(lazy blogging at its best)
- So I got free tickets to a preview screening of Dear John. Much as I hate to admit it, I do have a bit of a weakness for Channing Tatum. I know, shoot me already, right? One word (or three) of advice – DON’T SEE IT. Complete and total waste of time. So dissatisfying…kind of like the first time I had meringue. I bit into it expecting light, creamy, fluffy heaven – and got sweet Styrofoam.
- It’s now been a month since we moved, and got Sky TV. I still think it’s a waste of money. But you gotta compromise in a relationship. He gets to watch stuff on Discovery/History/CI, and I get to watch Food Channel… but I digress. The LL was a little worried about the installation – what if they damaged the roof while putting on the aerial? T assured him they wouldn’t, and if they did, they would HAVE to fix it. All went fine – it now sits pretty atop their garage instead. BUT the man drilled too far into our bathroom wall, gouging out some of the plaster. And it’s taken a full month and far too many frustrating phone calls to get it fixed. At least I can now cross that off my list. (To their credit…Sky were excellent about following up once I filled out my “new customer” service survey and firmly requested a repairman.)
- I am waiting on some invoices to be paid. That money is earmarked for a) an eye test and new contacts and b) beefing my savings back up. *taps foot impatiently*
- Please, can someone invent an all-around pill that cures ezcema and hayfever? Thanks in advance. I think I can safely say I’ve gone through a rainforest’s worth of tissues this month. I’m not a fan of wiping my nose on my sleeve, but neither am I a fan of deforestation.
- I’m on a bit of a DVD kick. There was Gone with the Wind, Boy in the Striped Pajamas, The Wrestler (just plain depressing) and now Inglourious Basterds, (oh how it pains me to type that out every single time), aka Tarantino at his best. It is so him, from the soundtrack to the douchebaggy shifting of the glass on the French guy’s table in the first part. And that is how you make a movie: not by adapting a Nicholas Sparks book, tossing in Hollywood’s latest beefcake, and hoping for a hit.