Sharing Small Pleasures

I had the pleasure last night of watching, for what has to be the 100th time, While You Were Sleeping, one of my favorite romantic comedies. I truly never get tired of it. Ever. It's one of my "comfort" films. You know, those films you put in the DVD player when you simply want or need something that makes you feel good. One that you know you'll enjoy regardless of what's going on in your life at the time.

What made this time special was that I watched it with what's becoming my "go to" girl to watch films with - my nearly 12 year old. Despite having to explain what a "testicle" was, the film's pretty tame and comes by its PG rating with little difficulty. (As a side note, it's a sad day in America when my youngest daughter understands what a "ball" is and not a "testicle". Sad, sad.) Sweet, tender and funny, it's perfect for the budding romantic that she's becoming.

Ever since Rebecca left home there's been a vast, yawning void in movie watching companionship. Gone indeed are the days when I could easily suggest an impromptu sing-a-long of Buffy the Vampire Slayer's "Once More With Feeling" episode or a "Fast Forward the Film Until We Get to a Dr. Evil Scene That We Can Quote" look at Autin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me. While my husband is generally an acceptable, if not inventive, Movie Watching Partner, it's just not the same as watching with Rebecca.

My middle daughter? Well, her film watching habits mirror her reading habits, which means of course that any suggestion for lighter fare is often met with The Look. This is not a look that is designed to say "Wow. My mom sure has superior intelligence and I certainly need to emulate her in every way.". No indeed. That is not what The Look says. Trust me.

So that leaves me with the little one - the wee one - who somehow isn't so little or wee any longer. The one who doesn't roll her eyes when I suggest that it's surely time to watch Pride and Prejudice again or make me feel a bit silly that I think Viva Las Vegas might be just the ticket for the evening. She even, get this, wants to watch the special features on the DVDs with me! Not even Bec would do that.

It's absolutely lovely that she's now old enough to stay up a little too late and watch some of my favorite films with me. I can't wait until she's a bit older and we can watch all of my favorite films.

Well . . . almost.

I saw this post tonight and while my heart is so full of joy for my dear friend Kristin and her gorgeous daughter and granddaughter, those sweet pictures had me thinking of my own three daughters at the time of their birth and how it's impossible to imagine so much time has passed.

So while it's tempting to hurry time so I'll be able to watch The Matrix with my youngest, I think I'll just savor the time I have now.

(BTW: If you're interested in a great, in-depth discussion/analysis of While You Were Sleeping, check out The Sheila Variations' post on it. Great stuff.)

Just in Time for Your Workout Today

Seeing LoLCats on Bec's blog and reading Shallow Gal's comment on LOL Walrus and the Bucket led me to this:

Given the fact that my idea of exercise in the past has been generally how quickly I can turn the pages of the book I'm reading while sprawled on the sofa and the new knowledge that . . . umm . . . yeah . . exercise hurts -

I hear ya, Walrus. I seriously hear ya.

BTW, you can totally see that Walrus just wants to punch Perky Personal Trainer there, can't you?

Okay, so that's really just me and my pesky transference issues. Admit it though, the woman is enjoying her exercise just a bit too much for tolerance.

One more for good measure:


more animals

Monday, Monday

As is typical for us all here, yesterday was a useful and productive day.

Oh wait. That's right. That's in my other world.

I'm not going to bore you with my plans to tackle all of the mundane, desperately needed cleaning chores. As a general rule, I'm fairly tidy, but every now and then things (umm . . . my bathroom for instance) gets a bit, shall we say, neglected. Yesterday was the day that I was going to address that neglect.

100%.

At first anyway.

My main effort at order and cleanliness yesterday? How to best attempt to persuade my husband to clean our bath. Despite my best efforts, which of course you understand had to be subtle given the fact that he'd already cleaned one bathroom in the house, my bath remains untidy. Unclean. Unwashed. Deeply unpalatable. Also, apparently, inescapable. Damn the man for being so helpful that I couldn't feel righteously justified in asking him to tackle another bathroom.

Given the fact that I didn't clean my bathroom, one would expect, despite my convoluted and protracted efforts to escape the chore, that I'd had plenty of time to tackle the other job on my fairly small "to-do" list.

You would be mistaken.

In the corner of my dining room sits a little corner cupboard. Since I'm not too much of a seasonal "around the house" decorator, I generally confine seasonal offerings to my corner cupboard. Which works well. When I actually do it. The china on the shelves of the cupboard now includes the blue, white, and silver pieces that are specifically meant for my "winter" cupboard. No, I'm not getting a jump on the coming season - this is from last winter. I kid you not. Last winter.

Sitting forlornly as a small sign of hope never realized rests a sweet little vase my daughter purchased for my spring cupboard. A splash of vibrant green amongst all the pale winter colors. A constant reminder of my decorative inattention this year.

Time finally to rectify this decorating disaster!

Right away.

I'm committed 100% to getting this done.

Right after I clean the bathroom.

Title Trauma

Does anyone else have difficulty in thinking of a title for posts?

I thought of "Holy Crap, Look How Long It's Been Since I Posted!", but that seemed a bit silly given the fact that it's clear how long it's been since I posted. Pointing it out, particularly in a title, simply emphasizes the fact that I have absolutely no clue what I'm going to write about. The fact that statement is absolutely true has no bearing on the issue.

Maybe "Hi Again, It's Me"?

Yeah, I know. Trite. Silly. And, once again, clearly indicative of a lack of creative thought and an inability to produce purposeful prose.

"On My Bookshelf/Nightstand/Coffee Table"?

Well, that one might be okay if it wasn't a blatant rip-off of others' more insightful blogs. Then again, I could possibly live with unethical title poaching if I were reading something incredibly edifying and intellectual. I'm thinking that the chick lit fare that I've been reading lately doesn't quite qualify. In fact I recently spent precious moments before heading out to an appointment, late since I'm always late, desperately searching for something that at least looked like I might have a brain cell or two left to read in a waiting room where I was expected to spend some time. I ended up poaching my middle daughter's bookshelf where one can always find something thought provoking, intellectual and acceptable to carry in public.

You know, I don't even think she knows what 'chick lit' is. Although, let's be frank with each other - just how many books can we be expected to read to suitably enrich our understanding of the downtrodden, oppressed, or otherwise endangered peoples of the world in any given month?

Yeah. You know I ditched the book for the People magazine with Brad and Angelina on the cover the second I got in the office.

"I'd Love to Write But Things Have Been "Challenging" Here to Say the Least"?

Wordy and, come on, what a clunker of a downer. Who wants to read that? And, from an author's standpoint, who wants to be on the other end of the fallout that would surely ensue after "challenges" have been duly noted and explored? No. The "tell-all" blog and its variously easily written titles are not for me.

Well, I guess it'll just have to be . . . umm . . .

Hell. I have absolutely no idea. I'll think of something. Someday.