Alexander (2004) = 3.5/10. Let me save you the time--this movie is really boring. What possessed me? Angelina Jolie, of course. Maybe I would have been more interested in the movie had I known anything about the real Alaxander the Great or if I liked action/fighting/blood movies. But I don't.
The Dukes of Hazard (2005) = 2.5/10. Aside from Jessica Simpson being extremely hot and a few cool driving scenes, this movie was just awful.
Herbie: Fully Loaded (2005) = 2/10. Two car movies in one day was enough for me.
Ahhhh...baby showers. Few other joyous events can make me feel so crappy about myself. I had already woke up on the wrong side of the bed (whatever that's supposed to mean) that morning and things were just going to get worse.
Imagine yours truly (that's me!), waking up at 9:30, lounging around waiting for the party to start at 3:30. I managed to drag myself into the bath at around 1:45, close enough to the shower so I would still have that fresh face look. I look at the invitation only to find OH CRAP!!! it starts at 3:00 instead of 3:30. I have 25 minutes to get not nekkid, put on my face, do something with my mop of hair, gather up all of the accesories for the diaper cake, and find the place. AAAHHH! That all worked out fine.
So, I get there. It's a gated community, the house tucked away in a semi-cul-de-sac. Hmm...the person who lives here must be A's grandmother or someting since it's a big nice house. Nope. The owner was under 30, under 110 pounds, gorgeous, AND had it immaculately decorated. "Ok," I think, "She's probably a bitch, then?" No such luck. After all, she IS throwing a party for A and A apparently thinks the world of her. A wouldn't have crappy friends. It's not like I thought my apartment was wonderful or anything, but I haven't even made the slightest effort at buying a cheap house.
During the two hour shower, I am surrounded by three pregnant women, two of whom I am friends with. And although I'm sure neither of them meant it, the two rather hurtful comments/looks weren't helping my self-esteem for the day. Let's see...something about how my clothes are all old. And then the rolled eyes I received when I told C that the name she has chosen for her child in utero is on the possible list of most popular names in 2015 in the book Freakonomics. I'm pretty sure she scoffed at how nerdy the title sounded. Well, my bad that my interests lie outside pottery and scrapbooking, two things that require hand-eye coordination and creativity. Those are two things don't have.
So I'm already feeling bleh about not having a huge house (or even a house), not having a traditional family yet (because apparently we're all supposed to make babies and get married under the age of 25 here in Oklahoma), but I do realize that I am very happy with my life. Something I'm not sure most people can say. The thought consoles me for a bit.
I come back to my apartment and check the mail: three Netflix, yay! Electric bill...boo. A...Christmas card from...an ex-boyfriend? Maybe he can impart some wit into my bleh day. Instead:
He's basically saying I'm ugly, right? I mean, I can get over the fact that he sent a card. We do still email and whatnot. Fine. But to give a girl a card like this given our history? Just not a nice thing to do. And while I would like to think he simply chose the card based on wit alone and meant no hard feelings, he's not a moron. In fact, I'll bet he knew exactly what he was doing when he sent it. Honestly, I almost cried when I read it. Which is probably what he wanted. I'm giving in, dammit!
What other trivial thing could go wrong? oooooh ooooh, I know. Accidentally dropping my best pair of tweezers down my toilet. After trying really hard with a wire hanger for about 5 minutes to get it out, I decided it wasn't going to work and dove in. The tweezers were tossed, the hands were bleached.
The much needed upcoming vacation to Vegas beginning on Friday (unless there's bad weather or something else happens) is much needed!