Let’s blame poor planning on not-my-part and great kittysitting on my part for why I just got asked to do another day of sitting for Nigel.
I just got back from seeing Juno. I’m really surprised at the number of people who’ve heard of this film only because where I am it’s at one theater only: The artsy theatre. In case you haven’t heard of it, here’s a trailer:
I was as giddy as a school girl as soon as I saw Jason Bateman’s name show up on the screen. I have a massively huge crush on that man. (Anyone know his number? No? Ok, I’ll pine for him the old-fashioned way: Posters over my bed.) His character turned out to be in a bit of a mid-life crisis with a spouse who didn’t love him for who he was. Didn’t see that coming until the second time Juno visited, although it explains his extreme awkwardness the first time she visited.
Michael Cera was brilliantly understated. I crush on his comedy, and him in his gold running shorts. (har) His character was perfect. The orange Tic Tacs thing cracked me up.
Movies about teen pregnancy are never supposed to be funny, so it was a real pleasure that this one was. :grins: I completely went against my cousin’s wishes and did not bring paper and pencil to write down Ellen Page/Juno phrases. She said some great stuff but … I’m 33, she’s 16. What phrases am I really going to carry with me that weren’t “damn skippy” and “wizard”? (Although, really, I’m not from The Midwest, could I ever really carry off “damn skippy” anyway? Nope.)
I’ll own this film, it deserves my love and devotion. Go see it if you like comedies about awkward teen situations. There is a great gore scene in the middle while Jason Bateman and Ellen Page develop an inappropriate relationship on his couch. Sooooo good.
Film grade: A+
(Do I ever give films bad grades?)
In case you’re wondering, Juno was Hera, wife of Zeus. Greeks and Romans just named the same characters different things. Cuz, well, ya know, different languages and cultures. Kinda like Santa Claus having all those other names in other countries.
I have resorted to hot Sicilian spaghetti sauce on my cottage cheese to knock this cold outta me.
|You Communicate Like a Woman|
You empathize, talk things out, and express your emotions freely. You’re a good listener, and you’re non-judgmental with your advice. Communication is how you connect with people. You’re always up for a long talk, no matter how difficult the subject matter is.
Do You Communicate Like a Man or a Woman?
Yup! All very true.
Cred to Sour.
Did you know that Penélope and Mónica Cruz are kissing
cousins sisters? In their brother Eduardo’s video they not only suggestively grind on their brother but they actually kiss-bite each other near the very end of the video. You don’t believe me, do you. Well, see for yourself:
(Do they say “que rica” in Spain?) The song is pretty boring and lame, but their brother isn’t bad to look at…
The first five minutes of Cloverfield, out in theaters 1.18.2008:
No matter, I will go to see it. Who’s coming to France to sit through this with me?
I spend a lot of time thinking about other people. You’re included in the people category, since you’re people. Any time my mind thinks of the band Nouvelle Vague, for example, I think of the lovely Bearette who introduced me to them. And the only song I ever seem to remember without listening to the music is Making Plans for Nigel*, so how fitting that I got to help Nigel plan his time while his family (Partner in Crime, His Lovely Wife, and their daughter Too Legit to Quit [dba TLQ, and I shall not be explaining this evah so don't wonder]) was away visiting family.
That, my dears, is Nigel. Is he not a handsome boy? He is the best behaved male kitto I have ever met. It was a pleasure caring for him while his family was away, and I truly hope they last-minute-think of me again in the future for kittysitting him. I’m absolutely certain they have a nannycam** somewhere in their home but I would have done all the same lovin’ on Nigel even if there wasn’t one.
If I had not previously mentioned, Nigel was named after the Spinal Tap character. For some reason the fam has stopped calling him Nigel and just call him Kitty. But I? I like to call people and ameenals by their proper names. Example, I only call PiC by his full first name while everyone else on the planet calls him by his abbreviated name. This has more to do with the fact that, when my previous officemate and I asked him on his first day at work what we should call him, he told us to call him by his full first name, then hesitated for about 3 seconds (a long time in real life, count it out), then told us we could call him by his abbreviated name but by then it was too late, fate sealed and all that. And, that is precisely why I call Nigel by Nigel, because Nigel is his name, and Nigel is the name I was told when I asked PiC “what is your kitty’s name?” If he had said “Bob” I’d call Nigel Bob, but he said Nigel so I call Nigel Nigel.
My favorite part of taking care of him was (intentionally, shhhh) letting him out into the hallway of the building and then slowly chasing him down the hall saying, “Nigel, you got out, stop running away, I need to catch you!” and then we’d get to the end of the hall and he’d lie down and dig his claws into the carpet and I’d scoop him up into my arms and give him a kiss and slowly walk him back to the condo while we nuzzled and he purred.
*In case you’d like to listen to the song:
- A snippet of the song – Nouvelle Vague – Making Plans for Nigel
- A YouTube live performance video – Making Plans for Nigel
**The first thing PiC asked me when I asked him to kittysit for the girls in October was, “do you have a nannycam?” to which I responded, *staaaaaaaaaaare* “uh, not that I know of, but now I’m sure there will be when when I get back.” (He totally installed one, I’m sure of this. Hi, PiC!!!!)
I have fallen in love with the cue card scene from Love Actually, which is ironic because I hate Keira Knightley.
But I’ll give her a free pass this one time.
It is mean…
…to make me sick on Christmas. Whoever did this should pay dearly.
…to make me wake up at 3:30am the day after Christmas. That cold medicine really should try harder to keep me knocked out until my alarm wakes me up.
…to make me have really fucked up dreams while sick. I just had a dream where a guy who seemed like Richard Dreyfuss but wasn’t turned a cop into those little styrofoam beads that fill beanbag chairs because the cop was trying to give him a ticket for making an illegal turn. And then while trying to bring the cop-in-beads-form outside to bury him he accidentally spilled the beads onto the floor of a building that was being renovated but he didn’t want to disturb the dustiness of the building so he just smeared the cop around on the floor a little with his foot. (SEE? DISTURBING.)
…to make me hungry in the wee hours of the night. My throat hurts and dairy would be a perfect midnight-nay-3:51am-snack but dairy and colds don’t tend to go together.
…to make me have to go to the doctor when I am sick. Just going for a checkup after I wasn’t feeling well overall-healthwise about two months ago. That’s when I started boosting up my protein intake and I started feeling waaaaaay better. Lack of protein really fucked with me. I had some very strange symptoms I’d rather not mention out loud, but try googling malnutrition symptoms and you’ll find some of my symptoms. I’m grumpy when I’m sick, and my doctor doesn’t deserve me being grumpy just because she wants to make sure I’m doing ok. Moral of the story: Eat more protein. (In the form of dairy and tofu, you sickos.)
My mind is too dirty at this hour. Going back to bed.