the sordid details of my ryan reynolds breakup

I’m not the blogger that generally gives movie reviews, or reviews of any nature for that matter.  Primarily because I really don’t think anyone gives a shit about my opinions about movies or music or art or what have you.  I don’t really even give a shit.

However, tonight? Tonight I witnessed the most horrific display of cinematic refuse I have ever had the misfortune of experiencing.   Quite frankly, I have some feelings;  some emotions, if you will, that I need to get out.  So please, dear reader, don’t approach this moment as an  Ebert-esque review.  Let’s just be honest, this is a chance for me to rant and rave and publicly break up with my long time secret boyfriend for the monstrosity that is… (duh, duh, dummm…) Buried.

{Now is when, if you are planning on disregarding all of my obvious negative feelings about the show and watch it anyway, you should stop reading.   Because, in all truth here, if you watch this movie and like it, we can no longer be friends.  If I am willing to break up with People’s Sexiest Man over this film, I sure as shit am willing to dump your ass on the side of the road with nothing but 50 cents and a corn dog for supporting it.  Period.

I am now about to tell the story line, the plot, the character development, the costume, the casting, the WHOLE enchilada… including the fucking ending.  SO DON’T read on if you are crazy enough to want to watch this idiotic movie on your own – and care about the end.}   SPOILER ALERT. (blah blah blah)

Buried begins in total blackness with some heavy breathing which sounds suspiciously like RR.  Not a bad start… this could go somewhere.  Except of course that it’s called BURIED.  SO I should have known better.  My bad.

It then goes through a series of events that reveals Ryan (I can’t even remember what his character’s name is in this movie – because I don’t freaking care!) has been buried alive by Iraqi insurgents (or something) while being a contract worker in Iraq.  They have kidnapped him and want ransom from America (because that ALWAYS works).  Two long and excruciating hours later, he is almost rescued but then is dead.  Seriously, that is about how it goes.

There’s a snake that he was completely unaware of for half of the movie that suddenly crawls out of his pants leg and he has to fight it off.  There’s a cell phone that he’s using while pleading for his life with some of the most ignorant and annoying people to ever walk the earth. There’s a wife that conveniently leaves her cell phone somewhere on the ONE DAY he needs her and wants to say good-bye from his coffin.  There’s some other useless crap that builds suspense and leads you to believe that MAYBE, JUST MAYBE there might be hope for this poor pansy ass that can’t come up with a way to dig himself out of a shallow grave.  But in the end, it’s all just CRAP.

He dies.  He dies without trying to fight.  He dies while everyone else bugs the shit out of you.  And he dies while help on the other end of the cell phone runs to a buried coffin (that a fellow kidnapper lead them to) only to discover as the last grain of sand chokes out his life,  that it’s some other poor sap that they’ve tried this scam on before.

There is such a lack of depth and purpose and creativity to the whole thing that I just want to KICK MY DOG!  At least Tom Hanks had the sense God gave a turnip to make friends with Wilson on the island to give us something to work with on that one.

The best part?   I know for a fact it cost $5 to produce this film. The entire thing takes place in a box made of rotten, re-purposed barn wood.  There is a cell phone, a zippo and a pocket knife (all belonging to the director,) and there is Ryan.  The major cost was a flash light that must have come from the Dollar Store because it only worked 27% of the time.

I hate my husband for making me watch this, I hate RR for even reading the script, I hate Sandra Bullock for her high pony tail in the Proposal and I HATE THIS FUCKING MOVIE.

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my bitch is in heat. what? she IS!

We have this two year old dog that is just the BEST dog ever!  She’s my guard dog- you may remember a little story about how she saved my LIFE last year.  She’s also the best kid dog- she lets the kids ride on her.  She also senses paranormal activity.  Why wouldn’t I want to let her procreate.  I’d take three or four of her!

When we first got Eva (named by the Little Miss after the lady robot on Wall-E which was huge when we got her) we waited a little too long to get her fixed.  Money was a little tight and it wasn’t a huge priority.  Then as we got to know her and love her, we thought it might be fun to let her have pups… maybe.  (Keep your judgy ASPCA comments to yourself if you don’t agree with this.  I’ve been known to knife a bitch for less.)  Then we met a male dog we decided would be her soul mate… or at lease make babies with her.  SO- it was settled… the dog wasn’t going under the knife any time soon.

Eva’s gone into heat twice before.  It’s never really been a big deal.   She hasn’t lost her mind all that bad and we’ve avoided unwanted suitors.  Then… this month happened.

THE BITCH LOST HER MIND!!!  She has scaled fences in a single leap.  She has run and run and run as only Forest Gump could inspire to find her man and do her thang.  She is a whore.

And she’s found someone.  He’s a… wait for it… mutt.  *GASP!*

He circles my house.  He stood with his front paws on my window sill, nose pressed to the cold glass, eyes clouded with testosterone – looking, panting for his lady.  It’s freaking COLD outside right now and that dog has spent the past two days and nights circling my house like a piranha, waiting to devour my little lady.

And she… is a maniac.  She runs circles around the house.  Living room window to back door to garage to upstairs window to- HOLY SHIT.  She is looking for a window to jump out of to go and get herself plowed by a damn mutt!  Has she no dignity?

I called Hubby today to tell him what was going on and he said, “when I get home, I’m going down to talk to his parents!”  And then it hit me…

This is what we’ll be going through in about 10 years with the Little Miss.   {Please dear Baby Jesus in a Manger let it be ten years! PLEASE!}  Oh my God.  The boys will be lined up in the yard and circling the house like rabid dogs and my baby will be perched up there looking down deciding which mutt she’ll choose and her daddy will be perched in the garage with a shot gun and I’ll be racked out on the couch with a bottle of wine and a Xanax.

This is not good.  Tomorrow… the bitch gets spayed.  (The dog… NOT the Little Miss.  Jeesh!)

even my kids are brilliant

A good friend of mine recently started a site for moms and dads to share the entertaining quips about our kids or those nutty little things only they can come up with, and it’s awesome! The site is called ToddleToots and is as adorable as the stories they feature.  I especially love their section on Fridays called Friday Flashbacks. It’s a great place for moms of a little older kids to share some of our favorite memories.

The site recently asked its community to ask our kids what their new year’s goals are and share them with one another.  I thought this was a fabulous idea!  Especially since I’m such a fan of the new year’s shennanigans myself, and I thought for sure my kids would come up with something fabulous!  Even though I was expecting silly and crazy, they came up with some surprisingly brilliant ideas.

In case you haven’t been keeping track, my little darlings are seven and five.  They are not darlings.  They are usually life-sucking plankton that are out to kill me.  I still love them.  So, I started out by explaining what goals are and why it’s important to set them, blah blah blah.  The Little Miss (7) quickly told me this was way too much like school, too hard for her to understand and she needed to get back to organizing her JustinBieberathon of posters and books she got for Christmas.  (I don’t make this stuff up.)   I asked her to stick around and listen to her brother’s to see if maybe it helped her think of anything.

My Little Man (5) quickly said “I want to be nice and not grumpy and earn mostly smiley faces on my calendar so I can get rewards.  Then I want to have some peace and quiet and then maybe go sledding a lot.  Is this how it works Momma?”  (If you know this child you now understand why the Apocalypse is upon us.)

The Little Miss then decided to play along (probably since I was on the floor passed out from the shock of my Little Man’s adorably thoughtful response.)  “I want to throw a big party so everyone knows how much they are my friend.  Then I want to start doing more nice things for other people – and not just worry about myself.   I’ll start by shoveling snow for people  who can’t do it themselves.  Then I’ll think of more things.  Maybe I’ll start making cards and sending them to people to tell them I’m thinking about them and hope they are doing good.  Oh- and I wouldn’t mind getting some new shoes.”  (That’s my girl!)

Thanks  ToddleToots for inspiring such a fun and thoughtful time with my kiddos!

 

the beginning of the end

You may have been aware of a little phenomenon called the biggest mega millions jackpot of the freaking forever that went down yesterday.  People were going ape shit about it.  I’m serious.

There were people lining up at every convenience store and seedy gas station all over the country to try to get their hands on the $355 million prize.  I had no freaking idea about it until I picked up some chatter about it on my Facebook.  There were plotters and schemers everywhere.   Losers.

My sister-in-law agreed to pay off my mound of debt to my in-laws if she won.  No strings attached.  Apparently, she’s in the mood to give freely so I’ll let you know if she wins anything in the near future.

I’m not usually a lotto follower.  I only bought my first lottery scratch ticket a few months ago.  It was from the lady I buy my vodka from.  Rachael.   I told her it was my first time and to make it special, but alas, I won nothing and now every time I go see her she pretends not to know me. Story of my life.

I honestly don’t think I’ve ever bought one of the tickets you have to watch the news for.  Or however they report the numbers nowadays.  I just tell my hubby to stop in whatever small town hell-hole he happens to be driving through that day for his job.  {He’s not a trucker.  And he’s always home at night so don’t try to mug me in my sleep.  Plus, we have a guard dog.}  Which brings me to my story…

The other day I was out running errands and while parking my car at Walmart I thought to myself, “When I win the freaking lottery I will never have to come to this gorforsaken place again.”   (I NEVER think things like, “when I win the lottery.”  EVER.  promise.)

Then, as I said, I heard the lotto chatter on FB.  At first I was joking with my SIL’s telling them I was going to send their brother out right away to our neighboring butt-hole of a town called Ephrata to buy the ticket because it is just the type of town people always win in.  Losers.

Then, I realized that the Hubbs would probably be driving through about 7 skanky towns in the middle of nowhere yesterday afternoon and he should just definitely stop and get a ticket.  I mean, I had just been daydreaming of winning the lotto so that must be a sign.   I call… no answer.  So I text.   No reply, but whatever.  He is always on his phone so I rarely hear back.  I was sure he’d stop.  He’s a total sucker for things like that.  Loser.

So the night goes on and I continue to ridicule people who are going all ga-ga over the mega millions fortune.  I just happened to ask the Hubbs if he got the ticket – which he failed at. So we hop in the car and run to the closest gas station.  We live in a pretty skanky town so I was sure the mo-jo would be just as good around here.

Then, it happened, the clerk refused to sell me a ticket because it was three minutes passed the time for tickets to be sold! I died a little inside.  My days of pushing a cart around Walmart are destined to continue.  Damn this town!

So then I wake up this morning to find that the winning lotto ticket was purchased at a Safeway in none other than… you guessed it, EPHRATA! THE EPHRATA!  Yep.  I’m not even shitting you.

I promptly contacted a divorce attorney because I know this is destined to be the beginning of the end for us.  I mean, every time he forgets to pick up a loaf of bread I’m going to lose it and scream and yell about how we wouldn’t even be in this position if he would have just picked up the damn lotto ticket as he was driving through EPHRATA when I called him!  God.

life lessons of a lunatic

{I’d like to apologize in advance for the wonky formatting of this post.  I tried to edit something from my iPhone and it totally screwed everything up.  If you’re the type of person to be bugged by that I’m so sorry.  And if you aren’t that type… well you probably are now.  I’m too tired to fix it.}

I’m starting to think maybe I should change the name of my blog from improperly forward to insanely formidable. I’m just a little on the coo-coo cachoo side lately, and well, I’m always difficult. 

For the past few years I’ve made a habit of looking over my year and remembering some important life lessons that I’ve learned throughout the year.  So, I’ll put my crappy little attitude aside and hopefully come out of this science experiment a bit more chipper and better for having done some self-reflection.

1) This past year started with the Hubbs and I finalizing the decision that I would quit my state job at the local community college and return home to spend more time with the kids- especially the little buddy, who was fed up with 10 hours of daycare and needing some Mommy and Me time. Unfortunately, we have to be a two income family right now, so to make that happen I decided to open a home daycare. I had no idea what the heck it would mean for me. No idea if I would like it. No idea if I would be remotely good at it. Turns out… I do, and according to the poor parents who
employ me, I am.  There are days, as with any job, that having a brood of children hanging off my every limb is a little taxing. But if I’m being honest, it completes me, a la Jerry McGuire. This isn’t my life-long career path, folks.
But it’s paying the bills while I make sure my son makes it to kindergarten and beyond as unscathed by sub-par daycare workers and pre-school teachers as possible. And it cures my baby-fever. And I feel satisfied. So… I learned that I can surprise myself and succeed at new ventures that are daunting and HARD work, just like I could in my twenties.

 2) A continuation of #1. I have become a pretty decent housekeeper since making being home my full-time job. I’ve also become more in tune as a mother and wife. Both make me proud. Even though it also makes me regret not making this job more of a priority when I had the opportunity to be a real Stay at Home Mom and not so much a Work at Home Mom, I’m thankful for the opportunity to be having a second chance of sorts. I learned that viewing my responsibilities of caring for my husband, children and, in that my home, with the perspective that this is my job and part of what I was put on this earth to do, I feel extremely proud and fulfilled by doing just that. (So much better than laying around on the couch watching TV in a
food-induced coma of depression for days on end.) That might sound a bit June Cleverish for the modern woman, but… meh, I don’t care.

3) A particularly tough lesson that I’m in the middle of learning is that being a person that doesn’t conform to the popular opinion is so not the accepted persona in most circles. I’m a pretty independent thinker and certainly not a “go-with-the-flow” type of a gal. I’m learning this makes the average bear
a little on the uncomfortable side. Though I’ve known these things about myself for some time, I’ve recently been faced with the decision of whether or not I’m going to compromise qualities I’ve spent a number of years growing into or stick with who I am and chance not being the prom queen of society. I’m so pleased with myself that I’ve learned it’s okay to not always be the prom queen. Those taffita dresses are pretty uncomfortable and I hate wrist corsages anyway.

4) Wearing my heart on my sleeve is a sure-fire way to get it stomped on.
Nuff Said.

5) The last lesson is a very personal one and out of the ordinary for me to talk about in such an open and vulnerable forum, but I committed to review some of the lessons that are most prevelant in my thinking today, so here it
is. After years of avoiding testing this theory, these past few months I’ve learned that God really does wait for you to come to a place of knowing him- in your time and in your way. I love that after years of having a fortress of fear and hurt built around myself, if I quiet my soul and decide I want to let the tiniest of cracks be formed in those walls, someone will be there with a bit of love and peace just dying to seep through to my “heart” (or whatever.) There are so many people in this world that walk around with their big King James Bibles and pockets full of judgement and evangelism just willing and ready to lead the whole dang world to salvation, whatever that even means.
There are so few people that just love their neighbors and live life. Despite a superiorly impressive degree in Theology (insert sarcastic eye roll here,) I have learned that I am content in knowing absolutely nothing about  theology, and learning the tiniest bits of truth about love and peace  wherever the opportunity arises. I’m thankful I choose to have a faith that allows me to seek that in whatever way I desire. And even though it’s
probably a little taboo to say so, I’m really thankful for a god that allows me to love him in whatever small and pathetic way I know how. And I’m thankful as hell that he loves me back – despite how pathetic I am. So I learned that, and it feels pretty good.

Which brings me to this… my resolution or goal or whatever you want to call it for 2011. Some people poke fun at resolutions (not me, I would never
be so childish,) but I am actually a firm believer in putting into writing the things that matter most to me (shocker.)  So, here it is.

In 2011 I resolve to find a new level of peace in my person as a whole. In order to do that, there are some things that I need to do. This is the start of a working list which I’m sure I’ll tweak periodically.

I will make time for myself. (In order to exercise, have quiet time just for me, go out and have fun with my pals, whatever.)

I’ll not take things too seriously.  I’ll continue to remember not to wear my heart on my sleeve and not to let my feelings be hurt by the trivial.

I’ll continue to let my guard down so peace can find it’s way in.

{Thanks for taking a break from my usual improperly forward way of
doing things around here. This blog is me. While most of the time I’m a fun-loving, self-depreciating, sarcastic bitch; sometimes I’m a deep, thoughtful person. Not to worry, programming will return to its usual vodka induced
tom-foolery shortly.}