One of the best things about living where we do is the convenience: literally anything we want is available in this city, somewhere, and most of it can be found at more or less any time and any day of the week. This creates an embarrassment of riches that finally gives me a way to make my naturally skinny—but less geographically gifted—friends jealous.
Don’t stop now – keep reading!
Offspring is adapting well to his new environment, in spite of there being little enough to like and less time to notice it.
Of course, as a mommy I don’t enjoy hearing that those beautiful mountains are lobbing rockets at him every goddamned night.
I don’t remember which trip to Colorado it was, but since at this point all of them have sort of blurred together I suppose it doesn’t matter—and at any rate, the timing isn’t the point. The point is, I came home, made a spontaneous trip to Home Depot for… something? (Again, the actual purpose of the errand is irrelevant) and came home with a Majesty Palm tree.
Because I have no sense of proportion.
I don’t know what came over me, I just saw her there and she had to come home with me.
Her name is Madge
This still isn’t my food blog.
I’ll let you know if I ever get a Pinterest-perfect kitchen. Then, maybe I can have a food blog.
Not mine—this one has counter space.
I would like to address this comment, to which I did not reply directly because I was busy accumulating evidence.
Yep, that’s him.
Now, I saw that comment and had to laugh; that’s my little smartass, doing his level best to make me look like the crazy overprotective mother[1].
Which gives me all the excuse I need to tell you just how reassuring he’s been these past weeks since his arrival at Fabulous Bagram, Afghanistan.
I’m home alone, and really dealing with it surprisingly well, all things considered.
I mean, I may have hit the craft store a little hard but in my defense THEY EMAIL ME COUPONS. What am I supposed to do, not take advantage of a super-awesome limited-time sales event?
Pshh.
Ooh, it’s been a minute since I did one of these, hasn’t it?
Look, it’s not that I haven’t been to films, or that they haven’t been worth our time… it’s more that there’s a recent trend[1] to give away less of the actual film in the trailer. More, “here’s your premise, are you interested?” and less, “here’s a showcase of scenes you can expect that basically serve as an outline for the whole damned plot—wouldn’t want you to accuse us of a twist or anything, haha!” In the former case, I hate to bring spoilers in the form of even Deleted Scenes.
Ready or Not is another animal entirely. Poor misunderstood film… I’ve seen reviewers calling it a horror and—as a paid ambassador of the horror industry—I’m disappointed in their spatter-based assumption. This was clearly a Gory Comedy, fraternal twin and kindred spirit to the Dark Comedy (which produced such lovable favorites as War of the Roses and Burn After Reading.)[2]
If you’re the sort of person who has to leave the room when your favorite character gets stitches in any other film, I give you leave to skip this one.
If, on the other hand, you’re the sort of person who is intrigued when I say you will laugh your ass off every time someone dies? Stop what you’re doing immediately and go see Ready or Not.
Then come back and check out these excellent Deleted Scenes which, sadly, didn’t quite make the… cut.
I’ll see myself out.
