Knowing Me, Knowing You..and other ABBA-like thoughts

Today's topic for discussion, my little chickens...does anyone really "know" you?

Whatever do I mean, you ask? Well, let me tell you.

Unless you are a complete sociopath, you have at least 1 person you can call a "friend". My question to you - how well does this person actually know you? Is "getting to know" a person something that we gradually accomplish over time....months... years? Or can you genuinely "know" someone if you only recently met them, no matter how much time you spend together?

Case in point. (You knew this was coming.)

I don't personally keep in touch with any of my childhood friends. For the sake of discussion, "childhood" includes ages 1 to 18, okay? Anyhow, other than the occasional "Girl! Look at you!" in the grocery store, or "Girl! What up?" on facebook, I don't have a childhood bosom buddy. My closest friend in high school officially disowned me a while back, which frankly was no big loss. In fact, I've been blackballed to the point that if I use my home pc to look at her blog, a big screen pops up and tells me to "Go **** Yourself." Classy, huh. Can you believe that? And I'm such a nice person, too.

If you don't know what those little asterisks mean, go rent "A Guide To Recognizing Your Saints", as every character with a speaking role in that movie says that word at least 5600 times.

So, nobody remembers what I was like as a kid.

Moving onto young adulthood - I have one friend that I keep in touch with via facebook and this blog ("Girl! What up?" again) from my late teens-early 20's. She didn't know me before then, and I haven't seen her since 1991. Our conversations primarily consist of reminiscing about our Navy days.

So, nobody remembers what I was like as a young adult. This might actually be a blessing, come to think of it.

In my 20's, I moved back to my hometown and took a job in city hall. My circle of friends consisted almost entirely of people from my church and my coworkers. I left that job 7 years ago, and that church shortly after. I don't really keep in touch with those people much, either. The man I married at 18 left me when I was 29 (boy, now that would make a doozey of a blog post).

So, there goes my 2o's and my early 30's.

My current circle of friends have ALL known me for less than 7 years. Most have known me for less than 3. They don't know my childhood - young adult life - 20's - except for what I've chosen to tell them.

I remarried in 2003, and I think the dog knows more about me than my husband.

So, I put the question to you again, dear reader - how well do these people actually "know" me? How much of a person's history must you know in order to figure them out??

Your turn. What do you think?

Review #15 - Chaplin: The Movie (1992)

Thank you, Netflix, for your usual succinct summary:

"Through flashbacks and other nonlinear devices, director Richard Attenborough recounts comic icon Charlie Chaplin's (Robert Downey Jr.) poignant journey through triumph, failure, infamy and government persecution. The large cast of characters includes George Hayden (Anthony Hopkins), Douglas Fairbanks (Kevin Kline) and Chaplin's mentally unbalanced mother (Geraldine Chaplin). Downey's performance earned both Oscar and Golden Globe nominations."

I recall when this film was released. I was pregnant with bambino #3 (who ended up being a bambina) and remember thinking, "gee, I'd really like to see that." But, with 2 little ones at home and one on the way, that just never happened. Then my thought stream changed to, "gee, I'd like to rent that."

Okay, so going on 18 years later, I rented it. What can I say, I'm just a wee bit behind.

I went into this film knowing absolutely nothing about Charlie Chaplin. I had no clue that he underwent the Commie Curse that hit Hollywood, and for him, it lasted for decades. I didn't know he had a thing for teenage girls. Geesh, I didn't even know he was English. So this film was a learning experience.

RDJR was nominated for an Oscar and, well, he earned it. In fact, he's been nominated twice, and both times, he's been robbed. I mean, really. Have you SEEN Tropic Thunder? My man was ROBBED.

Was this film good? Yes. Was it great? I dunno. I usually rank "greatness" based upon the likelihood that I'll want to see the movie over and over. I've seen Chaplin. I really, really liked Chaplin. I don't think I'll watch it again. I would like to say that I think the film would be exquisite if it were made today, now that our hero has a little more life experience under his belt.

I'm going to give it an 8, which will probably earn me daggers from those of you drinkin' the Haterade...but I'm a scientist, I can handle it if you can dish it.

Project, Interrupted

It occurs to me that, due to The Project, I may be watching way too many movies. I'm either ordering movies, watching movies, thinking about ordering movies, thinking about watching movies, writing blog posts, thinking about writing blog posts, or sleeping.

I don't actually intend to do anything about this - just saying.

Also had to get all up in someone's grill today, defending RDJR from a slanderous attack.

Drama, drama, drama.

Review #14 - Baby It's You (1983)

Courtesy of Netflix:

"Indy auteur John Sayles co-wrote and directs this slice of life drama that follows the topsy-turvy high school romance between an upper middle-class Jewish girl named Jill (Rosanna Arquette) and a blue-collar Italian boy known as the Sheik (Vincent Spano). Growing up in New Jersey, the pair struggles to find themselves as individuals while battling disapproving parents, rivalry and other common pitfalls of first love."

So, size double-zero Rosanna Arquette scores Vincent Spano, and she really isn't all that crazy about him. First of all, if I were a 17-year-old girl, and a guy that looked like Vincent Spano walked into MY high school, I would have peed my pants. If he would have glanced at me, I would have passed out. If he had actually SPOKEN to me, I would have had a grand mal seizure on the spot. Period. So I'm not buying the whole "oh, he's so icky" act.

RDJR portrays "Stewart". It is my firm belief that "Stewart" was a figment of the director's imagination, because I was really looking for him, and he never seemed to turn up. I considered playing "Where's Waldo" with this DVD and hunting Stewart out via scene selection, but chose not to. Why? BECAUSE THIS WAS A REALLY DORKY MOVIE and I just don't think I have the endurance.

Sorry, dudes. I tried to like it. I really did. But once you wipe away the Spano-induced drool, there just ain't much left.

The big life lesson we learn from this film, dear reader, is that high school romances don't usually last once you leave high school. If this is news to you, go ahead and put this movie in your queue and get an education. Otherwise, just move on, Grasshopper.

I give this movie a 4 because Vincent Spano looks so terribly, insanely hot in a suit - and he wears lots and lots of suits.

This is Nothing to Kid About

Do you suppose that anybody's adult life actually resembles what they had planned as a daydreaming, snot-nosed kid?

When I was little, and on into my teen years, I wanted to be the following (in order, as best I recall):

A teacher
A zoologist
A teacher again
A journalist
An actress
A professional singer
A secretary
A playwright
A novelist
An actress again
A naval officer who was also a best-selling novelist

I wanted to accomplish the following:

Teach Morse code to dolphins (it was the 70's, I was a kid with a hippie for a teacher, gimme a break on this one)
Be an award-winning columnist at some really huge newspaper
Live in a big city in a really cool apartment
Be Madonna
Write scripts for Moonlighting
Sneak onto the set of Miami Vice and watch Don Johnson fall madly in love with me
Be a millionaire by 30
Have a German Shepherd

I had no intention of EVER:

Getting married
Having children
Living in a small town
Working for anyone other than myself

I think I kinda got my lists mixed up, because I've managed to accomplish everything on one of them and nothing on the others. I'll leave you to do the math.

How about you? How do your lists measure up to reality?

Review #13 - The Futurist (2005)

In the epic, longstanding tradition of thespians-turned-musicians, ala Don Johnson, Eddie Murphy and Bruce Willis - RDJR released an album in 2005 entitled "The Futurist." Don't recall that one? Well, me either. Recall Don's, Eddie's or Bruce's? Well, I do, because it was the 80's and I owned them all. Cassettes, baby. So there.

Anyway, back to the topic at hand. Yes, I realize that this is not a film, but we must consider a full body of work, must we not? So I ordered the CD from Amazon, along with the soundtrack to Sherlock Holmes for my 10-year-old, who is currently obsessed with same literary character.

Side note - wow, I can't recall the last time I bought a CD, can you?

Our hero wrote all the songs, provides vocals and piano, and probably various other sundry instruments. I am not so interested in science that I will go out to my car and get the jacket to check.

Did I like it? yes yes yes yes yes. Yes.

The music takes a jazzy, bluesy, Dave Matthews turn. The album has a sensual, indie feel to it, like it was produced as a labor of love and not for commercial appeal - like RDJR really didn't care if you bought it or not, so long as the end result sounded the way he wanted it to. That is meant, by the way, as a compliment. And don't bother trying to sing along to any of these songs, it's not that kinda record, baby.

This album makes me want rent one of those rooms at Sun Mountain with the big, fancy jetted tub, surround it with candles, and just soak while it plays in the background. It's sexy music.

Wikipedia tells me that RDJR has no intention of ever releasing another album, which is a shame. I would love to hear a follow-up.

I give this album a 9. Download on your ipod, especially "5:30", that one's my favorite. I predict it will be in my car CD player for a while.

Back From the Dead

So, dear reader - remember my post from earlier this month, when I acknowledged that certain facets of my life are dead, buried and gone - and I'm going to just accept that and move on?

Well, last night I was asked to revive one of those dead horses.

So now I'm faced with a decision. A part of me - a BIG part of me - says no. Let it go. It's not worth the effort, which I'm sure will soon become all MY effort, and I'm not up for it. I'm tired. I'm beat down. Move on with what you have and let the past be the past.

A very small part of me feels obligated to. It's my duty. I chose to be a Christian, and as such, I'm obligated to forgive, forget, and turn the other cheek to be slapped, in hopes that the offending party will see the error of his ways, and all will be restored. Obligation. Duty.

I boxed this issue up and sealed it with a big honkin' roll of mental strapping tape, because I felt that in this particular area of my life, what I WANT was never a concern- never addressed - never even mentioned. Now I feel the same way about "fixing" it. I'm obligated to - I should - but even if it's resurrected from the dead, is that what I WANT? Or will I just end up with a big, dead horse on the hoof? Can you imagine how much tape THAT'S going to take?

Review #12 - Up The Academy (1980)

Courtesy of Netflix:

"Before he waxed on (and off) as the Karate Kid, a young Ralph Macchio appeared in this uproarious adolescent comedy about a group of mischievous military school misfits forced to suffer under a sadistic headmaster (Ron Liebman). Directed by the independent-minded Robert Downey Sr., the film features Barbara Bach as a gun-toting armaments specialist and Tom Poston as an instructor who loves bed checks."

Our movie opens with a shot of a teenaged Ralph Macchio in a cute little powder-blue suit and an open-neck yellow shirt with a collar which could blanket Rhode Island. Adorable.

It all goes downhill from there.

This movie is exactly as bad as you would expect it to be. Our friend at Netflix describes this film as "uproarious", evidently not understanding that this word is not a synonym for "asinine". Take the funniest teenage sex romp 80's movie that you can think of, take out all the funny stuff, and the leftovers would be "Up The Academy".

RDJR is "Soccer Player", which appears to be the role you get when your dad is at the helm of the turdmobile. No lines, but he had that cute little flippy Scott Baio hairdo.

I give this a 1.5, for the Napoleon Dynamite dance scene and that sweet little suit. All I can think right now is-- at least it's over with. On to greater cinematic efforts, like, oh, just about any other film ever made.

Tina

Review #11 - Hubert Selby Jr.: It'll Be Better Tomorrow (2006)

Here's our Netflix info, my little chickens:

"This documentary chronicles the fascinating life story of influential American writer Hubert Selby Jr., author of such books as Last Exit to Brooklyn and Requiem for a Dream. Follow Selby's ups and downs from his years of heroin addiction to the critical and financial success of his first book. Celebrity guests such as Lou Reed, Henry Rollins, Ellen Burstyn and Darren Aronofsky share personal stories and reflections on Selby's work and influence."

Ever heard of Hubert Selby Jr.? No? Me either. But worry not, this is a learning experience! Come explore with me, dearest reader!

RDJR serves as the narrator for this particular documentary, which opens with above noted celebrities and various other artistic types alternately describing Selby as "profane" and "insane", or some variation thereof. I'm thinking this is going to be an intense ride.

It was intense all right. Of all the documentaries I've seen in my colorful little life, this one has set the bar for all to follow. A little hippity-hop jump during the bunny dance at your cousin's wedding would get you over. Future documentary makers - fall below this bar and the your work may be utilized by medical professionals to relax patients for oral surgery or cesarean deliveries.

Paint drying. Mold growing. Bunnies dusting. There was actually a 10-minute conversation about PUNCTUATION and SENTENCE STRUCTURING. Are you feeling it yet?

If you are ever told that you have 1 hour and 19 minutes left to live, rent this movie. Your last hour on the planet will feel like it lasted a friggin' eternity.

As is frequently the case, all gels in the end. You see, dear reader, it was basically explained to me that, as an American Christian with conservative political and social views, there's no way that my bigoted, dense, dank, ignorant, deluded, deceived little mind could wrap itself around the greatness that was Herbert Selby. Ah, it's all coming together now.

What a shame that a seemingly colorful life was reduced to this morphine drip.

I give it a 3, because we are early on in this glorious Project and I want to preserve my 1's and 2's (there's a Ralph Macchio flick coming up, after all).

Tina

Baby did a bad, bad thing

The streak has ended. I took a hit today.

So, I've been on this "go to the gym, get healthy, and win the physique challenge" kick at my local athletic club. I've been eating chicken and brown rice A LOT. My friend Laura calls this the "dog food diet" and I think she may be onto something. The finer things in life - latte's, Pepsi, Hostess powdered sugar and raspberry doughnuts - are not part of the Dog Food Diet, and are not conducive to my new kick. I miss the finer things.

You may recall that I said on New Year's Eve, that I was giving up my daily latte'. That was three weeks ago today.

Three. Weeks.

So, today I'm at work, in a filthy bad mood, and it occurs to me that latte's, in and of themselves, are not evil. In fact, they may be highly nutritious on a cellular level that has not yet been discovered by modern science. Man. Wouldn't I feel stupid for having denied myself this wonder elixir out of ignorance as to its positive qualities?

I also ran a calorie count for the day, and as of 5:00, had only consumed 440 calories. I'm guessing that this was a contributing factor to my filthy bad mood. Anyhow, I became concerned. What if my blood sugar dropped so low that I dropped into a diabetic coma as I was driving home, causing me to veer off the road and run into a pack of orphans picking up trash on the side of the road? In the dark? In January?

So, out of a deep-seated concern for proper nutrition and my love of humankind, I hit the espresso stand on the way home.

I wish I could say that it tasted like dog spit. I wish I could say I took one sip and threw the rest out the window into the snowbank. Oh, no, baby. It was good. It was REAL good. I sucked it down so fast I caused a temporary wind tunnel over my Blazer, causing all 4 tires to momentarily leave the ground.

Now, 90 minutes later - I'm great! Fabulous! Let's go do something! And even with my visit to the local dealer, still WAY under my daily calorie count - no orphans injured - possible miracle drug whizzing through my veins.

I swear, the things I do for science.

Tina

Review #10 - "The Outsider" (2006)

A summary, courtesy of Netflix:

"Following maverick writer-director James Toback through the process of making his 2004 drama When Will I Be Loved, this documentary provides a fascinating look at the world of filmmaking."

Ah, another documentary. Tina is a happy camper.

Let me preface my review by telling you, dear reader, that I've never heard of James Toback. Evidently he's a director of "personal films" (Woody Allen's label -who, by the way, I've heard of) rather than "commercial films". To me, this means he's probably a self-indulgent windbag. Since I don't think he's following this blog, I don't feel terribly ill-mannered for saying that.

I also have never heard of the film "When Will I Be Loved," which featured Neve Campbell, formerly of 'Party of Five' fame. Coincidentally, I don't think I ever viewed that show, either.

I know what you are thinking - this is not starting well. Hang on to your skirts, kiddos. All works out in the end.

Our Project link - Toback also directed 3 RDJR films (at least) which shall remain nameless at this time, in the interest of science, as I haven't reviewed them yet, and there may be more than 3 as I might have lost count. Okay, I confess, I really wasn't paying attention to the number of movies. Three is a guess. Geesh.

Anyhow - the first 2 minutes or so of this documentary feature several raunchy sex snippets from some of Toback's films which, frankly, I could have done without. So if you rent this puppy, skip that part. Or don't, depending on what you are into. Shame on you - what would your mother think?

If you've ever wondered what exactly happens behind that mysterious veil of filmmaking, you'd probably enjoy this movie. The film featured in the documentary was filmed in 14 days, largely unscripted, so it's hardly "a day in the life of your average superstar" deal. But I thought it was cool.

If you rent this one - watch Mike Tyson's commentary. It was easily my favorite part. Man oh man. I won't spoil it for you, but to a former psych major, it was fascinating. Like a master's thesis with an eye tattoo.

Yup, I enjoyed it. Next week, I probably won't remember much about it. So I'm going for a 7.5.

Good night to all - it's late and tomorrow is cardio day. Plus, my 18-year old daughter just strolled by and said, "YOU'RE up late" like I'm Grandma Moses or something.

Tina

Review #9 - U.S. Marshals

This one came from Blockbuster, so here's the "back of the case" summary:

"We are initiating a hard-target search for a fugitive in an ever-widening perimeter. We will navigate swamps, prowl Manhattan streets, search every house and doghouse. And since Marshal Sam Gerard leads the hunt, we will experience suspense, action, and daring twists every step of the way. Returning to his Oscar-winning role from The Fugitive, Tommy Lee Jones joins Wesley Snipes and Robert Downey Jr. in delivering adrenaline-rush excitement. The chase is highlighted by an out-of-control 727, a death match in a ship's cargo hold, a 12-story plunge onto a moving train and more heart-pounding sequences."

Well, sign me up!

My love of the romantic comedy is widely known and undisputed. Only slightly less well-known is my love of the action/adventure/cop/lots of crashes movie. And Tommy Lee Jones? Get outta Dodge. If only I had the Trio of Movie Goodness to chow down on, this would easily be the highlight of my month.

I've seen The Fugitive at least fifty times. I watch it every...single...time I see it on the dial. (I guess the "dial" reference is a bit archaic, isn't it.)

Harrison Ford: "I didn't kill my wife!"

Tommy Lee Jones: "I don't care!"

How can you not love that?

Well, this film isn't up to The Fugitive's standard, but I adored TLJ's character and am glad to see it reprised. Our hero RDJR plays an agent who actually a bad guy - that takes, oh 35 seconds to figure out - and Wesley Snipes gives another of his tax-free turns as the usual "I'm on the run but I've been framed" guy. This, coincidentally, is the same defense he offered to the IRS. Go figure.

But - there's a cool plane crash. And Tommy Lee Jones. And a bunch of cars flip over and get squished.

However, in the interest of science - I want you to experience this film as I did. Rent it, put it in your DVD player, get comfy, and hit Play. At that point, hire your next door neighbor's kid to stand next to you and say MOM MOM MOM MOM MOM MOM MOM MOM MOM for 131 minutes.

Sigh. My kingdom for 131 minutes of peace.

I give this one an 8.

Tina

Life, Liberty, and...

Today's topic - the pursuit of happiness. Not the movie.

From the time we are old enough to not pay attention in class, we are taught that, as Americans, we have the God-given right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Go grab that brass ring, little Bobby. Life is your oyster. No matter what horrible fate may beset you - you always got the pursuit of happiness to look forward to, right? It's in the Declaration of Freakin' Independence. John Hancock signed it and everything.

The pursuit of happiness. What if you don't feel like chasing anymore?

What if we aren't all guaranteed a life of happiness? What if you are destined to live an exquisitely mediocre existence?

I love the final scene of "The Ghost and Mrs. Muir." If you haven't seen this movie, well, SHAME ON YOU. Get on Netflix and add it to your queue immediately. Anyhoo, our aged heroine Lucy is looking back over her life with her longtime friend and housekeeper. The hausfrau says something to the effect of, "don't you regret never remarrying and living your life alone?" Lucy's response is, "some people just aren't meant for that kind of happiness." She then croaks, and gets to spend an eternity as a ghost with sailor boy Rex Harrison. So, in the end, I guess she got hers.

Okay, back to my point. Some people are born with illnesses, chronic diseases, blindness, deafness. Do we tell a chronically ill person, "hey, you have a right to be healthy!" Well, if you want to look like a putz, you can. We accept the fact that some people will just never be healthy and they live their lives with their condition.

How about this. Maybe some people are just chronically, unavoidably, eternally unhappy. Maybe some people live with a feeling that their destiny brushed past them one day, long ago, never to be recovered or rediscovered. Maybe some choices, once made, are irrevocable, and your happiness just doesn't mean crap after that. Maybe some people could be handed everything they could ever want on a diamond-encrusted Tiffany lampshade and they would still be looking over your shoulder to see what you held back from them.

Maybe some people just don't feel like playing "the pursuit" anymore. Maybe some people would rather be resigned to letting it be what it is.

Maybe Thomas Jefferson just needed a catchy phrase and thought it sounded good. Maybe this is as good as it gets.

Tina

Creepers at Summer Camp

Okay, this is actually pretty funny.

For those of you who are Netflix virgins, let me be the first to tell you that you can enter an actor's name in the search field and it will provide you with a very nice list of films which include said actor.

Remember how I said that my scientific film list was based upon a Wikipedia entry, said Wikipedia being highly regarded as second only to the New England Journal of Medicine for its scientific integrity? Well, Netflix came up with an RDJR movie that wasn't on Wikipedia. It's called "Stagedoor" (2005) and is said to feature "future superstars Natalie Portman and RDJR" among others.

Hmmm, I thought. However, in the interest of completion, synergy, chi, chi-ness, chi-ality, and (insert your appropriate jargon here), I added said film to my list.

Have I mentioned yet that my "list" is actually a series of 3x5 cards, which I carry in my purse, in a cool red leather card holder?

Anyhoo, back to my story. I streamed the movie (glutton for punishment, I know) and watched it yesterday. It was a documentary - I love documentaries - set at a theater camp in the Catskills, where little snots gather for 3 weeks every summer to compare the size of their angst and receive an education as to the finer arts from people with accents. Evidently there aren't enough camps like this in England to keep the thespians from skipping the pond for work.

Since it was released only a few years ago, I presumed that RDJR and the other famous types were not actually CAMPERS. They have names for middle-aged men who hang around summer camps, and that would be an entirely different type of documentary, now wouldn't it. Anyway, I figured that those listed in the summary would, oh, provide some commentary about the camp, the life of a performer, blah blah blah, something like that. So I watched and waited.

And watched. And waited. I even watched the credits to see if he was the producer or something. Guess who was a no-show?

I must say that I did really enjoy the film. If you are interested in theater and reality TV, mash those together and out would pop this documentary.

Turns out that RDJR and Natalie Portman etal are ALUMNI of this camp...and evidently some copy writer for Netflix put a nice little spin on that so that the DVD would see some action.

While I feel like I spent yesterday afternoon stalking Sasquatch, it still was a good experience - and I saw a film that I never would have viewed otherwise. And that, dear reader, is what this project is all about.

Tina

Review #8 - A Scanner Darkly (2006)

Fasten your seatbelts, my little chickens. Here's the summary from Netflix:

"Keanu Reeves shoulders another futuristic role in director Richard Linklater's sci-fi thriller based on Philips K. Dick's novel. Working as an undercover cop in a world where almost every is addicted to Substance D, which produces split personalities in its users, Fred Arctor (Reeves) sets up an elaborate sting to nab a notorious drug runner named Bob. But little does Fred know that "Bob" is....his alter ego."

So. This film is actually animated, like one of those wonky little graphic novels that are cluttering Wal-Mart shelves following the release of the Twilight series. I have no clue how one accomplishes this, but it was intriguing to watch.

RDJR and Woody Harrelson portray Fred's druggie roommates. Their interaction is fuuuunny. Good stuff there.

I watched this film for 1 hour and 40 minutes and I still have no idea what it REALLY was about. This guy is really this way, but actually he only thinks he's this way, he's really THAT way, but in the end, we find out that THIS way is actually THAT way....

A little less convolution, a little more action, baby.

Toward the end, there's a scene where Keanu Reeves throws up all over the floor. I know how he felt. By the end, I wanted to vomit from the sheer relief of not having to keep track of what da heck was going on anymore.

I give it a 6, because I thought the paranoid druggie argument scenes between RDJR and Harrelson were hysterical, and because the animation thing was kinda cool.

Tina

Review #7 - Weird Science (1985)

Well, scrunch my leg warmers. It's time to review an 80's flick.

Right off the bat, in the name of science, let me say that John Hughes films are an magical entity of their own, and cannot possibly be subjected to a mediocre 1-10 review scale. Anyone born between 1965 and 1973 has a genetic predisposition to loving John Hughes films. I can't help it folks; it's in my DNA. So do not expect me to be objective.

Plot line, in case you can't remember - 2 horny teenagers (Anthony Michael Hall and some other kid who probably is selling used cars with Gary Coleman now) decide to build themselves a human Barbie doll (Kelly LeBrock, lately of VHI Celebrity Fit Camp) to do with as they see fit. Mayhem ensues.

RDJR plays one of 2 nasty mean little teenagers who antagonize our protagonists, with an adorable little gap between his front teeth like Madonna.

I gotta say, it's a blast watching JH films as an adult. Ah, the hair. Ah, the eyeliner. Ah, the neon. Ah, the gratuitous cussing and sexual references that are completely superfluous to a plot, if said exists. So many fashion tips packed into 90 minutes of entertainment.

If you are a carrier of the JH movie gene, as defined by the scientific guidelines I have disclosed to you above, take my advice. Watch Pretty In Pink, the Breakfast Club, and Weird Science again. Just don't let your kids watch because there's too much cussing.

Side note - where, exactly, were OUR parents when we were watching this stuff at 15? Mine were probably watching Dallas and playing Tripoly.

I give this film 1 neon mesh off-the-shoulder shirt and one-half an arm's length of jelly bracelets.

Totally Tubular Tina

The Legless Wonder

You know what I think?

I think my legs might fall off.

Seriously.

I'm on day 4 of my new workout schedule, and my legs might just fall off tonight when I go to bed.

Or maybe I just WISH they would.

Actually, the only reason I'm still awake is because I don't know for sure if I can get out of my chair.

You remember in The Princess Bride, when Wesley was laying in the bed, acting all suave and challenging Prince Humperdink to a throwdown - but you really knew that Wesley was laying in the bed because he couldn't move, still recovering from being "mostly dead"? Same theory, only I'm in a recliner. I look all cute with my bathrobe and laptop, legs crossed at the ankles and watching the Discovery Channel. But I am just postponing the inevitable agony of trying to stand up.

Mostly dead,
Tina

Review #6 - Only You (1994)

All righty then.

Movie #6 is "Only You", featuring Marisa Tomei and RDJR. Tomei is a young woman who, as a child, receives word from two very reliable sources - a Ouija board and a carnival fortune teller - that her soul mate is a man named "Damon Bradley". She grows up, gets engaged to some dufus, and guess who calls her with his wedding RSVP? Damon Bradley. And we go from there.

The film is set in Italy. Let me say that my first screenplay will be filmed in Italy (Sheila will be the lead actress, of course) because I'm totally infatuated with the country.

How much did I enjoy this movie? Let me tell you. The film is 1 hour, 48 minutes. It took 3 hours to stream through my laptop. It's now an hour past my bedtime, in fact. But did I dump it? No, I did not. I watched the whole patootin' thing and buffered my brains out. Why?

BECAUSE I ADORE THIS MOVIE!!!!!

I have a short list of movies that I've seen a zillion times - Pride and Prejudice. Notting Hill. Seven Brides for Seven Brothers. Fiddler on the Roof. Mona Lisa Smile.

If you re-check my short list in 12 months, I guarantee you that this one will be a new addition.

Don't rent it. Hit Wal-Mart and buy it. I'll bet it's even in the $5 bin, cuz it's so old.

luv it luv it luv it.

On that note, I give this one a 9.

I'm going to bed. Geez, what do you think I do, stay up all night and watch movies?

Tina

I Don't See Your Every Move

Today was appointment day.

As of close of business today, I have clean teeth, a new haircut, my church's missions focus for 2010, and other parts of me examined by my doctor that shall remain nameless.

Sitting here with my laptop, I realize that I should have squeezed one more appointment in. My laptop is in my lap (wow! news flash!) and I'm having a very difficult time reading my screen.

I've noticed that my vision has been going kaput for a few weeks now. I am beyond blind (really, it's scary), horribly near-sighted, and have contacts for 30 years. My eyes "stabilized" in my mid-20's with little or no change until last year, when my prescription changed dramatically.

You see, as people approach a certain age which shall remain unstated (it rhymes with "smorty"), our eyes begin to change shape and we find ourselves becoming far-sighted. Remember when you used to make fun of Grandpa for holding the TV Guide at arm's length to see what time The Dukes of Hazard came on? That is why. Grandpa was over smorty.

Since I am horribly near-sighted, this means that my eyesight is actually IMPROVING as my eye becomes more "normally" shaped. Hence, my contacts are too strong now.

I give you this lesson in Optometry 101 to confirm what you, dear reader, have long suspected. Yes, it's true. I am improving with age.

Tina

Review #5 - Eros (2004)

The good news - I had some success tonight with movie streaming and was able to watch this movie online from Netflix.

The bad news - I had some success tonight with movie streaming and was able to WATCH THIS MOVIE online from Netflix.

So, a synopsis - "Eros" consists of 3 short films - 1 by an Asian filmmaker, 1 American, and 1 Italian. RDJR and Alan Arkin star in the American short. I don't know, and don't care, who are featured in the other 2.

Dear reader, if you ever have moments when you question the supremacy of the American film industry, please watch this movie. The Asian and Italian films were so painfully, exquisitely bad that if you didn't know better, you would swear you were being punked. They are kinda like Airplane, only not actually funny and with more naked people, and I think the foreign filmmakers were actually being serious.

The jewel amongst the thorns was the American short, which was really, really funny. I was actually laughing out loud in my living room with my headphones on, which usually gets strange looks from kids and dogs.

I would love to know if RDJR or Alan Arkin actually viewed the finished film. If they did, I'd bet a dollar to your dime that they left the theater with bags over their heads.

Rating? Man. If I were rating the American short alone, I'd give it a 7.5. However, the bobble-headed troll dolls that it was sandwiched between drag it down to a 2.


Tina

The Challenge Signed Up For Me

So, dear reader, you may recall that on Saturday I told you I have to give up junk food. Let me explain.

This morning I went to the athletic club and signed up for the annual 12-week fitness challenge. Weight, measurements, body fat calipers, the works. And my first workout is tomorrow.

I have my workouts and eating plans figured out for the duration of the challenge. I have adjusted my working hours to accommodate gym time. I have my workout journal, my books, my new workout pants, my lifting gloves, and even some only slightly worn Nikes to inspire me to greatness.

You may think I'm a raging egomaniac - and if you know me, well, you are probably right - but you should know that I'm going to win. It's not a competition, it's not a hope, it's not a wish - if I wasn't absolutely, positively sure that I was going to win, I wouldn't have entered.

So, if you want to come in 2nd, and you live in Omak - there's still time for you to go ahead and sign up. I hope you will be happy for me when I cash my prize check.

Tina

Space Invaders

I decided to go to the movies today. By myself.

It didn't start out that way. My usual movie companion had plans. My daughter was working. My other 2 kids who still live at home were with their father. That pretty much leaves the dogs, the practice of taking them to the theater is generally frowned upon.

So I went to see "Did You Hear About the Morgans?" all alone. The theater was at about 50% capacity. I settled in the perfect seat with my Trio of Movie Goodness (cherry coke, popcorn, milk duds) and told myself that going to the movies alone is a perfectly reasonable way to spend a Saturday afternoon.

Side note - At the stroke of midnight on Sunday night/Monday morning, I have to give up junk food. The opportunity to consume the Trio of Movie Goodness one last time was, in fact, the driving force behind my solo attendance - not any overwhelming desire to see this film.

Back to the story.

So, there I sit, plenty of empty seats around me. After I'm comfy, the very next people to enter the theater (two rather bulky women in Wal-Mart sweatshirts and big poofy coats) decide to sit down right...behind...me. I don't just mean in the ROW behind me. They sat DIRECTLY behind me.

Empty seats stretch out like rows of corn in Field of Dreams....but, no. RIGHT BEHIND ME.

I got to listen to the following conversation, which I memorized for the sake of science to regurgitate for you, dear reader:

LADY ONE: Who stars in this movie?

LADY TWO: What?

LADY ONE: Who stars in this movie?

LADY TWO: What?

LADY ONE: The actors in this movie...who are they?

LADY TWO: Oh...uh...I don't know.

LADY ONE: What?

Dear reader - would you shell out $7.50+ to go see a film, and have not a clue as to neither the name of the film nor the actors in it?????? Some do, it seems. You will be proud to know that I did NOT turn around and announce that we were watching "Did You Freakin' Hear About the Freakin' Morgans" which stars Sarah Freakin' Jessica Parker and Freakin' Hugh Grant. Was, however, sorely tempted.

I won't give you the gruesome details of how L1 and L2 sounded as they masticated their popcorn- I'll leave that to your imagination. Frankly, I don't want to relive it.

And yet it gets even better.

So, as the previews start, Husband and Wife come in and sit right...next...to...me.

Rows of open seats like little soldiers at Pickett's Charge....but no. RIGHT NEXT TO ME.

Sigh.

So I leaned WAY to the left, certainly causing permanent pelvic damage to myself, in order to avoid physical contact with Wife, Wife's coat, Wife's leg, or Wife's big ugly handbag that she jammed into the seat.

And to top it all off, the movie pretty much sucked. I actually would have left part way through, but didn't want to climb over Wife and Husband (in that order). Has Hugh Grant made a decent movie since Notting Hill?

Now I am just content to be in my own home, amongst my own germs, without fear of having my space invaded by someone other than those I birthed. I tell you, dear reader, I'm 18 months away from full-blown Howard Hughes. Without the money.

Review #4 - A Guide To Recognizing Your Saints (2006)

Okay, little chickens - here's the Netflix summary:

"Robert Downey Jr. stars in director Dito Montiel's autobiographical coming-of-age drama set in tough, blue-collar Queens, NY. While his young friends all seem to end up as junkies, inmates or corpses, Dito (Downey) miraculously escapes the same fate - a fact he can only attribute to divine intervention. The film's high-powered supporting cast includes Dianne Wiest, Chazz Palminteri, Eric Roberts and Rosario Dawson."

The part that Netflix leaves out - and I can only assume it's because it was written before Transformers, because duh, now he's a little better known than ERIC ROBERTS - is that Dito as a teen was portrayed by Shia LaBeouf.

What did I think of this movie? hmm.... Have you ever watched a movie that thought, "wow, that part was amazing..." only to find that the next scene leaves you scratching your head and looking at your watch? That's kinda how this movie was. One moment, I'm holding my breath without even realizing it...followed up in the next moment by a really - long - disappointing - exhale.

Shia - wow. I thought he was wonderful. RDJR - wow. I thought he was wonderful. You probably assumed I would say that, but it's actually true. After all, I'm not a psycho stalker- I'm a scientist, you know.

Rosario Dawson should get some sort of award for working the f-bomb into one scene at least 80 times. Do people actually talk like that? I was in the Navy, and I thought I'd heard it all. Evidently not.

Dianne Wiest - she's played "the mom" in every movie she's made since Footloose - opened the movie in what I think was the best scene in the film.

I cared what happened to Dito and the 2 actors who portrayed him hit the mark. But I didn't care what happened to anyone else. I don't think that's enough to carry a movie.

I give it a 7 because it's Friday and I'm feeling generous.

Tina

Pet Peeve Thursday!!

Hello, dear readers - yes, it is Thursday, which means it's time for...

PET PEEVE THURSDAY!

Feel free to share 3 of your pet peeves.

drum roll, please- Here are mine for the week:

1. People who use their answering machine to "screen" their calls before answering the phone, so you are forced to say "Hello? Are you there? Are you there?" like a total dope when calling them
2. The use of non-words like "irregardless"
3. The stereotype that all women are Jonesing for chocolate 24/7


Your turn...

Tina

going postal

So, here's the sitch.

After 7 years of working in one town and living elsewhere, I finally decided to get a post office box close to my office. I am doing this for the sake of science. How else can I pick up my Netflix movies if I'm 8 miles away from the PO during working hours?

My life's mission is to be as helpful as possible to as many people as possible (perhaps it's more of a "life theory"). In that light, I went on usps.com and signed up for my PO Box. Think of the time savings! All I need to do is take the completed form to my local post office, they give me 2 keys, and I walk out the door, knowing that I've made the life of a local postal worker just a little easier. There will certainly be a grateful smile, a word of thanks. Eyes may water up, a trailing tear may trickle down a cheek.

So, I fill out my form online, pay my rental fee, print my form, and off I go to the Post Office. I present it to the guy behind the counter, who spews, "Oh, you did this ONLINE??" in the same tone you would expect the words "You ran over a WHAT?". At this point, I wrote off the possibility of the trailing tear scenario.

Turns out that if you sign up for a PO Box online, it totally screws everything up at the local post office. THE COMPUTER arbitrarily assigns your box number, which discombobulates the local numbering system (said system consisting of a bunch of numbers written on a piece of paper dating from the Truman administration). Not only did I FUBAR the whole thing by filling out this form, THE COMPUTER didn't even assign my number, which should technically constitute a partial un-FUBAR in my book.

So, I get the next box number off the magical paper, THE COMPUTER is dissed, and off I go. I promptly contact my bank, credit card company, Netflix, Amazon, my insurance company, and various and sundry others to inform them of the change.

Lo and behold, I be-bop home with my new post office box keys to hear on my answering machine, "hello, we need you to bring your keys back, because THE COMPUTER has assigned you a different box."

You can imagine the rest. Back to the Post Office. Sob story about how I've already informed everyone that I've changed my address. Pointed out that I'm a veteran. (You never know when that might be useful). Am informed that yes, I can keep my "incorrect" box number if I cancel my account, request a refund, and then re-apply for the specific number. Of course, I'm have to pay a PENALTY for early cancellation of my box.

I can keep the number that was assigned to me the DAY BEFORE if I PAY A PENALTY for CLOSING MY BOX before the end of my rental period.

Let that one run around in your head awhile, dear reader.

So, got my new box number, made some more calls. Too late for Netflix, they've already sent my next RDJR movie to my "old" number. The postal worker is going to try his darndest to make sure it doesn't get RETURNED because it's ADDRESSED INCORRECTLY. It seems that THE COMPUTER lacks short-term memory and won't recall any of this TOMORROW when my movie arrives.

Run that one around too. Take your time.

On that note, it's Wednesday night. I'm off to prayer meeting and grocery shopping.

See ya around the block,
Tina

Make a decision, already!

So this is what I've been thinking about today.

For a while now, I've allowed certain circumstances that suck, yet are beyond my control, to determine my mindset.

I'm sick of it. This isn't who I am, or who I want to be.

So, here's what I've decided:

Decision 1 - There are facets of my life - okay, one LARGE facet of my life - that is draining my energy, and frankly, deteriorating my health. I will accept the fact that this area of my life is dead, there's nothing to do about it, and I'm not going to put any more time/thought/energy into it. I accept the fact that it is what it is, and I will not continue to pretend that everything is fine. If others choose to focus on this issue, that's their decision and will not affect me.

Decision 2 - There are facets of my life that are wonderful, joyful, exciting and beautiful. I will focus on those areas. if others do not feel that those areas are as wonderful/joyful/exciting/beautiful as I do, that's their problem and does not affect me.

Decision 3 - Decisions 1 and 2 will not be so popular with everyone, including some people whose opinions I value quite much. They will attempt to dissuade me with arguments that will sound very convincing. In fact, I may lose the respect and/or friendship of some of these people. While unfortunate, I accept this as inevitable and will move on with my life accordingly.

So, there you have it. That's how my day went. How was yours?

Tina

Review #3 - Heart and Souls (1993)

Ah, so Ms. Postmistress brought me my first Netflix movie today. It's the one I attempted to stream the other day, much to my displeasure and disgruntlement. But enough discussion of that recent unpleasantness.

Did you know that Netflix puts this sweet little sticker on the DVD jacket, summarizing the movie? How handy for us movie reviewers/scientists.

So, here's what Netflix says:

"Hollow-hearted yuppie Robert Downey Jr. gets hot-wired to the ghosts of four people who died as he was being born. Their time in limbo is drawing to a close, just when his girlfriend (Elisabeth Shue) grows tired of his commitment phobia. To fend off being dumped, Downey must help the phantasmic four (Tom Sizemore, Kyra Sedgewick, Alfre Woodard and Charles Grodin) fulfill their final wishes."

I enjoyed this one a lot more than I thought I would. First of all Alfre Woodard can read a Shoney's menu and make it sound like Maya Angelou. I love her voice and her manner. Secondly, I loved the fact that Elisabeth Shue wore a red dress with red tights and red shoes. Man, don't you miss the early 90's?

One detail left out of the netflix synopsis is that the four ghosts can jump into RDJR's body, ala Patrick Swazye and Whoopi Goldberg. Watching RDJR sashay around and kiss his boss on the top of his head during the middle of a business meeting, while being possessed by Kyra who was feelin' her oats - priceless.

Okay, it wasn't exactly Citizen Kane. But it was fun, and again, better than I thought it would be.

I'll go with a 7.5.

Until we meet again, my little chickens -

Tina

No way, latte.

For those of you who have been waiting around, pacing like a health care lobbyist on Capitol Hill, waiting to hear about my morning....

NO. I did NOT buy any sort of espresso product today.

But I did eat half of a really stale donut. I don't know why, exactly, other than I was really Jonesing for caffeine and said donut was sitting there mocking me with its powdered sugary goodness.

My parents both smoked for 30+ years and quit cold turkey. I can do this. I can do this.

Post-script: recieved first Netflix movie today. Quite excited.

Review #2 - Sherlock Holmes (2009)

Oh, this is sad. I was just putting the finishing touches on my review, and I accidentally deleted it.

This never would have happened on paper.

Anyhoo - the show must go on, correct? So here we go again.

For those of you who have been living on Mars for the past few months, and therefore missed the media blitz - RDJR and Jude Law made a little movie called "Sherlock Holmes" which was released right around Christmas 2009.

I was sure I'd LOVE this movie. Now that I've seen it - I LIKE this movie.

The relationship between Holmes and Watson was portrayed beautifully. I don't think RDJR and Law could have been any better. There were lots of fight scenes, chases, and explosions, which are 3 of my very favorite things.

Then we come to Irene Adler. "Who" you ask? Therein lies the problem.

Irene Adler - portrayed by Rachel McAdams, lookin' way too much like Sheena Easton circa 1985 - is utterly forgettable. We are supposed to believe that she and Holmes have a "history", but chemistry between them is zilch. I think Rachel fell flat in her performance, but to her credit, she didn't have much to work with. A little more focus on developing her storyline would have been nice. Her scenes, to me, felt like they were forced into the screenplay with a shoehorn and frankly just threw the film off its focus.

So, although I'd really love to give it a 9 or higher, I gotta go with 8.5. Sorry, dudes.

Tina

A Mom's Duty

I've been thinking about my son a lot lately.

My son, Chris, is a very quiet 20 year old. He's taller and thinner than me, and I think he's handsome. I wouldn't say he's shy; instead, I think that it just doesn't occur to him that a conversation would be an appropriate thing at any given time. He would be quite content to spend the entirety of his day in front of a screen of some sort, be it the TV, computer, or game console, while taking the occasional bathroom/meal break.

My son is also currently sitting somewhere in the vicinity of the Bagdad International Airport. He's a soldier, and he's at work.

I try not to follow the news; in fact, if I hear anything about Iraq, I intentionally shut down and go someplace else in my mind. I don't want to hear about how many people were killed. I don't want to hear about civil unrest. I don't want to know that more/less troops are being sent over. I don't even want to hear anything positive. I just don't want to know, so don't tell me.

I get an e-mail from Chris about every 3 to 4 weeks. It usually consists of less than 100 words, in which he tells me that he's bored and everything is fine. These e-mails constitute all of my contact with my son.

I haven't spoken to him on the phone since the day before he shipped out, which happened to be a Saturday afternoon. My 40th birthday had fallen on the prior Wednesday. When the phone rang, I knew it was he, because nobody ever calls me - especially on a Saturday afternoon. Our conversation was stilted, broken, awkward. We both knew that once certain words were said, that the entire call would break down and that would be that. So I bit the bullet and said the things that I knew, as Mom, it was my job to say. I told him how proud I was of his decision to join the Army, that God protects His children, that I loved him and would miss him. Then, of course, came the tears.

I don't know if you know what it's like to just sob on the phone, if you know how it feels when your world just stops and you can't speak, all you can do is cry. Let me assure you, dear reader, that it sucks. As emotional, as gut-wrenching, as shattering as the phone call was, the hardest part had already occurred several weeks before.

We had said our "goodbye" in person about a month before when he came home on leave for 10 days. I took Chris to the bus station - which in our area, consists of the parking lot of a mini-mart that's gone out of business - and waited for the bus to show. We both tried to make some small talk about the trip - "I hope the bus isn't too full" - "Do you have any cash on you to buy snacks?" - but again, it was stilted, broken, awkward. When the bus did show, Chris was the only person to be picked up, so there was no delaying the inevitable. I held my oldest child, told him how proud I was of him, how God takes care of His children, how much I would miss him and that I loved him. And then came the tears.

My son sobbed in my arms and all I could do was join him. Instinctively, I rocked him back and forth in my arms and rubbed the back of his neck like I always had when he was a child. I knew that optimistically, I would see him in no less than 7 months; pessimistically, 13 months. Once I let go, that would be it, and he would be gone. So I did my duty as a Mom - I let go first and sent him to the bus.

I let go first.

Who would have ever thought that a single action, taken during a moment of a mother's acute pain, could be so haunting?

If, God forbid, anything should happen to my son while he is in Iraq, that is what I will remember. I let go first.

I let go first.

Review #1 - The Soloist (2009)

Well, here it is. My first official review....

I just finished watching The Soloist, which stars RDJR and Jamie Foxx. The film is based on a true story, which for me is always a plus.

RDJR is LA Times reporter Steve Lopez looking for a story. He stumbles across homeless, schitzo musical genius Nathaniel Ayers (Jamie Foxx). Lopez, in his attempt to both make a living and to "do right" by the homeless guy, proceeds to "improve" Ayers' existence by getting him a cello, lessons, an apartment, etc...most of which are not well received.

I liked this movie because RDJR's performance was so on-spot and Jamie Foxx was, well, amazing. In fact, it seems like just about everything Jamie Foxx has done lately is amazing, isn't it.

However, dear reader - the film takes the easy way out in the area of faith (ain't it always the way?). Thanks to Lopez, Ayers ends up in a large homeless shelter/services facility. There's a large florescent Bible verse on the wall, and no other mention of Christ. That makes the people who work in this shelter the "good" Christians. Conversely, there's the obligatory "nutso" Christian, complete with fish symbol on his cello case and crappy tripe dialogue you'd expect. I can't remember the actor's name, he was Mr. Collins in Pride & Prejudice - so he has the "creepy" factor to enhance his image. So typical.

On a scale of 1-10, I'd give this movie an 8.5.


Post-script - let me just say that it is completely unfair that RDJR has the most amazing eyelashes I've ever seen, and he's a guy. I, on the other hand, look like I've been suffering from amoebic dysentery for 6 months if I don't put on 2 coats of mascara immediately upon rising in the morning. Heavy Sigh.

Netflix? How about NOTflix?

So, in the interest of science, I signed up for Netflix and immediately filled my queue with RDJR movies. I now have 52 on my list. Unfortunately, Netflix doesn't have every movie on the Wikipedia list.

Did you, dear reader, get that? NETFLIX DOES NOT HAVE EVERY MOVIE ON MY LIST. This caused a temporary blip on my radar, similar to that feeling you get on your way home from work on a holiday weekend when you remember that you have about an eighth of a roll of toilet paper left to last you through said holiday weekend. But, alas, do not worry. I have 364 days to locate the other (quite obscure) movies. And I bought 24 rolls of toilet paper yesterday.

Much to my surprise, Netflix had a few films which were NOT on my Wikipedia list, so I hereby add them to the Project. Most appear to be documentaries.

Anyhoo....

Whilst waiting for my first movie to arrive in the mail, I thought I'd try streaming a movie. This option is available on, oh, 8 or so of the films. Since there's nothing on TV today except football, and I am anxious to make my contribution to science, I picked one from my queue and hit "play".

Dear reader - as you all know where I live, and most of you live in very close proximity - if you are a Netflix member, and have this option - please don't frustrate yourself as I have. Learn from my mistakes, Grasshopper.

I selected the movie "Heart and Souls", released in 1993 and classified as a "romantic comedy." I made it halfway through before I decided that I either needed to give up the streaming thing, or I was going to launch my laptop out into the 6 inches of snow in the front yard.

Suffice it to say that my internet connection is 'inadequate' for this Netflix feature. THE LAST 5 MINUTES I WATCHED TOOK 30 MINUTES TO STREAM. Not conducive to a pleasurable viewing experience, let alone scientific research.

I won't say another word about this film, and what I thought of the part I actually got to see, until I get to watch the whole thing in my official review. Am seriously considering a trip to Blockbuster so I can see the rest...assuming that they are open today....hmm.

What I will NOT do is get my meth in a cup from my local barista. My willpower is iron. Steel. Diamond. Unmeltable at any temperature which may be acheived on the planet Earth. If his espresso stand were actually OPEN today, I would be able to demonstrate this by casually driving by on my way to Blockbuster without stopping.

ahem.