Movie Review

There are tons of spoilers in the post- so if you haven't seen Premonition and you want to- go away.

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I watched the movie Premonition last night. A friend and I sat down and popped it in. It looked really intriguing- and I really like Sandra Bullock and neither of us had seen it, so I thought it would at least be entertaining. 

So Not

I hated it.  It made me so mad.  I mean, a movie with a stupid ending... whatever. I can get over that. But this movie had so many plot holes and inconsistencies that even 15 hours later it's still grating on me (hence, you get to read about it).  I love movies. I love fiction- you know that- and movies ARE fiction.  But the big thing about fiction is that you have to have suspension of disbelief.  If you are doing things that I just can't- even in my imagination- agree with, then you're done for. I tried so hard to give them the benefit of the doubt but I couldn't do it.

She wakes up on Thursday and goes about her day in a usual manner... then gets the dreaded cop at the door telling her that her husband was killed yesterday in a car accident involving a semi. She goes into shock- understandable- and wakes up the next day... oh no, it's not the next day.  It's three days before. She wakes up Monday to find her husband alive and well and a little out of sorts with her.

The next day she wakes up and there are pills in the sink and all the mirrors in the house are covered.  Why? Because her daughter has horrific slashes all over her face stitched up with what can only be described as shoe laces!  It's disgusting (and I know that the medical field is a little more advanced than that.  hello Frankenstein). They head to the funeral and she makes the funeral home people open the casket- but they don't want to... but the TWO bungling men pull the casket out (without that rolly stretcher thing that they carry caskets on) and drop the casket.  It pops open and her husbands head goes rolling.  THAT WAS SO STUPID! That would NEVER happen!

The next day... I don't even care what day it was- it was back in time, her daughter ran through the sliding glass door (because all 12 year olds are *that* stupid and strong) and gets the cuts on her face... but... it's Tuesday... wouldn't she have had the cuts on Thursday when they find out the dad died?

It all goes on from there- I don't even want to talk about it any more.  The wife was crazy.  The husband was a sleaze and the grandmother and best friend were crap for having her committed.  Her husband just died.  Of COURSE she's going to be a bit loopy.  But they think that she cut up her daughter.  Apparently in their world sliding glass doors are instantly repaired and the grandma just assumes that the mother just cuts the kid's faces up before asking what happened.

Don't get me started about the ending...

Ugh... so so SO stupid. Although I don't regret movie night with my friend and the intellectually stimulating conversation the movie created, I'll never get those two hours back   Just like you wont get the time back you wasted reading this post.

Another One Bites the Dust

I think there is something wrong with me.  The older I get, the less likely I think it is that I will get married.  I mean it. I'm not just being the "oh poor me" Bakeshow.  I can't imagine a good date with anyone, let alone wanting to spend not just life- but eternity with them. Yikes.

When I was younger,  I thought I'd been cursed. Anyone and everyone I made friends with, got snatched up pronto by the love of her life and was hauled off to married land (which, lets face it, is different no matter how hard you try to make it the same). 

You know the old saying, "Three times a brides maid, never a bride." Well I've only done it two and a half.  Wendy, nearly 13 years ago, Amanda, almost 11 years ago, and Heather (this was the half... she didn't really have bridesmaids, but I counted myself as one cuz I picked the song to walk down the aisle to and held her bouquet as she got married), who is closing in on 10 years.  Aside from those three, I have had friends drop like flies as they meet, mate and move on (or away). 

note* I have for a few years now, boycotted weddings.  I'd attend the occasional bridal shower, but rarely, oh so rarely would I attend a reception.  (Sorry for those of you whose weddings I missed. I'm over myself now)

I thought I'd cured myself of that curse.  All my friends are either married, or seem to be terminally single like me and rather set in their ways.  Today one broke the mould.  Lisa Carter (my Forks buddy) and her sweetie pie, Matthew Witt were married this morning.

I'm really very happy for them... and not at all jealous. Ok, like 90% happy and 10% jealous. It was  funny as we sat around listening to the sweet old man performing the ceremony,  I looked around the room, mostly strangers to me, and marked the reactions.  Many were smiling.  I noted those who were crying: Me (of course), The Bride's Sister, the Groom's Sister-In-Law (she's pregnant, maybe it was just hormones), the Mother of the Bride (a little bit toward the end) and the Father of the Bride (the whole way through... it was sweet really.) Which is why I'm 70% happy and only 30% jealous.

I have known Lisa pre-Matthew and post-Matthew. She is so happy. I remember when they first started dating and she had the I-can't-wipe-this-smile-off-my-face look for a long time.  I had never formally met Matthew, but I knew who he was and what his personality was like.  So when I found out it was him that she was dating... I knew she was doomed (to happiness) and that it was just a matter of time. Slowly, slowly over the months she has slipped away into her new world.  Which is why I'm 60% happy and just 40% jealous.

It's been a while since I've been to an actual marriage ceremony.  The last one was my little brother two and some change years ago.  I used to be surrounded by weddings.  My mom made most of the town's wedding  cakes when I was a kid and I helped, so I was always around weddings.  I always dreamed what mine would be like (it's changed several times over the years) and at one time thought of one day owning a reception center (at the time, Pocatello really needed one-  all we had to choose from was the church gym or Juliet's Plaza -which was just an old church gym that a rummage sale threw up on).  Which is what makes it easy for me to be 40% happy and 60% jealous.

Just kidding. I love you guys! congrats and good luck! 

And Kudos to you who caught the "Friends" reference.

Worthless

I applied for a temp job... and didn't get it.  I don't know why I spent tens of thousands of dollars going to college just so I could leave unqualified for even brainless jobs.  My last job- I was the only person with a degree, yet I was on the bottom of the totem pole- just under the high school drop out.

If I had to do it all again... would I?

Not if you asked me today.

Surviving Mother's Day

You remember last year's post for Mother's Day?  Well, this year was so much better!

I was bound and determined not to go to church, but darn it all, I really like going to church.  So I put on my brave face and got ready. In my morning prayers, I said something along the lines of, "Heavenly Father, please make it so I don't have the desire to punch anyone at church today."

It was a miracle! I guess my ward is famous for having overly sappy Mother's Day programs. This year the youth were in charge. I was afraid it would just be a slightly more grown up version of the primary musical extravaganza from last year.  But Mother's Day was hardly mentioned.  I mean, it was mentioned, but it was not dwelt upon and slathered in our faces and forced down our throats and in our ears and pounded on our heads.  It was nice.  One hour of church without wanting to punch anyone? Check.

Sunday School didn't even mention Mothers.  We talked about the children of Israel wandering in the desert.  Two hours of church without wanting to punch anyone? Check.

Relief Society was about abundance an obedience.  Great lesson... NOT about Mothers!  Even the songs we sang were not about mothers.  I would have stood up and screamed if we sang "Love at Home" (a few of you know how I loath that song) but I didn't have to.  Three hours of church without wanting to punch anyone? Check.

I went home to the house smelling like heaven.  I had a pot roast in my freezer so I'd put it in the slow cooker and came home to its glorious aroma.  Mashed potatoes and gravy anyone? Ah... I called my mom and talked to her for a while, then ate my incredible made-by-me-but-tastes-like-mom's dinner.  Then I watched medieval themed Disney cartoons that I haven't seen in ages.  The Sword in the Stone, and Sleeping Beauty.

I also sat around being very grateful for my mom... and for the fact that I am not one.

Head-Scratchers

A couple of things I've been mulling over:

Last week in Breckenridge we stopped for lunch at an A&W.  The inside was not typical for all the A&Ws I've been in lately.  It had a big sign about Jesus, pennies with crosses punched in them, and pamphlets all over the walls.  That's not the confusing part.  There were also Menorahs, the ten commandments written in Hebrew, and some Shalom song playing on the radio. Are they Jewish? Are they Christian? Are they trying not to pick sides? What the heck? 

A couple of days later, I was walking in a group of people and noticed the shoes of the girl in front of me.  She had on one brown shoe and one white shoe.  They weren't the same style (you know, like in the 80s when we'd wear Keds of different colors?) or even the same type of shoe.  One was not a medical shoe- there was a hiking shoe and a running shoe. Was it a fashion statement? Was she trying to prove a point? Did she just get ready really fast and that was the best she could do?

Last night on The Biggest Loser, *spoiler alert* Sam went home. I was really sad because I really like Sam and Koli. I was hoping that just one team would stay intact for the final four.  When they showed him at home, Sam said he'd moved and gotten a new roommate that we might recognize.  He moved in with Stephanie (who was sent home a few weeks ago). For some reason it really bugs me... to the point that I had dreams all night about TBL. Why? I don't give a rat's rear about Sam or Stephanie. I don't begrudge them happiness.  Or do I? Am I jealous that A. they both look amazing now after only a few months? B. that love came so easily to them? or C... there is no C.  What is my problem?