Protected

Every morning when I step out of the shower...




It's entirely possible he just likes the warmth of the steam. Or the sound of the water running. Or the fresh, clean smell of my shampoo. Or the caress of the fuzzy green bathmat.

But I choose to think he's guarding his mama.

And yes, I have to step over him, precariously, every time I exit said shower. Which would be awkward even if I weren't wearing a towel, balancing on wet toes and squinting to try to see without my glasses.

And yes, it's entirely possible that I have, more than once, slipped and nearly fallen headfirst into the linen closet. And/or out the window.

Do I mind?



Nope.

Have a wonderful long weekend, y'all. And please say a prayer for me, as I'm attending an event that has the word "beer" in the TITLE, and I am not much of a drinker. Also I'm 33 now, and thus a little old for all drinking games that don't involve how many times someone says "Woohoo! Big balls!" on Wipeout. In other news: ...help?

I take it back, Hollywood

For the past few years, I've been ragging on Hollywood for having NO original ideas.

Honestly -- it seems like nearly every movie I've seen or heard about in the past three years was a remake (and sometimes of an original that wasn't very good in the first place) or the movie version of a book (ditto).

For the past three weeks, whenever I turn on my TV, it's resting on Showtime -- which is INEVITABLY playing this movie:


I'm not kidding. At least eight times in the last three weeks, I wake up, turn on the TV and am greeted with this:

Here's the synopsis of the movie: An evil business executive {ooooh!} (played by George Lazenby) {...who?}, is releasing dangerous toxins {just...randomly?} and the Barbarian Brothers {...} set out to stop his evil work {presumably with their synchronized hair-and-pec-flipping routine}.

After its fourth surprise appearance, I decided the fates apparently wanted me to check out this movie. Thirty seconds in, I decided the fates apparently hate me. Oafish, non-acting twins? Check. Annoying, wish-they-were-Macaulay-Culkin, non-acting younger twins? Got it. AMAZINGLY bad early-90s clothing and hairstyles? Quadruple check. Plotline that makes ABSOLUTELY no sense, and yet somehow is featured constantly on one of the supposedly "premier" movie channels? OH heavens yes.

If this is what Hollywood does when left to its own devices, I owe it a giant apology. Remake The Honeymooners 'til the cows come home. Do a new, preachy version of The Goonies where a gang of kids fights Corporate America and saves the dung beetle. Make a new Pretty Woman for the geriatric set starring Gene Hackman and Dame Judy Dench.

There's no use thinking for yourselves, Hollywood. I see now what can come of it. Just go back over there, stay pretty, and keep churning out those Twilight movies.

:)

Moments That Remind Me I'm Old, Vol. 1

Conversation overheard between two young girls, about 9 years old, at the public pool this weekend:

Girl #1: I love these Silly Bandz!

Girl #2: OMG, me too! {Yes, she actually said "O-M-G."}

(Pause)

(Girl #1 steals a glance at a group of 9-year-old boys getting ready to vault off the diving board)

Girl #1: I have to do something about this.

Girl #2: For real?

Girl #1: Uh, yeah? Totally? I can't just, like, sit here or whatever!

(Girl #2 fist-bumps Girl #1)

Girl #2: You go on, girl!

(Girl #1, bolstered by these words of encouragement, walks slowly by the group of boys, makes eye contact with one of them and exchanges shy smiles, then scurries, giggling, back to her friend.)

***********

When I say moments like this remind me that I'm old, I don't mean that I can't remember being a "tween" and acting this way around boys.

In fact, I remember it so well, I had to turn around in the pool to hide the fact that I was giggling to myself.

What made me feel old? The moment I realized that my last "tween" experience happened more than TWENTY YEARS AGO.

Gah!

I pick up my walker with the tennis balls tomorrow.