner, Avril Lavigne, Wanda Sykes, Allison Janney (who knew she could play so evil?), many others
MPAA Rating: PG, for rude humor and mild comic action. Wait, what is "mild comic action" supposed to mean? Is that supposed to mean the part where the skunk does her skunk thing? Is slapstick comedy a PG thing now?

The Plot: As if you hadn't figured it out from all 497 million commercial spots. A group of forest animals wake up from hibernation to find that most of their forest has been cleared and turned into a suburb. A raccoon named RJ (Bruce Willis) shows up and teaches the others how to steal food from the humans. He has an ulterior motive. The Homeowners Association President has motives of her own. Bonus: this movie is based on a comic strip by the same name. It was written by a man who lived in Houston (!) and saw how the wildlife had to try and live right in the middle of civilization. Double bonus: the day after I saw this movie, I saw a dead racoon in the road near a shopping center, not fifty yards away from the nearest suburb.

What annoyed me: The previews. No, seriously. I am so sick of seeing that stupid preview with the animated penguin, voiced by Robin Williams, singing "I Did It My Way" in Spanish. It looks stupid, and I will not see it. Besides which, it scares my children. Both of them. Every time. Crying. Stop showing it. I also refuse to see Santa Clause 3, because Tim Allen does not need encouragement to keep making dumbass movies. Also, sequels to GOOD movies don't usually do as well as the original, so I don't see why anyone thinks it's a good idea to make a sequel to a SUCKY one. (Do not send hate mail. Santa Clause 1 was not bad, but part 2 was a piece of crap, and you know it.)

Should you see Over the Hedge? Yes. Yes you should. Because it was written by a Houstonian. Also, because it's funny, and the kids in the audience were cracking up. The little ones liked it. The big ones liked it. My husband liked it. My four-year-old, I'll admit, was scared during one part of the movie. But not scared enough to scream. And yes, during part of the movie she started climbing over her seat, but only because her little sister did it first, and because she's too little to understand and appreciate the parts of a movie in which a character has a life-changing revelation (a.k.a. the slow part with all the talking). But after the movie was over, she kept talking about what she'd seen, and continued to do so through the next day. That's more than I can say about the last movie we took her to.

And yes, there were a lot of fart jokes. There's a skunk, people. Get over it. For a couple of hours, pretend you're still in fourth grade and fine that stuff funny. Once you leave, you may resume your hoity toity I-cahn't-aBIDE-bahthroom-hyumour attitude.

Spoilers: The spooky part that scared my daughter was the bear. It was chasing down the animals and attacking an exterminator truck and roaring and trying to eat things that were still alive. Yeah, my daughter hid her little face in the armrest. But afterward, she was fine. She still sleeps with her bear, and does not seem to have had any nightmares. The savage bear still didn't scare her as much as that stupid singing penguin from the preview.

My favorite parts were the cracks about the Homeowner's Association. Honestly, I think the Homeowner's Assoc. may very well be the prime indicator of the downfall of civil liberty. If you own a property that belongs to an HA, they can actually dictate who you sell your house to, what flowers you can plant, what color you can paint your house, whether or not you can have a flag pole on your property, whether or not you can park in your own driveway, all that jazz. I tell you, it's just WRONG. Homeowner's Associations should be deemed unconstitutional, and all the HA presidents should be made to suffer. Which is why I love this movie. Heh heh heh...

So, go see this movie. If you prefer to wait for DVDs, that might not be such a bad idea. I missed some of the lines because the kids in the theater were laughing too hard. I must say, the explosions won't be quite the same without the large screen.

Note to Humble, TX, Deerbrook AMC 24: when you premiere a children's movie, have the courtesy to show it on one of your larger screens, just like you do the adult and teen movies. I'm tired of seeing the animated movies back in screens 8 and 9. Some of the picture is cut off, and the surround sound speakers are starting to fail. Also: fire your projectionist. He clearly can't align the picture to the screen without an extra pair of hands.

If Size 12 is Not Fat, I'm...Fat

I've put on a good 25 pounds in the last year, and I no longer know for sure what size clothing is right for me. Thanks to my mother's genes, I have the unfortunate trait of storing much of my excess fat in my tummy, giving me the appearance of a "beer gut" or of pregnancy. Thanks, Mom.

I hit the thrift store this afternoon and found two pairs of pants that worked for me. One was a size 12 from The Gap, which must mean it's a size 99 in real life, what with "vanity sizing" and all. Clearly the Gap only wants me to buy their clothes, so that I feel thin when I'm in their store, and plump everywhere else.

The other pair of pants was a size Large. In maternity wear. You know the kind: if you wear a shirt that goes just below the waist, then it looks like you have regular pants, but pulling up the shirt reveals that knit fabric with the really thick elastic waistband inside. I didn't try it on in the store, but a quick hold-it-against-my-waist told me it would fit just fine.

I spent most of the afternoon trying to live that down. For heaven's sake, I gave birth two years ago. I seriously doubt I'm pregnant, and even if I am, there's no way my tummy should be sticking out this much this soon.

I won't even get into the horrors of swimsuit shopping, which I did later this evening.

When I got home I modeled my new clothes for Bizarro Dad. The maternity pants were quite a relief after weeks (months?) of all my other pants squeezing me. He said they looked nice. He also said "we" need to start working out and trying to lose weight if I've reached the point of maternity wear.

He weighs 280 pounds. He is 100 pounds overweight (according to Marine Corps standards, which he no longer is required to adhere to). I am only 25 pounds overweight. And honestly, I'm probably only really 15 pounds overweight, when you take into account my 10-pound chestal extremities. No offense, oh love of my life, but you needed to "start working out" back before we got married. Also: I'm approaching 30. I don't have the same metabolism I had ten years ago. I do yard work and I chase two kids around all day, so it's not like I live a sedentary lifestyle. So don't give me this "we" shit. Butt nugget.

Anyway, I pointed out to my husband that my new maternity pants were really no different than the elastic-waisted jogging pants he wears constantly. Except mine look nice. Mine can be worn out, even on a date. His have paint stains. Even the one without stains still looks incredibly tacky when he wears it out in public.

Yeah, I felt really bad about having to buy maternity pants. But then I tried them on when I got home, and you know what? Those babies are the most comfortable pair of pants I've ever owned in my LIFE. More comfortable than the linen ones from Old Navy. More comfortable than the maternity pants I used to wear when I WAS pregnant. Screw what anyone else thinks about my clothing. I may very well buy nothing but maternity pants. And I'm not going to let myself feel anything but happy that I finally have clothes that are comfortable.

Unless, of course, "I" lose some weight when "we" finally go work out.

Asshat.

Stuff and Nonsense Cafe, 5-10-06

Welcome to the Stuff and Nonsense Cafe! We do hope you enjoy our myriad selection of meals actually being served by our content mistress, Sleepless Mama, in her own home. Please have a seat, enjoy your meal, and read on as Sleepless Mama rambles about anything that happens to cross her mind.

Today's lunch menu:
Potato Soup
PB&J
Leftover Potato and Egg Tacos from Breakfast
Ice Cream Sandwiches
Cheetos
Carrots

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In entertainment news, Mission Impossible III is or is not doing so well, depending on how you spin the numbers. According to The Houston Chronicle, MI3 made $48 million its opening weekend, more than the rest of the weekend's top ten films put together, and the second largest opening weekend this year so far. However, the Chronicle also admits that the expectation was a $60+ million dollar opening. It also says that MI3 cost $150 million to make and millions more to promote. Finally, the first two Mission Impossible Films had much better opening weekends when you figure in the cost of inflation. MI1 made $45.4 million (the equivalent of $67 million today), and MI2 $57.8 million (the equivalent of $70 million today).

Clearly, two problems are at work here. 1) Not enough people want to see Tom Cruise's movie now that he's gone completely overboard. I already thought he was a buttnugget back when he and Nicole split up, but in the past year he's upgraded to full-on assclown publicity whore. People are sick of him already. 2) The box office slump is almost entirely due to the rising cost of movie tickets. No, seriously. That MI2 figure I presented you with? Yeah, MI2 was released only six years ago. Ticket prices have gone up THAT MUCH. It doesn't matter whether the movies up on that screen are awesome examples of their respective genres or flaming turd piles, if ticket prices are too high then more people are going to say "screw that, I'll just wait until it's on DVD and rent it at Blockbuster for $4."

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The following was taken from this week's column of News of the Weird:

The Continuing Crisis
Eleven women in the area around the nation's capital have bonded, according to a February Washington Post story, around a tall, athletic man of German heritage (with a master's degree and who tans easily), whom none has ever met. The man, known as donor 401, is the one whose sperm each of the women chose to be inseminated with, selected from a biographical catalog of the Fairfax Cryobank. That the women's 12 offspring have a common father has provided powerful motivation for them to learn about each other, as a way of learning about 401 (who has now retired as a donor, though there is still a waiting list for his stored sperm.) [Washington Post, 2-27-06]

This goes to illustrate the point I've been trying to make for years, which is that there is an unregarded danger in having children by anonymous sperm donation: the potential for future children to not know they are biological siblings, and form relationships with each other that would be considered incestuous. Just think, what if these 12 women had not rallied around each other and decided to meet, play getting-to-know-you, and wonder which of their kids would get the tanning gene? For all we know, some of the sons could have grown up, met one of the daughters, and thought "Hey, she's cute, and she tans so easily. Maybe we should hook up." Studies show that people are attracted to individuals who have facial features similar to their own. What's to stop these anonymous sibs from getting jiggy with each other by mistake?

Every time I brought this up in school, or with a health care professional, I got the brush off. "Oh, that's not a problem. More than likely they'll be separated geographically and will never meet." Excuse me, but how does anyone know this? Are the sperm donations of a single man separated and sent to different parts of the country? (If the article quoted above is indicitave of standard procedure, then the answer is no.) Does the fertility clinic ensure that all women who accept sperm from the same donor live in different parts of town? If one of those women move in close proximity to another, do they get little fliers in the mail saying, "By the way, one of the children in this community was fathered by the same donor as your child. For reasons of privacy we cannot actually tell you who that child is, so to be on the safe side, don't let your kids make out with anyone who bears a slight resemblance to themselves." WHY don't people make more of a big deal about this? Here this man with the nice tan has 12 children on the way in DC, and a WAITING LIST to have more (also in DC, I'll bet), and nobody wonders what will happen when a man's seed has been spread anonymously throughout a community. People, WAKE UP! Do we really want the next generation to be the children of unknown inbreeding?!

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Product Review: LCD Cleaning Wipes by MG Chemicals
According to the label, it safely cleans LCD screens, laptop screens, and plasma screens, is anti-static, non-streaking, and germicidal, and is available in a plastic canister of 90 wipes. Cost: $7.99 USD. Consumer opinion: This stuff ROCKS on our LCD computer monitor! Very effective at removing grubby fingerprints provided by the children. Be aware that it contains isopropanol; if it gets in your eyes or on your skin you should rinse well with water. Also, remember to close the container after each use to avoid wipe dry-out.

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Spanish language version of the American national anthem: good, bad, neither?
Personally, my national anthem will only mean something to ME when I hear it in English. I wish the translation into Spanish had been a direct translation, because then there would have been less fuss about it. Nonetheless, I recognize that not everything has a direct translation, and that someone was simply trying to do a nice thing by providing a way for new immigrants to understand the meaning behind the words to our anthem.

My husband, the Marine, is all pissy about this new version. "It will never mean the same thing! It's a symbol, you can't mess with it! How long before it's being sung at baseball games! Why can't people just learn it in English?!" (I wonder what his grandparents, who spoke only limited English, would have to say about his point of view.) His brother J, also a Marine, doesn't have a problem with the Spanish version, and made the same points I did. I pointed out to my husband that since he swore an oath to uphold the Constitution, he can't demand that this Spanish song be taken off the air or never be sung in a public venue, since it is protected by the First Amendment. He looked at me, blinking his eyes, and asked what on earth the First Amendment had to do with it. I blinked right back. "Free speech, honey?"

I am completely supportive of our servicemen. I know they don't start wars, politicians do; military members just go where Big Daddy sends them. But I think perhaps there needs to be some fine-tuning of the education going on in basic training. Because if thousands of men and women are going going to fight, be wounded, and/or die to uphold our Constitution, then damnit, they need to know what it says! Is that too much to ask?

Immigrant Protest: The Day After

Just so you know, my great-grandmother came to Texas decades ago, bringing her widowed mother and younger siblings to some place where they could find work and be a family. She payed six cents to cross the border.

Does this make her a legal immigrant, or an illegal one?

Yesterday factories shut down, businesses probably closed (though from what I read, there were still a large number of people out shopping), the neighbors didn't send their kids to school, all that jazz.

You know what? My garbage still got picked up on time. One of the sanitation workers in the truck was on his cel phone, jabbering away.

I didn't go grocery shopping, not because of my immigrant sympathy, but because I had a migraine.

On the one hand, I think there's something to the idea of a Guest Worker program, with the option to become a citizen later. Give these people a chance to be taxpaying citizens instead of burdens on welfare programs. I certainly oppose any law that would make illegal immigration (or giving aid to illegal immigrants) a felony.

On the other hand, I agree with the legal immigrant who said that instantly granting citizenship to 12 million illegal aliens is a surrender. We can't handle having the entire Western hemisphere show up at our border demanding a green card, a job and a house. We only offer that kind of welcome package to people from the Eastern hemisphere, particularly Arab countries. (What? It's true. The U.S. recruits people from Arab countries to move here, granting them $50,000 and ten years of free rent.)

Seriously, how screwed up is America's immigration policy?

One thing I definitely oppose, and that's a wall along our border. When did we become East Berlin? Does anybody seriously think that if we put up a wall, the terrorists won't get through? Does anyone actually think some razorwire is going to keep someone from getting into our country and bombing us? Honey, I lived in a prison town during college; we had three separate incidents of escapes in a single year, include men on Death Row. Trust me, razor wire is not the most effective deterrent to a truly determined man.

100 Posts! Hooray, I can't shut up!

Random topics for today:

Animal Kingdom:
My home and property seems to be filled with animals that are killing other animals. My fish tank is home to a fiercely dominant cichlid who has killed no less than four (but more likely seven) other cichlids introduced to the tank. He seems to be allowing one submissive male to live, but he certainly does pick on the pour little guy a great deal. My dog killed a bird yesterday and left it in her water dish. I hope it wasn't one of the baby birds that lives in the carport pole. And finally, I allowed a common garden lizard to come into the house, because I am seriously sick of the insects that have come into the house to escape the heat. So far I've not seen a visible difference, but I can be patient.

Genetic Memory and Music:
I read once about a young Asian-American girl who, upon first hearing music from her family's country of origin, felt that "there was something inside of me that liked it--like it synchronized right with the pulsing of my blood through my body." (Laurence Yep, Child of the Owl) This is, of course, part of a work of fiction, but I recognize that feeling. When I hear the music of Mexico, there are two distinct feelings: personal memory and unfamiliar familiarity.

To explain: I heard certain types of Mexican music all the time growing up, because Grandma would put it on the record player. I have a personal memory of these sounds, and they motivate me do do certain things that Grandma always did while listening. Like make blankets, or mop.

But then, of course, there is that other part, the unfamiliar familiarity. I hear a song I've never heard before, but it sounds right, somehow, and my blood races, and I feel like I'm somewhere else, or even someONE else, but not in a way that is uncomfortable.

What I do find interesting is that it is not only Mexican music that makes me feel this way. Once in a while I will get that odd and wonderful sensation when I hear a traditional Native American song, or (if you can believe it) that one song you always hear at Bar Mitzvahs, the one that sounds almost as if a snake-charmer is part of the band. I wish I knew what that song is called so I could speak of it properly and not like some ignoramus who lives in a Christian vacuum. In any case, the sounds in that song feel good to me, like they make sense in a way I don't understand. It's not like that for me for most other ethnic music (and believe me, my experience is varied). But there's something about these songs, these sounds...they just feel so comfortable, like pulling on some long-forgotten favorite item of clothing and realizing that it still fits.

Of course, this could all be nonsense. It could just be that I like accordion music, or something. I do come from a family of musicians, so maybe what I'm feeling is more of a genetic predisposition to music in general. I really can't trace my family tree further back than 150 years, so who's to say I don't have these ethnic groups somewhere in my background?

FOOD!:
I spent part of my evening baking a Chocolate Cherry Torte (which takes FOREVER by the way) all because my father is getting pissy about whether or not the new oven is properly calibrated. I pop the cake pans in the oven and set the timer. At T minus 17 minutes, I go to read Gina her bedtime story. It takes forever. I get out of her room to find the timer at 14 minutes and rising. Yeah, that's right, the cake sat in the oven 14 extra minutes, and my husband (who was in that part of the house) didn't take it out of the oven because he "didn't hear it." I think maybe he "wasn't paying attention" because he can't stop playing his new video game. Well, at least the cake isn't burned, though it is a little dryer than I'd like. I'll have to tell my dad that the results of this baking test were inconclusive. Oh fooey. Now I'll have to bake another cake. *wink*

Funny Stuff:
For a good time, go check out cockeyed.com. Dude is hilarious and inventive, and I can't get enough of him. I feel inspired to invent new fun things to do every time I look at his website.

Britney Spears is pregnant again. Yankees everywhere can't understand why she won't wear shoes. Personally, I think it may have something to do with swollen ankles and the heat, but then I don't wear shoes all that much to begin with. Also: somebody please just take KFed to get snipped. The man needs to be removed from the gene pool already. He's like a younger version of my father-in-law (three wives, seven kids ages 1 to 28, only ten years to go before retirement age, and still hasn't decided now might be a good time to take the bullets out of the gun). Seriously, somebody explain to KFed that his best course of action is to stop producing heirs to his madness. While we're at it, will someone please send SuperNanny over to Britney's house? Because clearly she needs to be taught how to care for children, or at least how to choose a permanent nanny more carefully. Baby's seven months old and Family Services has investigated them TWICE. Anyone else might have had their baby taken away from them by now.

It's late, and I must get to sleep. Good night, all, and a special Happy Birthday to Nilo!

Birthday Wishes!

Happy Birthday Bizarro Dad!

Happy Birthday Cousin R!

Happy Birthday Karl

Insomniac Movie Review: The Wild

Title: The Wild
MPAA Rating: G

Did my kids like it?: Yes, they did. Even the little one got down off my lap and stuck her head in between the two seats in front of her so that she could see the movie clearly, without obstruction. True, the oldest has not been inundating me with movie quotes, but she didn't do that with the last family movie we went to see, either. And there was definite laughter throughout the movie, from my kids and from all the other kids in the theater.

Did I like it?: Yeah. It wasn't a bad movie. It wasn't fabulous, but then, I don't go to a children's movie looking for heavy drama. I did get a few laughs out of it.

The Plot: Lion and his cub live in zoo. Cub is accidentally taken away and shipped off to the wild (Africa). Lion and his friends hijack a boat and go rescue him. No, really. And (you'll never believe this) the whole thing is NOT a rip-off of Madagascar. It's a rip-off of Lion King.

Okay, seriously. According to the people arguing in the IMDb message boards, The Wild has began production (or pre-production, or whatever) ten years ago, long before Madagascar was a twinkle in Dreamworks's eye. I must say, I have my doubts about that, because if it really began that long ago, Pixar might have done The Wild themselves, since it was before their Great Giving of the Finger to Disney. But then again, Pixar may have been offered this story and refused it, since they don't like doing blatant rip-offs.

To explain: the story comes off as Madagascar plus Lion King with a dash of Finding Nemo. But really, part of the reason it comes off Finding Nemo is because the Tale of Someone Getting Lost and the Rest of his Friends/Family Going to Find Him has been told over and over again for, literally, hundreds of years, maybe even thousands. They say there are only, like, eight different stories in the world, and every other tale is just a different version of one or more of those stories. After seeing so many movies, I am beginning to suspect this is true.

As far as the Madagascar stuff goes, well, it wouldn't be the first time Dreamworks ripped off a Disney idea, rushed to make their own version, and then released their's into theaters before Disney. Hello, Antz vs. A Bug's Life, anyone? Dreamworks was a BIG TIME IDEA SWIPER. Apparently, they still are.

But with this movie, I felt the story guys just blatantly ripped off Lion King. With the cub who can't roar, and the animals that want to behave in a way that is contrary to the laws of nature, and the dancing at the base of an active volcano (remember the hyenas at the elephant graveyard, and how the canyon kept changing shapes and spewing steam?). There's even a scene in which one creature stomps his hoof on the Lion's paw as he's dangling at the egde of a cliff. Do you see what I mean, here?

As we left the theater, my husband and I were pondering why Disney would plagiarize it's own movie. It doesn't make any sense! I can see lack of imagination, as far as the general storyline, but some of those scenes were complete and total copies. In fact, it seemed as if the whole copycat theme was...deliberate? That this movie Is, in fact, a (dare I say it?) parody.

Yes! Yes, that's what it is, it makes PERFECT sense! Because not only are the wildebeasts dancing around a volcano, they are TALKING about dancing around a volcano, and in fact harsh on each other about the CHOREOGRAPHY! Patrick Warburton's character actually goes so far as to tell his leader/choreographer that the style of dance is "so eighties."

Ha! Success! It's not a lack of imagination! It's satire! Only funnier! Or, if not that, then it's laziness combined with parody! I GET IT!

ahem

So, yeah, go see this with your kids, so that they can laugh at the fart jokes and you can laugh at the parody aspects of it. Or, wait until it comes out on video (although, I must tell you, the city landscape scenes will lose their grandeur when viewed on a small screen).

Also: there's a song in this movie, I think it's played by U2 but I'm not sure. It's in the "animals ride around the city in awe of all the bright lights and tall buildings" scene. I LOVE that song, but I don't know the title or the artist. Anyone care to help?

"Well I never did mind the little things."

Lest you all think my husband is a pompous ass, let me tell you how he HAS helped me in the last few days.

• Watching the kids while I go to Cub Scouts.
• Putting away clean dishes.
• Folding towels.
• Going grocery shopping for me so I could stay home and watch Alias. (Although, in retrospect, I think I should just go myself next time, so we don't have another $100 grocery bill.)
• Putting away the dinner leftovers.
• Picking up needed items on the way home from work, even though the traffic is murder.
• Changing diapers.
• Bringing me dinner in bed and some Tylenol when I had a migraine.
• Helping restore some order to the kitchen after the kids had a confetti-like battle with uncooked basmati (super-long-grain rice from the Middle East). He even had to get off the X-Box for this one!

He's not so bad, really. He just has to be asked to do something. I notice it also helps to give him a timeline. For example: "Make sure the food gets put away by 7:30, or it will go bad and I'll have to throw it away." If he's not playing a game or watching a movie, it's mostly not a big deal to get him to help me, unless the chore is dishes or yard work, in which case I have a better chance of finding a snowcone in hell. The biggest trouble is that he likes to play games and watch movies all the time.

Ew! What IS that stuff stuck to the kids' table? It's...watermelon juice? But why didn't he just...I mean, paper towels are RIGHT THERE. He left a dish towel ON THE DESK, not THREE FEET from the little table.

Okay, then, the second biggest trouble is that he won't clean up after himself or the kids, not even when there's food involved, unless I'm standing over him telling him to do so.

Calm, calm, breathe, not a big deal, not something that can't be taken care of quickly and easily, calm...

Are those his SOCKS!? On the living room FLOOR?! AGAIN!?!!!!!

Oh, who am I kidding. The socks look right at home next to all the other junk that the kids and hubby and brother-in-law have left all over the room.

And he did watch the kids for me last night. He did do that.

While playing his X-Box.

*sigh*

He's not an ass. He's not. Really.

He's just lazy.

Okay, name the movie the title-quote comes from. Bonus points for the actor/actress who said it (you can name the character if you don't remember the actor). Big thanks to cmhl for giving me the idea.

My daughter the card shark, and other stories

Today my four-year-old beat me at three hands of Crazy Eights.

We only played three hands!

Suddenly I feel very old.

In other news: The kids trashed my living room, and I only half care, because I'm still exhausted from last week. I made Gina pick up all the paper Easter basket grass that she and Sia spread on the floors of every room in the house.

I am fat, after a lifetime of being thin. And I don't care. Much. Except for the part where my old dresses no longer fit, I don't know what my dress size is anymore, and I wonder if I should go to the store and try on stuff until I figure it out, or if I should just dig out my old maternity clothes and see how they fit. I recall my aunt gave me some really nice maternity clothes.

This Easter I did not have a nice, pretty, light-colored dress. See above re: dress size issue. I wanted to buy one, but Wal-Mart apparently has stopped selling full dresses and only sells expensive separates. And really, I felt like there wasn't the money for a dress anyway, especially with all the other stuff in our cart. So I told myself I just couldn't get a new dress. Then my husband put a new pair of shorts in the basket for himself, even though he just bought new clothes two weeks ago. I tried very hard not to cry. But I still let him buy it, because I knew that he really did need some new shorts. I'm not the only one putting on weight.

Maybe today, if there's time, I'll go to the thrift store. They have a dressing room there with a curtain for a door. I'll try on a bunch of size 12s and 14s and see if any of them fit. I can probably get something cute, or at least comfortable, for five bucks.

I love my husband. But he really is clueless.

I am tired of asking for help and not getting it. They tell you, "It's not healthy to take on more than you can handle. So if you need help, swallow your pride and ASK for it." So I ask. But when it comes time for the help to begin, my helper has gone to sleep, or has forgotten that his help was needed. It doesn't happen this way all the time. But it happens enough to frustrate me.

So here's another secret for my collection:

When I ask you to help me do something, but you ignore me or "forget" that you agreed because you're too busy playing a videogame...

I cry into the dishwater as quietly as I can.

Psst...

Lately I've been keeping up with Post Secrets, and have in fact bought the full-color hardcover book. I read the whole book in one night. I could not stop soaking in all the secrets. I was sad for a while, looking at all the pains, but I must admit I was amused, too.

I've thought about what secrets I would like to send. We all have at least one secret, or so I imagine. What would I send to this man in Maryland whom I've never met? What would he think of my secret? What does he think of everyone else's?

Possible Responses to Various Secrets from Around the Globe

• Bor-ring
• I swear, if one more person tells me they pee in the shower...
• Ew, gross!
• Now that's just plain weird.
• Hmm. The secret is boring but the card sure is pretty.
• Why doesn't anyone ever send me a happy secret?
• Dude, she's your MOM!
• Okay, now this guy's just bragging.
• Oh yeah, I did that once, too.
• Heh, I'd do that in a heartbeat if I could avoid being caught.
• Just once, I'd like someone to send me a box of cookies.

I read an article about this and other "confession" projects. The creator of the Post Secrets community art project says that he is starting to feel the burden of so many secrets. I can see why, I think. It's just too much, all that suffering. And he gets a couple hundred post cards a DAY.

So, in honor of this confessional project, and so as to not burden this nice man with my secret, I will share my secret with you, my three readers (if all three of you are still there). This is not my only secret, but it's all you get.

This weekend the kids were unable to finish off their piñata and get the candy out, so I stepped up and beat that thing to oblivion.

I let everyone believe I was thinking about my husband, and how he did some random thing to piss me off. Even my husband believes it.

Actually, I was thinking about the same thing I always think about when I beat a rug or a piñata: my ex-boyfriend, and how much it hurt when he left me.

It happened years ago, but the wound is not gone. Not even a wonderful marriage has been able to fully heal me.

So I busted a paper mache animal, thinking about his face. It didn't heal me, but it sure gave me 90 seconds of satisfaction.

Have a great week, people. And don't forget, Alias is on today! Watch as the great ship sinks!

Insomniac Movie Review: V for Vendetta

Title: V for Vendetta
MPAA Rating: R for violence, language, and some gross stuff (okay, the grossness probably wasn't the R-rated part, but just know that it's there)

Okay, the grossness: I won't get into what exactly it was. But I will tell you I'm the most squeamish person alive, so if it didn't bug me, you'll probably be fine.

I don't think I've ever in my life wanted to buy a comic book because of the movie it was based on. And there have certainly been a ridiculous number of such movies in my lifetime, going all the way back to Superman, or the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. But after watching this film last night, I can hardly wait to truck on over to Barnes and Noble, where I KNOW they have the whole comic series bound into one volumn. This movie was, for lack of a better word, AWESOME!

Highly political? Check. Violent, but not randomly so? Check. Cute chick, dashing hero, ugly villain? Check, check, and check.

When I say "dashing," don't misunderstand me. The hero is not attractive because of his face, although I will admit that after a while the mask started to look good. I mean his manner, his speech, his charisma, everything about him that was so...well, hot. And tragic. And funny. Like I said, hot.

But guys, don't worry, there's something there for you. Did I mention the violence? Oh, and the cute girl? She really is quite lovely, even after she gets her head shaved. (Oh, don't go ape because I gave something away. The trailers gave it away months ago.)

My husband told me he heard of controversy about the wisdom of releasing this movie at this time. After all, it is essentially a pro-terrorist film, if you want to take that view of things. But the thing is, now is the PERFECT time to release this film. It's about a man with an idea, and history has proven that it is often the work of one man that brings about great social change. And it's about freeing the people from an oppressive government. Is that not why America has fought so many wars?

Well, no, maybe not. You could argue that all wars are fought for money. My fifth-grade teacher certainly did argue that. And in that respect, this fictional war is no different. The men doing the oppression are filthy stinking rich, got that way by unscrupulous means that harmed many, and intend to keep all their riches (but more importantly, their power) by continuing their cycle of abuse, lies, and murder.

Hey, do you know of any countries that tell lies, abuse their people, or commit murder? I do.

Do you know of any countries that are slowly taking away the rights of their people, bit by bit? I do. In fact, I think maybe I live there.

Fortunately, I still have the right to object. I still have the right to say, "You know what, what you are doing is the exact opposite of what you're supposed to be defending. That shit ain't right."

I still have the right to say, "You know what, this war that you started is no longer a war we need to be in the middle of. Maybe you started out doing the right thing, but now you're only making things worse. Bring our boys home."

I still have the right to say, "You are polluting our planet. Cut it out, assclown, and act like the world will still matter once you're long dead."

I still have the right to say stuff like that. I still have the right to read any Bible I choose, whether it be the Torah, the New Testament, the Book of Mormon, the Koran, the Kabbalah, the Bhagavad-Gita, or the Tibetan Book of the Dead. I have the right to listen to any music I like, look at any art I like, see any movie, watch any show. And I do not surrender this right. Nor do I choose to limit the rights of others, should their opinions differ from mine. (This addendum: I do not condone anything that physically or psychologically violates other people. That's just more oppression for entertainment value.)

And this movie is one I chose to see. And I loved it.

Insomniac Movie Review: Ice Age 2

Title: Ice Age 2: The Meltdown
MPAA Rating: PG, for some mild language and innuendo (in other words, somebody says "Da-yum!")

So we took my two daughters, ages four and not-quite-two, to see this Monday night. The baby? Didn't care about it. She was not riveted. She was not amazingly silent for previously unheard of lengths of time. She did get excited when the film began to roll, but after a while she got antsy and fussy and had to be walked around. So to those of you parents who have a child this age: take the child to the theater well before bedtime, or you will have an upleasant experience.

Gina, on the other hand, was very interested. She was able to discern what was going on some of the time, and tell us about it. Trouble is, she wanted to tell us while the movie was still playing, so we had to shush her. Not a big deal, but then when the audience started laughing at something, she turned around and started shushing all of them. "You need to be quiet, peoples."

There were enough jokes in there to tickle the adults. Bizarro Dad has been repeating them ever since. So you won't be bored, Mom and Dad. Unless you're already boring, in which case, liven up a little!

This movie is worth taking your kids to. Now, if you don't want to be spoiled or read about the controversy that has started around this movie, read no further.

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Still with me? Great!

There have been some who object to the death of an animal being shown on screen in this movie. Actually, that's probably not quite how they phrased it, which is good, because that's not quite what happened on the screen, either.

An animal did in fact die. It was eaten. It was not, however, shown being eaten. Here is the scene: Surface of the water is on screen. Turtle is in the water. Turtle is suddenly dragged down, but camera stays with surface of water. A few seconds pass. Turtle shell comes back up. There is no turtle in the turtle shell. There is no blood. There are no bones (unless you count the shell). You don't see ANYTHING. You just know that the turtle was eaten by the two crocodile-like reptiles released into the water a few scenes earlier in the movie.

People are objecting to this! They're pitching fits! My thinking is, any kid who watches Animal Planet or a nature show on PBS has already seen the real thing, and I can guarantee that they saw blood, guts, and very sharp teeth. And if my four-year-old, who is highly sensitive, didn't care, it probably won't be much of a problem for your four-year-old, either. Furthermore, do you really want your kid to see a movie where crocs DON'T eat an animal, but leave it alone because it's all cute? That's fine for puppets, but what happens when you take your kid to the zoo and they think it'll be okay if they climb the fence into the crocodile enclosure? Don't worry, Mommy, it won't get me because I'm cute! Whatever.

Even from a storytelling perspective, it is important that the audience be shown that the reptiles in question are in fact dangerous. Why leave it to the last two scenes to show that they mean business? That's not how you create suspence. That's not how you set up a good story.

Now, the Scrat. This is my only complaint about the movie, really: too much Scrat. I know, he proves to be important, but the thing is, if you don't know that, it just seems like the director used a bunch of Scrat scenes as filler. Most of the time, it seems to halt the rest of the story.

Conclusion: Take the kids, you'll have some fun right along with them.

Signs in Houston, Part 2

This weekend my father and I went to the appliance store to look at stoves. On the way home, we passed a family medical clinic. It's been under construction for months. In fact, I think it was already open for business while parts of the building were still being constructed.

This clinic is located in a lower to lower middle class community. I am assuming that this explains the need for a clinic, as opposed to some fancy shmancy, 12 story medical office building. I'm glad it's there; the people really do need to feel like they are getting quality medical care, and there are few things more comforting in life than to be sitting in a clean exam room, as opposed to one with empty blood tubes on the floor under the exam table, or worse, cockroaches.

The lettering on the outside wall is big and bold, supposedly acting as a beacon to the surrounding families. The different sections of the building have their specialties emblazoned in the same manner. "FAMILY PRACTICE." "PEDIATRICS." "GYNECOLOGIST."

Yeah, you read that right. In big glowing letters (that's right, GLOWING) about 10 or 15 feet across is the word GYNECOLOGIST. Not Obestrician or Women's Health.

My father offered his opinion on the matter.

Dad: What the hell kind of dumbass clinic puts "GYNECOLOGIST" in big ole letters over the front door?
Me: Um...
Dad: Who wants to be seen walking into a building that's marked like that?
Me: They could have put OB/GYN or obstetrician. It's more or less the same thing.
Dad: So why didn't they put that?
Me: I don't know...they thought it would be better advertising for this community? There are a lot of pregnant teenagers around that area...

In any case, I kind of agree with my dad on one point: nobody, particularly men, wants to see the word GYNECOLOGIST on the side of the road in giant glowing letters as they're driving home and about to eat dinner. It's the kind of thing most men don't really want to think about, period.

*snicker*

The N Word

The other night at a family get-together, my aunt said something racist, even though she is not (to my knowledge) a racist. Then again, maybe my knowledge of her is not what I thought it was.

We were at the dinner table, just Aunt (age 42?), my cousin D (male, age 25) and me (age 27). The rest of the family were in various parts of Grandma's house, watching movies or playing with kids or whatever. Aunt said she was exhausted after a long week, because with the new bank merger her company is involved in, everybody who was not downsized suddenly has a lot to do. She said, "They've been making us work like niggaz."

I stopped, my fork in the air, and said nothing. I'm sure I had an ugly look on my face, but Aunt was sitting to my left, not across from me, so I don't know what she saw. I looked over at my cousin, who was sitting across from her. He also said nothing, but didn't pause as long as I did, and kept his countenance enough to keep eating.

My aunt was instantly embarrassed (I think), and said kind of meekly, "Excuse my language." Pause. Meek voice: "But it's true."

I am sure that my facial expression did not get any nicer. Cousin D, after swallowing his food, was able to continue the conversation by asking more specific questions about the merger and who'd been let go. I kept silent for a while.

First of all, I think it's ridiculous that a 42-year-old banker is using ANY words that end in a-z. Getting that out of the way, I wondered what the hell was going through my aunt's educated mind that she felt it would be okay to use the N word at the dinner table (even if most of the family had already finished dinner). And most of all, I wondered why saying, "But it's true," was supposed to excuse the use of the word. Why would it be "true?"

Perhaps she was using that word in place of "slaves." Slave is, I think, a word that can be used without necessarily sounding racist. I used to work at WalMart, but my friends and I all called it SlaveMart. It was not a racist comment, but more of a comment on the practices of management and of the corporation at large. But then why didn't Aunt just say slaves if that's what she meant? It certainly would have made for more comfortable dinner conversation and would have been highly effective at conveying her feelings about work.

Later I remembered an incident from my aunt's life that might possibly explain her derogatory attitude. As a direct result of the actions of a black nurse in the maternity ward, my aunt's guts came spilling out of her stitched-up (stapled?) body a few hours after her caesarian. She has never properly healed from this, and has always always ALWAYS blamed that black nurse who gave her an attitude, wouldn't listen, and chose to manhandle her instead of asking her what was going on or even reading the damn chart. So yeah, I can kind of see where some hostility might come in. On the other hand, that was one nurse, not an entire community of people.

Then something else happened that night. I was talking to cousin R (female, age 24), who is D's sister, and her friend N (female, same age). Their families grew up in the same neighborhood that Aunt (and all my father's immediate family) grew up in, the same neighborhood we were sitting in that night. And this poor Hispanic neighborhood (poor being subject to interpretation) is in close proximity to an equally poor black neighborhood of local fame. I'm talking about Fifth Ward, which, for all those who listened to rap music back in the early nineties, is home of the Geto Boys rapper Willie D. (This is back when everything did not have a Z at the end.) This is a tough neighborhood, let me tell you. Some would call it a ghetto and some of the houses would certainly qualify. Lots of crime, lots of gangs, lots of parents who don't care.

So I'm talking to R and N. They had taken two children, ages 4 and 5, to a nearby Chuck E Cheese earlier that day. We talk about what it was like, and basically I hear a 15 minute diatribe about the atrocious parenting skills they found there. The complaints are about specific families, not one group or another, but all the families talked about are black. This mother watched her child push my niece off the merry-go-round and said nothing. That child kept pushing my son. I had to stop another child, age 8, who was beating a younger boy senseless. Another mother was looking at me, waiting for me to reprimand her misbehaving child so that she would have an excuse to come tell me off. This is the kind of thing I'm being told. And N says, "These black people, they didn't even care about watching their kids."

(Personally, I think Chuck E Cheese attracts bad parents of all races and ethnicities; I've seen a family of Mexican immigrants in that same restaurant (same location) start an argument with a black woman who was being a good parent and telling her own child to get off a ride so that the next person in line could have a turn. Same thing happens at Chuck E Cheeses all over Houston. Basically you have an enclosed location with games and pizza and a system implemented to keep children from being kidnapped whether you are watching your kids or not. It is an invitation to turn your kids loose without supervision while you sit at a table and enjoy a couple of slices. This is enticing to neglectful parents who are sick of their kids screaming about random stuff in an attempt to get attention. Some very violent kids are left to their own devices for two whole hours or more. Which is why I no longer take my children there.)

Do you see it? Do you see the social and racial prejudice at work, even among those who know better than to say The N Word? Do you see where it comes from?

There is an attitude about black people, I think, that the people of my aunt's and cousins' neighbohood have developed as a result of living near a group of people who have proven themselves to be examples of social deviance. Is this accepted stereotype an accurate example of black people in general? No. I don't even think it's an accurate example of the entire population of Fifth Ward. It is, however, an example of how the behavior of a small group of people affect the perceptions others have of a larger group. It is the reason why we all need to strive to be better people. We need to educate ourselves against having prejudices, but we also need to not spur new ones on with our own bad behavior. Stereotypes, however wrong they are, are rooted in a grain of truth. The best way to conquer stereotypes is not live up to them.

Signs in Houston

The other night as I was driving to a Cub Scout parent's house, I passed one of those little taco stands on wheels. There are a LOT of these in Houston, particularly in lower income areas. This one caught my eye because of its name: Taqueria La Panza Feliz. Translation: The Happy Belly Taco Stand. Seriously, how can you not love a little food stand or casual eatery that calls itself The Happy Belly? If it hadn't been dark out, I probably would have stopped there and had a couple of fajita tacos.

Insomniac Movie Review: Yours, Mine & Ours (the remake)

Yours, Mine, & Ours (2005) Starring Dennis Quaid as the Admiral/Dad and Rene Russo as the "free-spirited" (read: modern hippie) Mom, with Rip Torn as the Commandant and Linda Hunt (remember that short little principal in Kindergarten Cop? Yeah, her!) as the family domestic assistant

MPAA Rating: PG

Again I say, Not As Good As The Original.

But then, the original had Lucille Ball. You can't expect just anybody to walk in and fill Lucille's shoes. So it's okay. Also, the original comes off a bit dated now (which it is), so some of the jokes don't seem quite as funny. Also: the original has more focus on the parents and how they relate to each other and the new children. The remake has more focus on the kids, how they get along (or don't) with each other, etc., with parental focus being mainly on differences of opinion about child-rearing and soothing the nerves of their own children (but only the youngest ones).

Do not misunderstand: I did like this movie. It was cute in some places, silly in others, and it's always nice to see children and teenagers feuding in a non-violent way before learning to get along by ganging up on someone else in an equally non-violent way.

Also a plus for the kids: plenty of slapstick humor. Maybe not an adult's idea of smart cinema, but it's still funny to see all the weird stuff that ends up all over Dennis Quaid. Poor guy, I hope he got paid extra for all that. Especially the stuff with the pig. (I'm not even kidding. You'd think actors would say "No, I draw the line," but evidently swine kisses are on this side of Quaid's line.)

Unfortunately, it seems as if parts of the story that should have been left in for flow are left out for time constraints. I understand that; you don't want the movie to drag on and on. But it just seems like...something is missing, I guess. The story suffers for it. And you can feel it in the way the movie is edited. I'd have expected a little better from director Raja Gosnell, but my expectations are higher because I loved Scooby Doo 2 (which he also directed). Then again, I suppose I should blame the editor.

One more complaint: Most directors understand that when filming, it's important to make sure that your leads look beautiful/handsome at all times, unless they're part of a sight gag involving whipped cream or similar. Unfortunately, there is one scene in particular when Rene Russo (who really is a lovely woman), just looks awful. This is especially bad because it is clearly a scene in which she is supposed to look stunning, but the lighting highlights the lines in her face. I suppose it's because the scene was filmed outside (at least I think it was) and direct sunlight is nobody's friend. Still, there are lighting tricks you'd think Raja Gosnell would have pulled out of his hat. Since it is supposed the be this "Big Moment" in the film, in which Admiral Dad falls in love with Hippie Mom, it's kind of important that she look good. (Yeah, you can call me shallow for this. I know it seems that way. But you can learn a thing or two from listening to the director's commentary of Gary Marshall movies, which are always fabulous, and this is one of those things.)

So, other than a few minor complaints, I would say overall that this is a good movie to watch with your family. Also: rent the original (available on Netflix). Very cute, fun movies, both of these. (But really, how can Rene Russo hope to fill Lucy's shoes, even if she does have red hair?)

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.