How to Keep Your Weird Wife Happy and Informed

1. When her beloved TiVo breaks, and you have to get out the ancient VCR, help with the transition:

2. While watching Dr. Who, season 6, if your weird wife is having a hard time visualizing timelines, help her out with a hand-drawn diagram. Important: Before you come to your senses and help her in the friendly manner you excel at, stating that “It’s not that hard to figure out” is not the best first approach as it will unleash an expletive-filled verbal lashing. While she does understand you don’t mean anything by it, it’s still kind of an assy move.

3. On a weekend, when you all have planned to see a movie, like you do every weekend, and you’ve looked up all the showtimes and ran down everything that’s playing and even sometimes looked up all the reviews because your weird wife is also a weird lazy wife, get your day started off right. Since your weird wife doesn’t trust her own memory when it comes to time, write everything on her hand so that you don’t have to answer the same question 10 times before it’s time to leave. Hand is best, she will misplace paper.

The Girls Who Wouldn’t Shut Up at a Movie Tattoo

I love going to the movies.

This weekend we went to watch The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo (No, I haven’t read the book. We were going to get the audio book for our drive to N.C. over Christmas, but Tom didn’t want to “spoil the movie”).

The movie theater we like to go to is an eat-in theater that serves meals, and drinks in cups without tops (just establishing this for later). When we got there, 15 minutes early, as usual, we got our nice seats in the middle and settled in. Shortly after, two women sat in the row behind us, a little to the left of Tom:

They were chatting at full volume. The movie hadn’t started yet, but there were things on the screen (ads for Justified are the only thing I remember because I love Justified). I usually get a sense for when people are going to be a problem. There are types who talk loudly until the movie starts, and then settle in and behave like proper humans. Then, there are people, who, you can just tell. You can hear it.

These are the things proper humans tend to talk about before a movie starts, even if it’s a little louder than I would talk:

Person A: Hey! How’s it going? Did you find the theater ok?
Person B: Yeah, it was fine. How are you?
A: I’m good. I’ve read good things about this movie.
B: Yeah, Sally saw it and said it was great.
A: How’s Sally? I haven’t talked to her in a while.
B: She’s good (PREVIEWS START) (now whispering) I’ll tell you after the movie.

These are the kinds of things I hear “problems” talking about at full volume before the movie starts:

Person A: Do you want to get some popcorn?
Person B: I don’t know, the last time I had popcorn I got terrible gas.
A: Well we could have something else, maybe some nachos.
B: Yeah, that sounds good. What size?
Five minute conversation about size of nachos.
B: My hemorrhoids are killing me.
A: How do we tell someone what we want to eat?
Five minute conversation about that.
Five minute conversation with the waiter about the size of nachos.

Basically, nothing can be thought inside the brain, everything has to be said out loud. And, I know people who would have these types of conversations for all to hear, but would still shut up for a movie, so these movie talkers are very special kinds of people.

Here are a couple of hints to let you know if you are perhaps the type of person I’m talking about:

–    If, once the previews start (meaning the lights have gone down), you in no way speak any quieter than you were when the lights were on and nothing was on the screen. Or, you continue to speak as if your friend, who is inches away from you, is in another movie theater.
–    If you were watching The Chipmunks: Chipwrecked instead, and the 4 year olds in that movie would have shushed you because you were distracting them.
–    If you are talking so loudly and constantly after the movie starts, that when Tom turns around and asks you to be quiet, you don’t hear him.

Yes, Tom asked them to be quiet and they didn’t hear him. The reason we know this is because when Tom asked them the second time, loud enough for everyone to hear, and during a moment they both miraculously had stopped making noise to inhale oxygen, they shut the fuck up.

There are people who talk loud and don’t care – those are assholes who enjoy being asshole-y and get off on the fact that they are making other people miserable. Those people, at least, I “get.” Then, there are the oblivious types. As Tom put it, “I understand serial killers better than I do these types of people.” They are like toddlers who don’t understand the concept that if they close their eyes, other people can still see them. They don’t get that other people also have ears that can hear their voices. They treat the movie theater like it’s their living room. These people were like that.

How? How do people become 40+ years old and not understand the idea that a. people go to the movies to hear and watch the movies and b. not everyone gives a shit about what you think is happening in the movie, particularly when you are WRONG. “There’s a gun missing!” No, there’s not. “That’s her!” No, it’s not.

We were once stuck behind an old couple who took turns reading the opening credits. One time, when my sister and I went to see “Chicago,” at a sold out show, a lady (who had come late and asked her grown son to explain the movie up to that point) answered her phone and proceeded to chat at full volume, then left early, like some sort of shitty angel sent to “touch” everyone’s lives.

These are people who very well may be delightful people under any other circumstance, but they are not people who were made to sit through a movie in a public movie theater. Perhaps they do know what they’re doing, and they just think no one will call them on it, but I think that’s giving them too much credit. Often times, when I lament others’ lack of courtesy, it’s pointed out to me that perhaps it’s not that people do it on purpose, it’s that they just didn’t “notice.” To me, when it comes to certain kinds of movie talkers, I’m basically having to give them the benefit of the doubt that they’re morons.

They did completely shut up when Tom loudly and sternly asked them to be quiet. So, luckily, we didn’t have to hear constant commentary of everything that happened in The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo – and if you know anything about it, you know that the content is uncomfortable enough to watch without two idiots behaving as if nothing happens unless they repeat it verbally in their own words.

Once the movie was over, and it was time for everyone to leave, the two ladies stood up, and one of them knocked over their cup full of ice and beverage, and it spilled all over the carpet. Because, it just makes perfect sense that she would do that.

Writer’s Block

Introduction.

  • Scooting your chair forward with conviction does not, unfortunately, release a waterfall of hilarious and revelatory prose. Poopcakes.
  • Scratching your head does nothing but qualify you for a dandruff shampoo commercial.
  • Pacing only increases the risk of tripping over your cat.
  • Staring at the wall only leads to noticing cobwebs and spots you missed while painting.
  • Going to play Words with Friends, getting 60+ points for the word “puked,” and then glancing around and beaming proudly at no one, doesn’t get any juices flowing.
  • Going to play Words with Friends, seeing your opponent got 60+ points on the word “divinity” on HER FIRST MOVE, glancing around and tearing up at no one, also doesn’t get any juices flowing.
  • Swaying and spinning around in your kitchen singing “up, up and away in my beautiful, my beautiful balloooooon!” doesn’t work. But, it does cause dog excitement.
  • Staring blankly at the screen produces nothing, but it DOES help me remember that I turned the iron on over an hour ago and should probably do something about it.
  • Fuck it. I’m writing about writer’s block.

Conclusion.

I’m tired and have a cold, so I’m just going to throw pictures at you and call it a post.

This Christmas it was my turn to get sick. Usually Tom or I get sick, and since last year was a Christmas miracle and neither one of us got sick, this year turned out to be my year.

My brain is being a bitch and won’t put together any kind of logical, linear narrative or post, so here’s a collection of pictures from what I’ve been doing.

We’re spending the week in N.C. with my mom and sister. The drive from Georgia takes about 6 hours, which inevitably means a bathroom break. Last time I was assured at a South Carolina rest stop I wouldn’t be stabbed with a screwdriver. This time, at a gas station, was a sign that reminded me that I was using the bathroom in a gas station:

I love polite toilets.

Then, we went on a walk, and Tom made the observation that the people who lived here must have started having their house painted, then noticed they loved the color of the painter’s tape so much, they switched it up.

And on the walk, both of the dogs kept peeing on red fire hydrants. I boooed at them every time. It’s so cliched and expected. The only saving grace is that we know they aren’t doing it ironically because in real life, there are no doggie hipsters.

BOOOOOOO!

I looked through the photo albums at my mom’s house, as I often do, because I live in the past. I found a picture from the year Santa brought me my Wonder Woman sleeping bag, and I had just found it in the 1983 Sears WishBook on the Wish Book Web:

I also found a picture of me trying to fit in my arms all the Care Bear figures my grandma got me. And I’m sure she rolled her eyes and mentioned how spoiled I was because that’s the kind of grandma she was:

And, this Christmas, Santa left me a nice stash of Nerds to cannibalize:

I hope you all had and are having a happy holiday. And may all of you and your family members come out the other side un-strangled.

Get back to your needlepoint, little starling. Craft, craft, craft…craft, craft, craft.

Reason 1,234,567 I can’t wait until the house is sold: I get to put up all my inappropriate decor.

I don’t have super-awesome stuff like electric chairs or cobras fighting mongooses, but I have plenty of off-kilter things and things that don’t get your house sold that we can’t have out right now (a homemade ALF planter I found at a flea market, Tom likes to display his big ol’ AT-AT from childhood, etc.),

With the rapid reduction of dog rescue work I do, I’ve found time to do things I used to do, like a little bit of crafting.

Over Thanksgiving weekend, I finally got to make what’s been bouncing around in my head for over five years. But, now it has to go in a box, waiting for a time when a cross-stitch inspired by Silence of the Lambs can be displayed in my bathroom without weirding out potential buyers, just regular visitors. So, for now, I will hang it in this blog post to enjoy.