Jun 18, 2012 |
Dot and I watched one of her favorite movies tonight: Hide & Seek with Robert De Niro and Dakota Fanning. It’s one of those movies that still make us jump or hold our breath or scream. No matter how many times we watch it.
In true MomDot fashion, we opted to bring a little levity to the day by over-analyzing the movie. What follows are some of today’s observations, thrown in with those that are just general knowledge.
1. Creepy movies are always better when you have someone to watch with.
2. Creepy movies are always better in the dark.
3. Creepy movies always have creepy music, which is a dead giveaway to what happens next, except we’re always too engrossed in the movie to pay attention to the music until it blares its horrid signals of what just happened.
4. There will always be a stupid girl who goes down to the basement. Alone.
5. There will always be a stupid guy or cop or other civic-duty minded male who wants to prove his bravery by exploring the surroundings. Alone.
6. At any given time, the stupid girl and the stupid guy will find each other. Typically one will be either dead or near death when the other stumbles upon them, sometimes literally. And then of course the second one will be killed or nearly killed.
7. The good guy is never really the good guy. He is either the bad guy in disguise or the stupid guy who winds up dead.
8. When you’re in the middle of watching a creepy movie, the phone will ring causing you to jump in your seat and be laughed at by other people in the room.
9. When you’re in the middle of watching a creepy movie, if you have a pet, that pet will jump on you or howl or both. Just because they can.
10. During the quiet scenes, try not to scare the other people in the room. It’s not nice. And they will get you for it later.
11. Not all creepy movies are bloody and gory. Some are just great suspense stories.
12. All creepy movies have a stupid girl and a stupid guy.
13. The greatest suspense-movie writers are, in my book, Alfred Hitchcock, the early works of M. Night Shyamalan, Stephen King, and Steven Spielberg.
And since we’re at that lucky Number Thirteen, I’d say now is as good a time as any to call ‘er quits. Errmm… just for the post, you understand.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
Jun 17, 2012 |
It’s a Wonderful Life.
Yes, I know it’s June.
Yes, I know you’re all shaking your heads and wondering if I’m having a nutty.
But I’ve had this movie in my laptop DVD player since Tuesday night.
And I’ve been watching it.
And I love it.
This has become my favorite Christmas movie. The Christmas movie. The one I have to watch each year. Sure, I have my Top Ten. Those movies that I bring out the Day After Thanksgiving and watch at some point within the next 30 days.
But It’s a Wonderful Life is the one that I watch. I mean, really watch. The one where I make phone calls to tell my family “Don’t call me.” The one where the snack food is on the coffee table and the holiday drink of choice is in the chilled glass. There are no interruptions when I’m watching this movie.
Even Dot knows not to distract me in any manner whatsoever.
Have I said, this is my favorite movie? Because it is.
It’s the well-known original story of a down-on-his-luck man whose life didn’t go at all the way he planned. Filled with anger and regrets, an angel greets him in an effort to prevent his suicide. What follows is the other side of the “What If” coin. George Bailey is consumed with the “What If’s” and “Why Not’s” that he thinks would have made his life better. Angel Clarence shows him the “What If’s”, if George had never been born.
George is filled with a renewing sense of purpose, of gratitude and thanksgiving. His life hasn’t changed. But his perspective has.
And he comes to realize what so many of us fail to grasp:
It’s a Wonderful Life.
As one of my friends says, you can stay on the pity pot or you can share your sunshine.
I could never understand how people are so much nicer and more patient and compassionate from November through January, and the rest of the year go back to acting as if others don’t matter.
If we can find that “Christmas Spirit” then, why not now? Why should it be a shock to be filled with hope in June?
I’ve been in a bit of a funk lately and not liking it. I’ve been feeling like I’m at the end of the proverbial rope. Worst of all, I’d been feeling almost like there’s not much hope.
I hate that feeling!
I dug through the Christmas media and found my movie. And I’ve been watching it every night since.
It’s interesting how you can watch the same thing over and over and then suddenly, realize something new about it. I’ve been so entranced with watching the movie, paying attention to it. Every night I’m catching new glimmers that I’d not noticed before: dialogue, camera angles, scenery. Every ounce of this movie is coming to life for me in a way I’d not experienced before. Not only is the message coming across loud and clear, but it’s reigniting my creative passions.
The writer in me constantly evaluates every word, every action. The person in me finds hope in every scene.
Hope.
From a movie script.
Inspiration.
From a story.
Sure. My situation hasn’t changed since yesterday. But in some ways, that’s okay. Because while things aren’t getting better, they also aren’t getting any worse. And there’s something to be said for that kind of stability. The kind where you know you’re home with family and eating together each day. The kind where creativity overcomes the consumer.
The kind of stability that gives you a comfy bed to rest in and a DVD to watch each night.
Things haven’t gotten any better.
But they haven’t gotten any worse.
It’s a Wonderful Life.
I’ve been watching it every night.
And I’ve been waking up every morning. Ready to face whatever the day brings.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
Jun 16, 2012 |
My friend Mary lives in Canada. Which is prob’ly a good thing.
We’re both Chocoholics, and if she lived any closer to me we’d most likely be at each others’ door every day sharing the dark sweets in its various forms.
That doesn’t stop us from still encouraging one another to indulge without the other one present. Thank goodness we know our limits. So we’re actually more apt to post pictures on each others’ Facebook wall. Most of the time.
Beautiful, lovely, delicious looking chocolate pictures.
My friend Del introduced me to this website, Foodimentary.com. It’s a fun blog that tells you what foods to celebrate each day. Each. Day.
Seriously, Del?! I owe you the biggest plate of baked goods evvver.
So. Yeah. I finally checked out the blog and discovered that June 16th is National Fudge Day. How awesome is that?
I’m betting you can guess what I’ll be doing after the morning housecleaning, right?! Yup. I’m gonna try my hand at making fudge.
I’m so happy I could cry chocolate tears.
Now, I don’t have any photos of fudge since I haven’t made it yet, but I do have some great photos of my past delicious chocolate goodies.
I hope they inspire you to try your own hand at making some wonderful treats. Enjoy!
The Tiramisu at Bella Trattoria, Mission Inn in Riverside, CA. The coffee was also delectably delicious.
My date with Bocelli.
These donuts will be great when dipped in my ganache.
I made this batch when I wrote my blog review of “Julie & Julia.”
Homemade donuts. Yum!
I didn’t make this great Cheesecake, but it was the finishing touch to my Bunco at Tiffany’s party.
Authentic NYC Junior’s Cheesecake
This is some of the best baking chocolate ever.
Direct from New York!
My Scharffen Berger Prize Package
And it makes a really great holiday drink.
Chocolate Martini made with Scharffen Berger Chocolate.
I use my Wilton Cake Decorating Kit
for more than just icing.
Best Cake Kit
This great ganache was used as a topping
and also a soft chocolate candy.
Making Ganache
These chocolate-covered pretzels are my current
favorite
homemade treat.
Chocolate Covered Pretzels
I hope by now you’re drooling and making out your grocery list. Go on, now! It’s time to make some fudge!
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
Jun 15, 2012 |
I haven’t been able to focus on writing this week. Instead I’ve been literally waiting for the phone to ring. Holding my breath every time the mail truck drives up, and exhaling every time there’s no letter of rejection.
I’m still waiting to hear if I’m getting the job I applied for two months ago. It’s one of those hurry-up-and-wait situations that’s pretty much driving me crazy.
Every day that I don’t hear means I’m still unemployed.
Every day that I don’t hear gives me the chance to keep praying.
This Job would be perfect for me.
This Job is local.
This Job’s schedule is regular Monday through Friday. No required weekends. No late evenings or early mornings.
This Job starts at a good wage, with regular reviews and increases.
This Job offers stability, longevity, permanence, and room for advancement.
This Job has health, vision, and dental benefits.
This Job has a retirement package.
This Job is in a professional yet friendly atmosphere.
This Job‘s duties include working with computers, numbers, and people. All things I love and am great at.
For all these reasons and more, I am praying for This Job.
Throughout this very stressful waiting period, this very dramatic roller coaster ride, I’ve been reminded of the very specific prayers I said when looking for a house.
It should be fully fenced. Landscaped. Attached garage. Indoor laundry room. Quiet neighborhood. Safe neighborhood. Nice, friendly neighbors. Close to my mom’s. Central to the area. Affordable. Like my mom’s house, but one I could make my own. Not too much of a fixer-upper, but needing my special touch.
And that’s exactly what I got. A beautiful house that we’ve turned into a home. The floor plan is exactly like my mom’s, but reversed. So it’s her house, but it’s mine. It’s lovingly decorated. It’s well-kept. And every day brings something new: a new plant, a flower in the dirt yard, a stray cat saying hi… It will never be finished. But it’s my house. It’s Our Home. And it’s everything I prayed for. Specifically and boldly.
I know so many of our family and friends are praying for us, crossing fingers and toes and legs and sending out great thoughts and wishes for This Job… I am so abundantly thankful. And so abundantly blessed. I may not be financially well-off at this moment, but I am overflowing with what matters. It’s impossible for me to express my gratitude, my peace and joy and heartfelt affection for all of you.
And I choose to believe that these specific and bold prayers for This Job will be answered just as specifically and boldly.
Because that’s how My God works.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
Jun 14, 2012 |
My friend Mary sent me this photo last week. This turtle came to say hi to her at work. She said it was most likely nesting and laying eggs. A few hours later, the turtle was gone, and there was no sign of any eggs.
I asked her if I could use this photo. First, because it’s just an awesome photo. I mean, look at those eyes! And the size of those claws and feet! I’d hate to tussle with those.
The other reason I wanted to use Mary’s photo is because it reminds me of a story I’d nearly forgotten; one of those funny family tales that I’m sure will be passed down to several generations. Just for the record, I’ve decided to put it here on the blog so there’s no distant-memory-recall-defect.
This is the true story of
Lucky.
I bought my house in September, 2009 and moved in a month later. The yards were overgrown with dried grass, sprawling juniper, and faded, dried branches. During one cleaning excursion I found near the side of the front yard, a pit. It was carved into the ground, and covered with two pieces of wood that had been haphazardly nailed together.
It was a long trench. Nearly three feet long, and a foot deep. It was pretty creepy. And looked as though it could have gone farther. What was its purpose? I’d heard rumors that the previous owner, a fellow cat lover, buried her deceased felines throughout the property. [Don’t worry, this hasn’t been proven… although there are some questionable lumps in the back yard.]
Prior to actually moving in, it didn’t take long for me to hire someone to come in and remove all the dead shrubbery around the house, rake up the dead grass, and fill that ridiculously creepy hole in the ground. [Note to self: in a future blog, explain exactly why creepy yard holes are, well, so creepy.]
It took a few days, but the yard turned out nice. Level. Clean. And filled. I was happy. Dot was happy.
And then it happened. I had some friends over. Neighbors were taking a walk. And since my friend’s husband was close to the driveway, they smiled and waved. He smiled and waved back. And they asked him
“Have you seen the turtle yet?”
What can I say? I’ve never seen him. There was no evidence that he’d been around recently. At all. Except, perhaps, they thought he lived under the wood. And only came out about once a year. Which is, research has proven, very typical of the Federally-protected Desert Tortoise.
That is, until This Girl unwittingly had its home brought down upon it. Never to be seen again. Imagine my angst and horror at learning what I’d possibly been responsible for. But, no. It couldn’t be. Because we never saw a trace of the turtle. Not a clue, not a claw, not a foot, not a paw. No residue or tracks or meal scraps or anything.
It’s a safe bet that the turtle had already left the confines of the property, months before I even knew the house existed. After all, there were caretakers and realtors and property people who took care of everything long before I got here.
And if they knew about the cat bones, surely they’d also know about the Federally-protected Desert Tortoise and remove it to a safer location for its own good.
Surely, I can’t be, what my daughter has often called out, a Turtle Murderer.
I prefer to ignore that supposition, and to believe instead, in the lack of other evidence, that he is somewhere else. Healthy. Happy. And
Lucky.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
