Sunday, December 30, 2012

I Drink Your Milkshake (the D is silent)

Yesterday I saw Django Unchained.  Today I saw There Will be Blood.  Wow.  I don't really know where to go from there.  If you haven't seen them, see them.

I'll start with Django.  Seeing this was such a clusterfuck.  I was supposed to see this with a friend on Thursday (the only day I had off besides Christmas).  That didn't work because there was no one who could watch the kids at 3:30pm on that particular Thursday.  My mother was working, my in-laws were running a high school basketball tournament all day, and my usual babysitter (my friend from middle school) was napping after working crazy Walmart shifts.  We asked around and Saturday seemed to be the best alternative for our friends (the original friend got tickets from Santa so that wasn't changing).

Saturday arrives and I'm at work.  I already know I should be getting close enough to 40 hours (which I can't go over).  It's really slow and my store manager gets there around 1pm.  It gets a little busy, but nothing crazy.  I'm thinking I can get out of there around 3, 3:30 if I have to.  He says that's fine if it stays slow and shipment gets done.  We work on shipment and it stays pretty slow; however, he finds a way to stay busy and keeps me on register.  3pm passes us by, then 3:30.  The other closing associate comes in and starts working.  The last person I ring up has a gift card that I can't get to swipe so I type it in manually and it doesn't want to work.  I call the number and it says there's $10 on the card.  My manager takes it, types it in and it works.  Shit.  I love looking stupid and then get laughed at as I walk to the back to get my stuff.  Love it!  Anyway, it's four.  I speed out of there and down to the theater.  My husband is there with popcorn, drinks, and Snowcaps (yum).  Apparently, he was in line at concessions for close to 20 minutes, which worked out since I was late.  We get into the theater.  I can't see anything, not people, not seats.  My husband spots two seats two rows from what I'd consider ideal viewing position.  Trust me, this place has stadium seating.  Remember when you were in middle school or even younger and thought it was cool to sit in the front row or two?  It's not.  It's so beyond anti-cool, it's unpleasant and lame as shit.  We're five, maybe six rows from the front at the end of the row.  We come in five or ten minutes after the movie has started (or so I can assume from the preview showing the acquisition of Django, which hadn't occurred too much earlier than when we sat).  I'm in a shitty mood, my husband is in a shitty mood, and we are watching a Quentin Tarantino film.  Perfect.

Just a little explanation into my husband's mood.  The previous night we asked his mom about watching the kids.  She didn't seem too thrilled so I said that my mother could probably do it if that was better.  She said it might be.  Does that sound final?  Not to me and not to my husband so in the morning, before I left for work, I mentioned that he could check with his mom and my mom and figure things out since I wouldn't be there to do it.  Apparently he called his parents to see if they were going to be back by 3pm because he needed to leave to get to the theater on time (the house is about twenty minutes at least from town).  They said they were almost home.  When they arrived, he tells them that our daughter is napping and baby brother is playing.  They argue.  Words were exchanged.  We can't assume they'll watch the kids.  We asked.  I wasn't there, but that's the Cliff Notes version.  The kids ended up with my mother, who was actually a delight when we got back to get them.

Point is, we both went through some bullshit and acted a little poorly to get to this movie.  Good thing it's quite possibly the best of the year and maybe even the best Tarantino to date.  Brilliant writing, great score, beautiful gore, and much more mature and tasteful than I expected.  Seriously, this movie is off the chain.

As for There Will be Blood, I'm glad I saw this after seeing Lincoln.  It makes me appreciate Daniel Day-Lewis even more.  For the record, I loved Lincoln, but Day-Lewis plays an American hero (nowadays, at least).  In There Will be Blood, Day-Lewis' character is originally someone you can empathize with, but over the course of the movie, begins to disintegrate.  Although there was blood, I did feel sorry for him in the end.

PS.  We realized after Django that we never confirmed the movie time with our friends, thereby seeing it as a couple and not a group.  There was blood and vengeance, but they had none of it.  Oops....

Friday, December 28, 2012

Winter is Coming

Symptoms: Sneezing, sore throat.  Diagnosis: Cold.  Prognosis: Winter is coming and I have been warned.

Curse working with people.

Thursday, December 27, 2012

Joy to the World

Christmas is finally over.  Don't get me wrong, I love Christmas (the idea of it, anyway), but working retail for eight years (two of which were spent as a store manager of a specialty retailer) has conditioned me against it.  The holiday spirit can be a great thing, but I've seen a lot of greedy Grinches (usually more of them than Santa's elves).  I'm not free of blame.

On Christmas Day, after everyone had left the house except me, my husband, and the kids, I was bored and ready to get out of the house.  I wanted to get wings or stop in a store for a bit.  Anything to get out of the house.  It's messed up.  Granted, I live with my in-laws right now while we wait for our short-sale house purchase to get completed (that's a whole other story) so that might have something to do with my cabin fever.

Truth be told, the day did go well.  My daughter got some great presents and my mom really cleaned up (I got her a new wireless printer and digital camera).  My son is under a year old so he was just excited to see the family together (and get his hands on any wrapping paper not monitored by an adult).  Even still, it can be a little disappointing when you're an adult.  It's great watching your kids open presents (except for the whining about "how do I do this?  I can't make it work!" and other delightful childhood quandaries), but one of the mildly depressing things is when you give better gifts to your parents than they give to you (which can happen as early as teenage years depending on their "Give-a-Shit" meter).  The other part of that is if it's because of monetary reasons, which is depressing on its own because you may be forced to admit that things for your parents might not be as financially good as you had believed (or wanted to believe).  The other thing you have to accept when you're a parent is that you are a second-class citizen to your parents.  It's all about the grandkids, WHICH IS HOW IT SHOULD BE.  That's probably the best part, actually.  Knowing how much your kids are loved.


Wow, now that I've thoroughly depressed and cheered myself up, I'll move on to the day after Christmas.  If you work retail, expect to work on this day.  The funny part was how nasty the weather was and how little people wanted to be out in it.  We did half the business we did last year.  The store was empty for the last 45 minutes we were open.  It was kinda awesome.  The best part is that I was off work today.  Why is that great?  Because the weather was good and everyone who would have gone out yesterday, apparently went out today.  I know this because my store manager called to ask me to come in early tomorrow just in case the onslaught of shoppers continues.

To continue with today, I should relay a story of what just happened with my kids twenty minutes ago.  Let me set up a little background.  My daughter is from my first marriage.  Her dad sees her for a day or two every two weeks, which is fine because it means I have her the rest of the time.  My son is teething and hasn't ever truly slept through the night.  We let him cry for fifteen minutes tops and then check on him.  My husband is out picking up food.  The baby is crying over the monitor.  He sounds upset, but I let it go.  My daughter is concerned.  She keeps asking if I can check on her brother, which is very sweet since she's five.  It's been fifteen minutes and he doesn't seem to be letting up.  I don't know the status of his feeding since my husband fed him last.  I leave my daughter downstairs on the sofa coloring a picture and take a bottle upstairs.  He's hungry, sort of.  My son suckles with his eyes closed and I know he's going down, but I still plan on singing to him to reinforce the things that go along with bedtime when I hear screaming.  I mean, I-fell-down-the-stairs-and-both-my-legs-are-broken screaming so I take the bottle out of the baby's mouth, set him down gently and tear down the stairs as quickly as possible.  What do I find?  Does my daughter have broken legs?  Blood pouring down her face?  Nope, she wanted help coloring.  We had a chat about when you scream like that.  Yep, parenting.  It's about the little things.

Monday, December 24, 2012

'Twas the night before Christmas...

Today is the 24th (i.e. the day before the nightmare of Christmas is finally over).  Today started out with me going to the store I work at around seven in the morning.  Yep, we opened at eight and closed at eight.  How many customers do you think we had before ten (our usual opening time)?  Two..maybe three.  Kinda tragic.  Although I didn't expect much else honestly.  Christmas Eve is a Monday this year, that means that people had all weekend to shop (and they did).

Thankfully, I got to leave work around two.  Went home, wrapped four things before everyone in the house who was napping woke up (PS. not a creature was stirring, all were napping), went to the store to pick up extra wrapping paper and last-minute stocking stuffers, and finally stopped for coffee with  my husband in preparation for the event that is "spending time with my mother".  

-A brief side note about my mom: I love her, she has a very big heart, but also a big mouth that is big because she is loud and also plays "Telephone" with everyone's business (mostly mine).

My family is part Danish so we celebrate "Danish Christmas".  Danish Christmas means we have a big meal on Christmas Eve consisting of ribs and turnips.  There's more food than that, but I don't know how much of it is supposed to go with the Danish part and how much is because it's food that I like, such as green beans, potatoes, and (baked?) onions.  Disclaimer: the Danish family came to Canada a couple generations ago so even though we are Danish, I make no claim to know what is actually legit "Danish Christmas".  I just know what it means for us.

This year, dinner was delicious.  My kids were adorable and my mom was bearable, nice to be around.  My daughter was singing "Santa Claus is Coming to Town" and treated us to a repeat performance of a trick she did while we were visiting my mother-in-law's parents in Florida.  This trick is where she is standing or dancing or walking and one minute you see her, the next you don't.  It's quite impressive actually.  My father-in-law described it as looking like an SNL skit, and this second time was no exception.  Very hilarious.

Anyway, we just got home and put the kids to bed.  After the baby goes to bed, it's the five-year-old's turn. Turns out, out of the thirty books we have for her, none of them are Christmas books.  Thank god for the internet.  I found "'Twas the Night before Christmas" online with little graphics and everything.  Very nice to get to read that to her tonight.

Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!