I had been looking forward to X-Men Origins: Wolverine for a while, and a few weeks ago it turned up in my Netflix queue.  It’s one of those rare action things that I can get N to watch with me.  He doesn’t expect them to be epic or anything, but apparently there’s a certain sub-genre of bad action movies he will agree to watch without complaint.  (But if you ask him why that is, he can’t explain – as you’ll see in a moment.)

I actually was not expecting to like it as much as I did.  Here’s the thing:  I felt that X-Men would have been far better as a stand-alone movie.  Much like The Matrix, one was enough, you know?  Okay, let’s be fair:  X2 was enjoyable enough.  But the third one in the series (much like the third Matrix movie) was just painful.  So you can see my (momentary) hesitation to watch yet another sequel.  But, technically, this is a prequel, so there’s my justification for adding it to my queue in the first place.  Hee.

Hugh Jackman was a great casting choice as Wolverine.  I’ve thought that since the very first X-Men, at which point I believe he was still relatively unknown.  Anyway, I’m glad he accepted the role again – it seems like a lot of times for prequel-type movies they end up re-casting some of the roles  – although please don’t ask me for examples, I can’t come up with any at the moment.

There was plenty of action, and I felt like overall it did a nice job of filling in some of Wolverine/Logan’s backstory – since he can’t remember his past in the original three movies, there was quite a bit of storyline to be worked with and I think the writers did a nice job.  I would definitely watch it again and will probably pick up a copy of the DVD if I find it on sale.  Even N seemed to enjoy (or at least he wasn’t making disparaging remarks the entire time), so I think we can give Wolverine two thumbs up.

Which is far, far more than can be said for Crank 2: High Voltage.   Ahem.  It was…terrible, for lack of a better word.  Except that doesn’t begin to cover it, so maybe I can come up with something else:  atrocious, horrific,  intelligence-insultingly awful, an abusive assault on the senses…it was worse than the original, and folks, that one was total crap.  I’m not put off by the comic-book style approach to film-making, sometimes it works (see: Kill Bill), but Crank 2 is proof that sometimes it does NOT.

The language was enough to make a sailor blush – which I can handle, but is it really necessary to use the c-word at all, say nothing of MULTIPLE TIMES during a movie that is only 96 minutes long?  Not to mention the plot was completely and utterly ridiculous – which again, I can handle, but come on.  This was so far out of the realm of believability that it was hard to watch.  Mostly because I spent most of the time with my eyes rolled as far back into my head as they could go.

But that begs the question I asked N:  Why is it that he (and surprisingly, I) found Crank 2 to be SO bad that it was virtually intolerable?  For the love.  The two of us cheerfully sat through Mega Shark vs. Giant Octopus (starring 80s pop star Debbie Gibson).  AND Silent Venom, something which may or may not have been the pinnacle of Luke Perry’s career (hint: NO).  Oh, and we’ve also seen Mosquito, which is exactly as good as you would assume.

So why do we find both Crank movies so terrible?  What’s the limit?  We both like Jason Statham (although presumably for very different reasons) and we both appreciate the comedy inherent in bad movies, whether intentional or not.  N couldn’t answer those questions when I asked him last night, and honestly neither can I.  Are they trying too hard?  Just too full of implausible violence/cringe-worthy language/gratuitous sex?  My high tolerance for bad movies of all kinds is well documented on this blog but Crank 2 isn’t just bad, it’s abysmal.  I’d add it to the sequel hall of shame, but since I also hated the original I don’t think it qualifies.

Full disclosure:  Will this stop me from watching the inevitable Crank 3?  Probably not.  (Will I be able to sweet-talk N into watching that one with me too?  Absolutely not.  In fact, I probably won’t be able to talk him into watching anything of my choosing for quite a while.  Or possibly ever again.)

Finally people started interacting a little bit, and the coach’s wife came over to chat with AE.  I was surprised at how casually he held a conversation with her.  I still think of him as a preschooler or something, I guess, and am always prepared to answer questions FOR him, like I do with Miss T (although she doesn’t need me to do it either).  But the woman was asking him all sorts of things about his school, does this teacher still teach second grade, do Mrs. So-and-so and Ms. Doe still team-teach, is Mrs. Smith still there.  And he knew all the answers, knowledgeably explaining that no, this teacher now does third grade, Ms. Doe is now team-teaching with a new teacher, and Mrs. Smith now exclusively does speech therapy.  I was so impressed!  When did my little boy become a functional member of society?  He has this whole life outside of mine!  He knows things that I have no idea about!  Crazy!

**********

N and I have apparently decided to go on a travel spree of sorts.

It gets started Memorial Day weekend.  We’re going to Baltimore for his college roommate’s wedding, something we’ve had planned for well over a month.

Then last week, we finally bit the bullet and booked a trip to Denver for mid-June.  We haven’t been back out there since we moved away (almost 7 years ago, GAWD), and AE is old enough now to really appreciate and remember a visit.  So we’ll take him on the grand nostalgic (for us) tour, this is where we used to live, there’s where you were born, etc., and of course we’ll also hit the zoo and Casa Bonita.  (Because no trip to the Denver area is complete without experiencing the weirdness that is Casa Bonita.  Have you seen that episode of South Park?  Yeah.  It’s totally like that.)

And Friday night, we completely lost our minds and booked YET ANOTHER trip, this time to San Francisco in late July.  Why, you ask?  Well, I’m starting grad school in August, and there’s no way we’ll have the time/energy/MONEY to travel very much over the next few years.  So this will be our last hurrah of sorts.  We’ve actually already been to SF (and oh, we adore it) but the draw this time is the marathon.  As you  know, N has already completed a couple of half-marathons, and has another planned for next month (oh yes, and we’re going to Dallas sans kids that weekend.  My poor parents, who are stuck on Kid Duty for all of these wanderings.)  But after April, marathons are pretty hard to come by around here because it’s just too damn hot.  So San Francisco it is.

I’m very excited.  And while N contemplates upping the ante and spending the next 4 months training for the full marathon (AH MAH GAH), I am actually considering going for the half myself.  I’ve recently begun running, you see, and it’s true what they say.  It is addictive.  I think I’ll run the 5K when we go to Dallas, then see if I can’t find a few more of those around here (nice thing about a college town – there are plenty of student organizations to sponsor them).  I do love a challenge, and if training for a half-marathon isn’t a challenge I don’t know what would be.  I think they payoff will be worth the inevitable pain and suffering – I mean, come on.  The half-marathoners get to run across the Golden Gate Bridge.  Twice!

No matter what happens – I think it’s pretty clear I’ve totally lost my marbles.  For reals this time.

Thursday my mom came into town to watch the kids so that N and I could go out and have some time to ourselves.  So we headed out mid-afternoon and just puttered around town, something we rarely get to do (not in a leisurely fashion, anyway).  We putzed around the mall, browsed at Spec’s (and bought plenty of wine), and laughed at the ridiculous band-related merchandise you can find at Hastings.  (Seriously, folks, does anyone really need an old-fashioned twin bell alarm clock with Korn or Slipknot emblazoned on the face?  Survey says: NO.)

We had dinner at Abuelo’s, where I had a sinfully delicious guacamole/shrimp/scallop/white wine enchilada platter with steamed vegetables.  OMG it was so good, I unapologetically ate every last bit.  (And consequently had a horrible stomachache later that night but it was so worth it.)  We followed that up with a trip to a local wine bar, which was pleasantly quiet (as was the restaurant, thanks to spring break) and a nice place to sit and chat.

Then yesterday, my actual birthday, we took the kids to the Houston Zoo.  AE had been asking to go for quite a while and we hadn’t taken the poor kid since his sixth birthday (a year and a half ago).  The weather was nice so we decided to give it a try.

And as it turned out, so did most of the population of the greater Houston area.  Holy crap, but there were a lot of people.  We got stuck in a traffic jam in the museum district, where some moron two cars up was insistent on letting in every single sly rule-breaking last-minute jerkoff into our lane, thereby causing an even bigger delay.  Which would have been a mere annoyance, if it weren’t for the fact that I had consumed a large cup of coffee during the 1.5 hour drive.  And I needed to find some facilities tout de suite, if you catch my drift.  It got so bad that I seriously considered jumping out of the car to utilize a nearby porta-potty.  Or possibly a tree.

We made it to Hermann Park in the nick of time, where N had to let me jump out of the car and run (literally) to the restrooms at the theater while he and the kids searched for a parking spot (which ended up costing us NINE DOLLARS in a nearby garage, but what can you do).

I always forget how much I enjoy the zoo until I actually get there.  My brain manages to hold on to everything that makes it a pain in the ass – the long drive, lack of parking, ticket expense, hot hot sun, crowds, etc. etc. etc. – and blocks the fact that I always have a good time.  I love looking at all of the exotic animals, and it’s always more fun to watch the kids get excited.  Miss T was in absolute AWE.  She loved everything.  She dubbed the Golden Lion Tamarins “baby lions” almost immediately, and she thought the giraffes were most excellent.  She wasn’t as fascinated by the real lions, however, probably because all they do is sleep.  We have animals at home that do that (in fact, later that evening she compared our dog to the lions because of the way she was lying on the carpet.  Very astute, baby girl.)  We had a picnic, checked out the koi in the reflecting pool, and saw the keeper feed the meerkats.  Miss T and I got up close and personal with a 2-year-old Galapagos tortoise while N and AE were in the reptile house, which was pretty neat.  So we had a really good time, traffic and personal near-catastrophes not withstanding.

AND THEN, we got home and I was given my birthday gifts.  One of which was a brand-new laptop!  Whee!  We’ve been talking for a while about how I’ll need my own laptop once I start classes in the fall, so that I can leave the house and study and all that fun stuff.  I’d oh-so-sneakily mentioned to N a few weeks ago that Dell was running a special on their notebook computers, but it turns out that he already knew that and had in fact already ordered me a shiny green one.  Yay!  I’d been giving him a hard time about topping last year’s gift (a trip to a surprise destination) and I think he did a great job of coming pretty damn close.  But now, of course, he’s just creating a greater challenge for himself with each passing year.  I figure by the time I turn 50, he should have worked his way up to the purchase of a small tropical island, yes?

SO!  To sum up:  I may be a year older, but had a pretty awesome birthday celebration to soften the blow.  Win!

Grandma: You know.  Helen.  She’s Bill’s cousin’s wife.

Mee-Mee: [thinking]  Hmm.  No, I don’t think I know her.

Grandma: Yes, yes you do.  Helen Smith!  She used to go to your church.

Mee-Mee: [confused]  No…?  I…I just don’t remember her.

Grandma: [gearing up for a long, drawn-out story that will undoubtedly be pointless]  Well-

Aunt Glo: [rolling her eyes]  Oh, please.  Bottom line?  She’s dead.

Me: [unable to keep from laughing hysterically]

N: [also laughing hysterically]

AE: [always the voice of reason] I don’t think that’s appropriate.

*****

Scene:  Our bedroom.  Miss T is using the bed as her personal trampoline.

Me: Hey!  No jumping on the bed, please.

Miss T: I jump on bed!  Is tamp-o-een.

Me: No.  No, it is NOT a trampoline.  It’s a bed.  For sleeping.

Miss T: [still jumping]  Fo seeping?

Me: Yes.  For sleeping.  Not jumping.

Miss T: [thinking it over]  Is tamp-o-een!

Me: No, it isn’t.  Come on, let’s go play in the living room.  No more jumping.  Come on, now.

Miss T: [waving and jumping]  Bye-bye, Mama!  Mama go play dollhouse!  See oo yater!

N: I think she just told you to get lost.

Me: I believe she did.

Miss T: [jumping and grinning]  Bye!

*****

Scene:  Reminiscing as we drive around the swamp, late Saturday evening.

Me: There’s Dairy Bar.  Man, it looks exactly the same.

N: That place is nasty.  I didn’t set foot in there until I was a teenager, then I turned around and walked right back out.

Me: Well, we used to eat there all the time when I was growing up.  Because it was so close to the house, I guess.  [pointing out window]  We used to live right over there.

N: [puzzled]  What?  Goddamn, how many places did you live growing up?  I thought you lived over there.  [pointing in the opposite direction]

Me: [also puzzled]  What are you talking about?  We never lived over there.  Why would you think we lived over there?

N: [indignant]  Because you told me that you lived over there.  We drove past it one day!

Me: Noooo, I don’t think so.

N: Yes!  Yes, why would I make up something like that?  You told me you lived over there!!

Me: Why would I make up something like THAT? It isn’t TRUE!!  We never lived anywhere near there!

N: I think you did.

Me: For God’s sake, man.  I may be forgetful, but I don’t think I would be wrong about the location of my childhood home!

N: Maybe you had a friend or something that lived over there?

Me: No.  No one.  At no point did I, or anyone I know, live in that neighborhood.  I just don’t have any clue where you’re coming up with this.

N: [pulling into my parents' driveway]  We’ll settle this.  I’ll ask your mother.  She’ll know.

Me: I don’t need to ask my mother.  I know!  We never lived over there!

N: I think you did.

Me: GAH!!

Speaking of surviving, he ran his first official half-marathon!  I am just so proud of him.  First of all, I can’t imagine running 13.1 miles.  Unless I was being chased.  (And probably not even then.)  Secondly, I just think it’s awesome how dedicated he’s become to running, and how far he’s come in such a short time.  Good job, babe!

We managed to find time to go out to dinner on Saturday night before the race. (My parents had the kids for the weekend.)  If you’re ever in Austin, I highly recommend The Belmont.  The service left a bit to be desired (only because our waiter was a douche – an attentive one, but a douche nonetheless), but the atmosphere was awesome and the food was phenomenal.  Plus, they were having a special for those who were running the marathon, so the cost wasn’t bad at all.  The valet service sucked, but overall it was a great meal.

Then Saturday morning, N was supposed to be at the starting line around 5:30 a.m., even though the race didn’t start until 7.  We only had one car, so I had to drop him off.  Fortunately, I was able to go back to the hotel and sleep for a while after dropping him off, and I still made it back in time to see him cross the finish line.  And without getting lost in downtown Austin (too much).  Woot!

After he cleaned up, we headed back downtown and wandered around for a bit, finally settling on Maria Maria as our lunch destination.  And again, I highly recommend it.  It’s Mexican food, but with a bit of a twist on the standard fare.  The lunch special is very reasonably priced, and our waiter, Ted, was probably the best server I’ve had in my entire life.  He earned a handsome tip, and as anyone who has ever dined out with me knows, I am an exceedingly stingy tipper.  The manager was also very friendly and personally stopped by our table to ask how we were doing.  We don’t make it into Austin too often, but once my parents make the final move to Georgetown I’m sure we’ll go more frequently and I can promise that I’ll want to hit Maria Maria every single time.  In fact, I want to go there now.  YUM.

Overall, it was a great weekend, rounded out by my Valentine’s gift.  It turns out that my sweet husband was actually listening a few weeks ago when I was rambling about some shoes I’d seen on sale at Macy’s.  He e-mailed my friend BB (who was shopping with me that day) to find out what they looked like, then went and bought them for me.  I say that any gift involving shoes is an absolute WIN.

I have never lived in a house (or apartment) without a dishwasher.  I mean, yeah, I lived in the dorm my freshman year of college, but there was a dining hall so it wasn’t like I was doing a lot of cooking.

Other than that, I’ve always had a dishwasher handy.  I wasn’t responsible for doing the dishes when I still lived with my parents – that was always my dad’s responsibility.  Mom cooked, he cleaned up the kitchen (and WOE TO YOU if you stacked dirty plates one on top of the other because then he would have to rinse BOTH SIDES.  But I digress), and therefore Dad was the one who loaded the dishwasher.

The comments in Swistle’s post seem to indicate that a lot of couples fight about proper dishwasher loading, something else that’s a rather foreign concept to me.  Again, probably because I grew up in a house where only ONE person did the loading.

N and I both wash the dishes, but neither of us is particularly anal about the way the dishwasher gets loaded – plus we each have the knack for tetris-ing dishes efficiently.  And we’re both pre-rinsers, so no argument there either.  We don’t tend to load it with pots and pans, or large out-of-the-ordinary dishes unless we plan to run it immediately and there’s leftover room.

So now I’m curious:  Is the dishwasher really a big-ticket issue in some households?  People argue about how it is loaded, or what is loaded in it?  I know there are differences of opinion (the way my father insists on loading the silverware positively IRKS me when I’m back at their house), but I guess since N and I are on the same page it isn’t a big deal for us.

Do you have a dishwasher?  If so, do you pre-rinse or just cram dirty dishes directly in there (like my father-in-law, because it is a dishwasher, after all)?  And am I the only person who would prefer to rinse dishes and load the dishwasher rather than unload it?

(Incidentally, I am quite aware that this may be the most mundane post I’ve ever written.  I was so busy today that at this point my brain cells are all refusing to think straight.  Shut up.)

Me:  [sound asleep, 3:07 a.m.]  zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

N:  PSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHh

Me:  [wide awake]  GOD.

N:  [silence]

Me:  zzzzzzzzzzzzz

Miss T:  WAHHHHHHHHH!

Me:  DAMMIT.  [get up, re-pacifier toddler]

N:  PSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Me:  SHUT.  UP.

N:  PSHHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhHHHHHHHh

Me:  GODDAMN.  ENOUGH.  [covering head with hot, uncomfortable pillow]

N:  PSHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Me:  [seriously considering going outside in freezing temperatures to retrieve ear plugs that are still in the car from the gun range]

N:  PSHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Me:  [lusting after ear plugs]

N:  PSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Me:  HUSBAND.  YOU ARE KILLING ME WITH THE WOOSHING.  ROLL OVER!  FOR THE LOVE.

N:  PSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHhhhhhhh

Me:  [shove husband with foot, HARD]

N:  PSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Me:  [whimpering softly]

N:  [sits up]  What?  Who?

Me:  [sound asleep, 3 a.m.]  zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

N:  [sound asleep, blissfully unaware]  PSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHh

Me:  [wide awake]  GOD.  NO.  NOT AGAIN.

N:  [silence]

Me:  [dozing off]

N:  PSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Me:  [reaching over, adjusting mask]  YOU ARE WOOSHING.  SHUT UP.

N:  [silence]

Me:  [dozing off]  zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

N:  PSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Me:  [covering head with pillow while cursing decision to get married in the first place]

You get the idea.  This has been going on every. single. night for the last month or so, and it is incredibly frustrating.  On the one hand, I can’t get too mad at N.  It isn’t his fault, it’s not like he’s doing it on purpose.  (At least I don’t think he is.)  On the other hand, HE sleeps like the EFFING DEAD, so if the situations were reversed he certainly wouldn’t be losing any sleep over it. 

And while I’m on the subject, in over 8 years of marriage I have yet to figure out a way to wake the man without scaring the shit out of him.  Case in point:

Scene:  Our couch, 8:59 p.m., Tuesday night.  Kids are in bed.  N is sound asleep, sitting up.  I come and plop next to him because it’s time for one of the few TV shows that we actually watch together.

Me:  Honey.

N:  zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Me:  N.  HONEY.

N:  zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Me:  [patting his leg]  Honey.  Time to wake up, it’s about to come on.

N:  zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Me:  N?  Are you dead?  Because you haven’t moved.  [shaking his shoulder]  N!  Wake up, dammit!

N:  [jumping a mile then staring like a deer in the headlights]

Me:  N?  Hello!

N:  [staring blankly]

Me:  Hello.  I am your wife, this is our living room, and it is time for Sons of Anarchy.

N:  [continuing to stare blankly]

Me:  For God’s sake, man.  Wake up.

N:  [blinks]

GOOD LORD.  I have never seen anything quite like it.  It’s actually quite an amazing ability.  He can fall asleep at the drop of a hat, anytime, anywhere (something I actually envy a great deal, as it takes a very specific set of circumstances for me to doze off), and once he’s asleep nothing bothers him.  Ever.  Not the sound of an alarm, or a child’s loud “whisper” directly in his ear, or the tinny cry of a baby over a monitor that is turned up too loud.  Not even the nearby pacing of a 60-pound greyhound with plant-wilting breath disturbs his slumber in the slightest.

Advantageous for him, not so much for our children if I’m not around and there’s a fire in the middle of the night.  Or, you know, if they need to be on time for something.

N:  zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Me:  It’s time to get up.  Your daughter is awake, and I need to get ready for work.  [gently patting his leg]

N:  zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Me:  Honey, PLEASE.  [patting his arm, less gently]  Wake up.

N:  zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Me:  GET.  UP.  [poking him in the shoulder]

N:  [gasping and sitting straight up as though poked with a hot branding iron instead of my finger]  What?!?!  Jeez, why can’t you just say ‘wake up’ instead of scaring me like that?

Sigh.

And the verdict?  Meh.  It was okay.  I didn’t love it, that’s for sure.  It wasn’t so boring that I felt the need to turn it off or anything, but it wasn’t the most riveting movie ever.  I certainly have no need to ever watch it again.

I think part of the issue is that I broke one of my cardinal movie-watching rules – I usually refuse to watch anything that’s “based on a true story”.  My reasoning is thus:  I watch TV and movies to escape reality.  I do not need to see anything that’s based an actual event.  (Horror movies are an exception to this rule.  Do not question the logic.  There is none.)

Overall, it just wasn’t action-y enough.  I like tons of action in my movies.  (No, not THAT KIND of action.  Although there was some of that here.) I mean kick-ass fight scenes, high-speed chases, explosions, adrenaline.  More than a few minutes without something along those lines and I generally get bored.  That’s why I love the Die Hard movies, Lethal Weapon, Tango and Cash, Escape from New York.  I don’t even need a cohesive plot or quality acting (DUH).  If something blows up, I’m usually sold.  That’s how I roll.

Oh, and what did N think about The Bank Job?  He liked it.  OF COURSE.

*****

AE lost his first tooth yesterday!  It took a little assistance from my fingernail (much to the horror of his squeamish father), but since AE said it didn’t hurt that means it was ready to come out.  It was really weird (read:  GROSS).  The permanent tooth was already coming in and pushing the baby tooth forward instead of up, so it was tearing through the front of his gums.  YUM.  Hope you weren’t eating.  Anyway, I was able to pop it right out without tears from a child with zero pain tolerance, so all was well.  And the Tooth Fairy even remembered to visit.

Now, what the hell am I supposed to do with a tiny little baby tooth?

*****

Yesterday we received a notice from a collections agency, stating that the bill from N’s kidney stone debacle had been turned over to them.  I of course freaked out, since I’d sent the hospital a payment within two weeks of receiving the original bill from them.  Not to mention, it has been less than two months since he had the kidney stone in the first place, and isn’t that a little soon to be sending someone to collections?  Particularly without, I don’t know, sending A SECOND BILL or a warning or SOMETHING?  Especially when a payment has been made already?  So after wigging out about it when I opened the mail, losing sleep over it last night, and freaking out about it again this morning, I finally got in touch with the contact person at the hospital.  The conversation went a little something like this:

Linda, the long-suffering billing representative:  Hello, this is Linda.

Me:  Hi, I’m calling about an issue I have with my account.

Linda:  Yes?

Me:  Well, it says that we’ve been sent to collections.

Linda:  Yes, I know.

Me:  …

Linda:  That’s our patient account company.

Me:  Okay?  But it says they’re a collection agency.

Linda:  They ARE.

Me:  Um.  Well, why was it sent to collections?  It’s been less than three weeks since I received the original bill and besides, I made a payment!

Linda:  They aren’t a collections agency for US.  They’re a collections agency for other businesses.  We just use them as a third-party billing service.

Me:  But the letter says-

Linda:  I know.  I’ve asked them to change the wording on the letter when they send it out to our patients.  But they won’t do it.  I spend half my day answering phone calls like this one.

Me:  Really? 

Linda:  Yes, unfortunately.  Don’t worry.  It’s not showing up on your credit report or anything, but try and pay it as soon as you can otherwise they’ll just keep sending you bills repeatedly. 

Me:  O-kay?  Thanks for your time.

Linda:  No problem, sweetheart.  Have a good day!

Here’s a question.  WHY would a hospital choose to use a billing company that repeatedly panics its customers?  And if Linda truly spends half her time answering phone calls like mine, why don’t they switch companies?  Or why doesn’t Linda leave an explanatory message on her phone?  Or perhaps the biggest question of all, how was Linda not the biggest raging bitch in the whole entire world?  Because sweet fancy Moses, I sure would be.

*****

N and I watched Wanted last weekend and had um, a significant difference of opinion about it.  The difference – of course - being that I actually liked it, and he thought it was the most horrible movie ever inflicted upon mankind.  And that is why we rarely watch movies together, the end. 

It was kind of weird, the plot was thin, it obviously ripped off several other action movies, and it was definitely not even remotely believable.  But you see, those things are all fine with me.  As long as there is plenty of action, I’m good to go.  Plus, I always like Morgan Freeman, and Angelina Jolie was wicked awesome.

So, to sum up:  if you like some intelligence in your movies, avoid it.  But if you will cheerfully watch two hours of pointless gunfights, knife battles, and hand-to-hand combat, this is the movie for you.

Then the next night we watched Secondhand Lions, and for once, we actually enjoyed a movie together.  I KNOW.  I was shocked too.  I don’t usually go in for heart-warming type movies (obv) but oh!  It was SO GOOD!  I don’t want to give the plot away or anything, but it’s just a really sweet story about a shy kid who is forced to live with his two reclusive great-uncles for a summer.  I laughed, I cried, it was wonderful, you should see it.  I just can’t rave enough.

And on that note, I better wrap this up.  Happy Friday, everyone!