Bird Box, The Favourite, Vice, and more…

You know how sometimes you hit the Netflix jackpot? Or when there are a ton of good movies to see? This is not that time for me. I’ve been striking out. Bigly. (Please note this is just my opinion, if you liked any of these – bless your heart).

Bird Box – I like Sandra Bullock. I’m a fan. I watch The Lakehouse whenever I randomly find it. I even liked that movie she did with Ryan Reynolds, or was it Ryan Gosling? I don’t even mind that she’s had massive amounts of plastic surgery. I plan to follow suit at some point. But this movie… come on. Have you seen it? John Malcovich is in it for god’s sake. Sarah Paulson too! I don’t want to ruin it for anyone, but there aren’t really any spoilers for the movie. You’ve already seen it right? If you have and you like it… why?? Tell me please! I’m just going to say a couple of things… 1) there weren’t enough birds in a box for me. I mean it’s not meant to be some under the radar title. It literally tells you how these people will survive. The birds in the box will help them. But when? Where? It happened once. Once. Come on. I need more. 2) You cannot row a boat for 3 days with a f’ing eye mask on! With two kids. You can’t. I can suspend a lot of disbelief. Like a lot. I like Hallmark Christmas movies. But this was crazy. And not the kind of crazy I can get behind, like the Bent Neck Lady crazy. Omg, did you watch Haunting of Hill House? If no, do it now!

The Favourite – yes I’m spelling it right. I had high hopes. I love everyone in it and it was about 68% good. It wasn’t awful. But it’s not my favorite. 🙂

Vice – after you get over the usual Christian Bale weight gain, which is no-doubt impressive, it’s an ok telling of the Dick Cheney story. The fact that it took 2 plus hours to tell an ok story was also a negative. Go for a nice walk instead. You’ll be happier.

Homecoming- I had high hopes. Julia Roberts, Bobby Cannavale, what could go wrong? Hmmm, how about everything. The butter in my fridge is more interesting.

This is why I’ll be watching reality tv, Food Network, and make-up tutorials on YouTube. They never let me down. Everything else is for the birds.

Make-up or no make-up?

This is what I asked my husband last night. I’ve been with him for a long time. I’ve asked this question many times. The answer used to be,” whatever you think” or ” no make-up”.

Last night the answer was a strong and decisive,”make-up”.

Damn.

I didn’t say a word. I was going to put make-up on anyway. But damn.

To his defense, this is a guy I haunt daily about clothing choices. T-shirt’s with words people… an entire wardrobe full of t-shirts with words. Do you feel my pain? So I’m not exactly innocent. I let my true thoughts fly all the time. We’ve been married over 20 years – we have tenure now. I can say a lot of things without penalty, right? Maybe not.

This post was supposed to be about our 2018. Out good times, our bad times. The ups, the downs, etc. But instead I’m hyper focused on the fact that I’ll probably need to wear make-up to bed now. Like that wife in Marvelous Mrs. Maisel that goes to bed looking perfect so her husband is none the wiser. Jk. I don’t care that much. I care just enough to bitch about it and publicly shame him.

I hope you all had a great holiday. Here’s wishing everyone a wonderful New Year full of joy, laughter and love. Now go put on your face and get to it!

Ps – don’t bother telling me he’s wrong and I look better au natural. I’ve seen the pictures. The gig is up.

Werk

We had a very fancy event in Palm Beach. Went to beautiful places where even the dogs don’t drink tap water. A place where crazy sports cars are the norm and your morning workout is literally on the ocean. 



But there are other pics that tell another story… like this one. We were playing,”how many boxes can we fit into a sedan with 4 people and a driver?” The answer – all of them.


How about the fact that the majority of time at this fancy place we were in the back. This is my fav pic. Taken by one of the planners on our team. Thanks for the memory Patty.

Or this one which really is how we all feel onsite (girls don’t worry about how you look in this pic. No one reads this blog anyway).

Lots of memories for sure. 

Like when I tried to get a pic of Barron Trump playing soccer with the secret service and was kindly asked by another secret service dude to stop and delete all pics (I followed half his direction).


Or how about our Orthodox chef trying to take a fully blown-up pool flamingo back on the airport shuttle. I don’t know the end of that story.


Or our last night at the event by the ocean when almost every single person was singing and laughing and smiling – including our team. 

This was the view I had all last week


This is my view today. Guess which one I love more? Home is where the heart is. It’s also where my bed, tv and magazines are.


And this guy. 

Signs that I’m growing as a person?

It’s Girl Scout cookie time. 

Talk about a cause that we can all rally behind. 

For years I’ve been a devoted follower/subscriber/supporter. This year was no different. Except for one thing.

My usual lean on Thin Mints has diminished a bit. All of sudden I’ve become a bigger fan of Lemonades. 


It’s shocking. Lemon? Over Chocolate? Could this mean tarts over cake? Pepsi over Coke? Just kidding, I actually can’t tell the difference between Coke and Pepsi. I’m a monster. 



I’m also a judger. I’ve always silently but wholeheartedly believed that people who choose lemon dessert over chocolate are somehow…suspicious… up to no good. Or they were Grandmas. Let’s face it – there is a correlation between age and lemon love. There just is. 

So what happened to me? I’m still youngish and kind of full of vigor. I dunno! I can’t explain it. I’m just all about the lemon now.

Maybe it was Beyonce’s last album. Or me finally breaking down my bias and reaching across to the aisle to better understand my fellow humans.

A chocolate fan is not better than a lemon  fan. Lemon lives matter! 

Whatever. Atleast I’m still better then the peanut butter cookie fan. What a freak.

Christmas past and present and presents and presence

I get a little weepy about things on Christmas morning. Weepy in a good way. Actually I get weepy all the time. There’s an oatmeal commercial that brings me to tears. An oatmeal commercial. True story (and off you goooo…) but I digress. 

With an 18 and a 13 year old it’s not exactly the magic of Santa that I’m trying to keep alive – even though their presents don’t show up under the tree until the night before – it’s the magic of all of us being together doing the same things, creating our family stories. Going into NYC on Christmas Eve to be with family, driving back at midnight, waiting a little bit and then sneaking all the gifts down. Waking up on Christmas Day, opening the gifts, going out for Chinese food and then a movie. This year we added to that day and had the best Christmas dinner with friends (onion pie, lasagna and dessert!). I wish I could slomo the day. Or have it on repeat like A Christmas Story on TBS. It’s 11:18 and I don’t want it to be over yet. 

It all goes by too fast, Ferris Beuller was right. I’m trying very hard to stop and look around. But all I see are babies getting big…so I’m just gonna go right back and live in the past for a bit. Just for a second. It’s my gift to myself. 
I hope you all had a very merry weepy holiday too. 









It’s begining to look a lot like I’m late decorating for Christmas.

Are you still eating Thanksgiving leftovers? Are you still in a turkey coma? I hope everyone had a good holiday. Here’s a couple of pics of the last of our turkey which went into some pies. Our pot pies are one crust only – which caused a lot of controversy in our house at first. No bottom crust? Crazy. But now everyone’s in line.

img_1460img_1467I know it’s December, and I know everyone has moved onto lights and trees and stockings hung by the chimney with care – but I’m a little behind. The leaves are still falling in our neighborhood and my dead mums are still by the front door. And guess what – I don’t really care. The plaque on the door still says Gobble Gobble and my mantle is still living in the past too.

This weekend is it. I’m on it. I need to make the move. The switch. Goodbye rotting, half eaten pumpkins! Hello Christmas. Can’t wait! Well, I mean, I can wait just a little.  I’m not doing it today. I’ll do it tomorrow. When I say weekend I mean Saturday. Sunday tops.

This cab smells like bad breath

I stayed in midtown Manhattan last night for work. Walking distance from Penn Station. This morning, instead of walking a block over to take the speedy subway back down to work – I decided to take a cab (Joe, I hear you calling me lazy). 

I decided that if there wasn’t a taxi around right away – I’d move on to the train. But boom. I walked out and he was there. Waiting for me. See, the universe wanted me to take it. 

Now I’m in the cab and it smells like I’m inside of someone’s rotting mouth. As soon as I got in – I wanted to get out. 

I have my head stuck out of the window like a dog but I’m pretty sure the stench is all over me. I’ll be wearing Eau de Halitosis for the rest of the day.

Just sharing.

Have a great day everyone.

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