Dawson's Creek: Season 2: Disc 3 (1998). I really hate that practically every single depiction of teachers in movies and television shows is negative. It makes me think that all producers were really wild kids growing up that led their teachers to go crazy and do some mean things to them. Which would make sense if you believe that most movie producters probably have the same creative/storytelling personality type.
Hotel Rwanda (2004) = 10/10. Yup. The coveted 10. I think I'm pretty much the last person to see this movie. I cried about 8 times. It's really hard for me to fathom one million deaths. Specifically, where the hell did those corpses go? I can't believe that people put all of them into the earth. Based on that unfounded logic, in my mind I imagine the terrain of Rwanda now as being bones covered with a mere 12 years worth of natural sediment and vegetation. Sad and ick.
The Merchants of Cool (2001) = 8/10. So, I read a Fark-linked article about this documentary and how this documentary was viewed by one mother as "pure pornography." I got curious, and found out that my library has a copy of the PBS Frontline show. "Porno for free at my library???? This is gonna be aweosme!" Yeah, that mother might need to get out a little more if she believes any part of this documentary was pornographic.
End of the Spear (2006) = 4/10. And this is a good example of one of the many hesitations I have with missionaries whose sole purpose is that of proselytizing.
Not so long ago, I prized my Saturday mornings. It was a time to do absolutely nothing, sleep in. Preferably until after noon. For the last few months Doug has come over on Saturdays anywhere from 11:30-2:00. Before the Doug arrival hour, I was generally found getting in an extra cardio session at the gym or with Shelby on the trail or doing a PUSH session. I might wake up at 9:30 or so to do this. Not noon, but still within the realms of acceptable in the sleeping in world. Since I was all caught up on PUSH and cardio, my plan for today was that I was to sleep until Doug called to tell me he was on his way. At which point I would run like made so that I would be presentable for him (i.e., shower) for his immanent arrival.
Imagine my shock and disappointment this morning when I arose bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at 06:30. I looked at the clock and decided that there was no possible way I was getting out of bed at that hour. So, I dozed unsuccessfully until 07:30 and climbed out of bed. Much was accomplished in the way of apartment cleaning. I think it was around the time I was Swiffering my kitchen floor at 9:00 when I realized that cleaning before noon with a smile on my face definitely makes me an adult now. Sleeping until noon may very well have been my last string to adolescence. Sigh.
Next Wednesday, I leave for a fun-filled week in Chicago with my family. They're already en route in hoopty + camper. I have definitely decided that I do not need PlaneWrap Feet Wraps. Nor do I need a WonderVase. But what kind of person would? I find both of these travel items odd.