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I dreamed a dream...
There is a 98% chance that this story will be fleshed out into a short story, primarily because I am 100% sure that my id would like me to do that. Either id or the alien implants. One or the other.
So the other day, I woke up with this dream very freshly on my mind:
I am a member of a crackpot group of biology researchers, focusing on finding a specific gene in a specific species. AND WE DID IT... yes, folks, we discovered that Easter Bunnyism is caused by a genetic malformation (we didn't want to use the word "mutation" because it sounded so negative), and indeed, we were able to identify the specific gene. AND CLONE IT.
We were - I kid you not - bunnyologists. We said this with a straight face.
The world, all astonished with this development, nearly immediately rent into two factions: Bunnyists and Bunnabolishists. I know.
The bunnyists - of which I was one - could find no harm in implanting this gene into ALL bunnies, rendering ALL bunnies Easter Bunnies. It had nothing to do with pooping chocolate, mind you - it was all about the productivity. Because, we reasoned, what good is a bunny that is NOT an Easter Bunny?
The opposition really felt that there was too much "playing God" going on in our little scientific nerd party (the irony), and that bunnies should be left to develop this malformation or not. Leaving the two distinct branches of the bunny family tree.
Please note, at NO TIME were bunnies ever referred to as "rabbits". Bunnies.
I cannot decide if this is profound, intellectual dreaming, or if it is just nutso.
Just delighted, clearly.
It has, just now, come to my attention that I can't spell anymore. I mean, I can spell "anymore", but I can't spell MANY things I could once spell.
Grateful? Greatful?
Scizzors? Scissors? (neither of these look right)
This is painful, since I was once among the Best Spellers In Connecticut (seriously, I was), and I've always been so proud of my spelling.
Ouch.
That being said, most spelling errors here on PSPRTB are due to typing and a desire to NEVER EVER EVER proofread anything.
-----
So you know how I told you spring is here? IT SO IS, and it's fantastic. My friend T-Bell and I have been trying to be runny and fantastic this week, but there are two things we have to get used to. 1) Running while it is hot, and 2) She's on this absolutely-no-sugars-including-carbs diet thingee, and it's wiping her out. So yesterday was not the bomb for the running. We still went our regular, 3.2-mile stretch, but there was more walking than usual. That's okay, we are still mad athletes.
-----
There are too many things for us to choose from this weekend. Our sweet little "downtown" area in our sweet little town is having a block party thingee and that would be fun. There is a parade on Sunday (yes, we WILL be there - I LOVE parades!), and there is always the geocaching. I'm so happy. What a happy problem. Oh, and there's a free concert in the town park on Sunday, after the parade. Seriously. Not to mention a big ol' speed boat that would LOVE to be taken out on the water this weekend. And I think it will be warm enough.
-----
All this being said, I have work to do, so I'm gonna go do that, but... Happy Happy, y'all! HAPPY HAPPY! Join me in my glee, won't you?
Grateful? Greatful?
Scizzors? Scissors? (neither of these look right)
This is painful, since I was once among the Best Spellers In Connecticut (seriously, I was), and I've always been so proud of my spelling.
Ouch.
That being said, most spelling errors here on PSPRTB are due to typing and a desire to NEVER EVER EVER proofread anything.
-----
So you know how I told you spring is here? IT SO IS, and it's fantastic. My friend T-Bell and I have been trying to be runny and fantastic this week, but there are two things we have to get used to. 1) Running while it is hot, and 2) She's on this absolutely-no-sugars-including-carbs diet thingee, and it's wiping her out. So yesterday was not the bomb for the running. We still went our regular, 3.2-mile stretch, but there was more walking than usual. That's okay, we are still mad athletes.
-----
There are too many things for us to choose from this weekend. Our sweet little "downtown" area in our sweet little town is having a block party thingee and that would be fun. There is a parade on Sunday (yes, we WILL be there - I LOVE parades!), and there is always the geocaching. I'm so happy. What a happy problem. Oh, and there's a free concert in the town park on Sunday, after the parade. Seriously. Not to mention a big ol' speed boat that would LOVE to be taken out on the water this weekend. And I think it will be warm enough.
-----
All this being said, I have work to do, so I'm gonna go do that, but... Happy Happy, y'all! HAPPY HAPPY! Join me in my glee, won't you?
NOLA Weather
There is no amount of shine spray that is going to save my hair from becoming a huge, messy, giant mop. Which is sort of awesome.
On the flip side, I will not need moisturizer today, I think.
On the flip side, I will not need moisturizer today, I think.
It's extra sweet that this is his phone wallpaper, too.
Last night, my husband came home after I was in the bed, but before I was asleep. Tiptoe-ing into the room, he was sweet, trying to not wake me up.
"Hey," I said.
"Hey," he said, and he flomped down next to me, phone in hand.
"You know what?" He asked.
"What?" I said.
"Every time I show someone my phone, they say, 'You have a beautiful wife.'"
"Your friends are blind," I said.
And then he showed me his background picture.
Well, maybe so... but we are definitely better together. Especially when backdropped with the World's Ugliest Foyer Wallpaper.
I love him.
(more ball pictures were sent to us yesterday, so I'll have those to share soon, too. Also, despite my flabby upper arm, look at the fabo definition on the lower arm! Thanks, Wii Fit!)
"Hey," I said.
"Hey," he said, and he flomped down next to me, phone in hand.
"You know what?" He asked.
"What?" I said.
"Every time I show someone my phone, they say, 'You have a beautiful wife.'"
"Your friends are blind," I said.
And then he showed me his background picture.
Well, maybe so... but we are definitely better together. Especially when backdropped with the World's Ugliest Foyer Wallpaper.
I love him.
(more ball pictures were sent to us yesterday, so I'll have those to share soon, too. Also, despite my flabby upper arm, look at the fabo definition on the lower arm! Thanks, Wii Fit!)
Spring and some other stuff
It is going to sound cheesy, but I freaking LOVE to live where I live. South Louisiana, you embrace me with your balmy breeze, your pelican fly-bys, your corrupt politics. Seriously, there is at least one day each week that I honest-to-God wake up exhilirated that it wasn't just a dream, I really do live in the best place on Earth. I love it here.
This morning, I noticed trees with buds. !. I'm so happy, hello Spring, ahhhhhhhhh, short-sleeves and shorts on the weekends. Lying outside with my iPod and napping in the yard (yes, sorry, wearing a tube top and shorty shorts, but the yard is fenced in, so at least that's something).
I am particularly partial to tulip trees, but I'll take even the hairy mimosas, the barely-budded crepe myrtles. Whatever, man. Spring is here.
I seem to be forgetting that torential rain storms are likely in the afternoons, that mosquitos WILL give me encephalitis and/or West Nile, and that Round One of LoveBugs2010 is coming soon. None of that matters. Spring is here.
In other news, a quick roundup:
1) Daiquari Cafe, a bar frequented by me at age 17, for "Beat the clock" on Tuesdays, primarily involving digestion of dozens of cherries soaked in Everclear (shudder), followed by a large "Attitude Adjustment" (shudder again), has not changed at all. We stopped in at one to sing karaoke and celebrate my cousin Lola's wedding on Saturday, we being Husband, me and H. It was fantastic. Yes, I did sing me some Olivia Newton John, of course.
2) Mike the Sixth is not MY Mike. Mike the Fifth was, but he died in 2007. Regardless, and this might be evil to say, but Mike VI is more beautiful than anything I have ever seen in my life. Do you live in a place where you can go visit a tiger any time you want, for free? Do you? I do.
3) Pumpkinhead sleeps with a bunny, a ratty light blue-gray nappy stuffed toy, some junk (of course - they never fall in love with the pretty things) - every single night. Last night, right before bed, bunny fell into the toilet. That's all I am going to say about that, except to mention that Husband was at work so it was pretty much on me to fix the crisis. So I did. I'm not going to talk about it (I might be a bit scarred).
4) I finished Geek Love, and I STILL think I read that before, but it was good, worth the re-read. Risten. Whatever. I had one credit left on my audible account and I thought long and hard before plunging in and buying "The Help", and oh, lordy, do I not regret that. I bought it two days ago and am already almost six hours in. READ this, y'all. Or Risten to it, whatever. It's GREAT.
5) My boss called in sick yesterday. Related, I think I can maybe learn to cook by playing "Cafe World" on Facebook.
6) I kind of didn't work out at all last week, I mean, at all, but I'm back on the chain gang this week. Ran 3.2 yesterday... boxing and weight work this morning. Still, my mother told me yesterday that I look like I have lost some weight (I KNOW), and I have, though it is tough to say how much. 8ish pounds? 10? Something like that. Since Christmas, so that's pretty good. Just a couple of pounds a month, and my goal was a pound a week, but still, whatever. I look good (er), and I am happy with this. Running again today, and every day this week, prepping for my 5K In May which is actually 2 miles in April (but that doesn't rhyme). Pretty stoked, honestly.
7) I miss Janie. Living here does not afford me much talk-on-the-phone time, and I haven't talked to her in ages and I miss her! Just wanted to let it be known. I'm scheming to go to Georgia for Easter, so maybe, maybe maybe... maybe I will get to do that and see her then. Keep all your fingers (and toes) crossed that I can make that work.
8) IDOL. Sucks this season. Admit it.
9) Pwoject Wunway. Does not suck this season, though I do not yet have a clear favorite.
10) TOP CHEF. Needs to come back on.
11) Dead Man Walking was filmed in the town where I live (and at Angola, not where I live) and my mother knows Sister Helen Prejean (not because of living here, rather because my mother was also working with the Department of Corrections when the whole DMW thing went down). Yesterday, I met a woman whose sister-in-law was one of the survivors of one of the guys on Death Row who Sister Helen counciled. My My My. So that's what I am googling today. Have a happy day everybody!
This morning, I noticed trees with buds. !. I'm so happy, hello Spring, ahhhhhhhhh, short-sleeves and shorts on the weekends. Lying outside with my iPod and napping in the yard (yes, sorry, wearing a tube top and shorty shorts, but the yard is fenced in, so at least that's something).
I am particularly partial to tulip trees, but I'll take even the hairy mimosas, the barely-budded crepe myrtles. Whatever, man. Spring is here.
I seem to be forgetting that torential rain storms are likely in the afternoons, that mosquitos WILL give me encephalitis and/or West Nile, and that Round One of LoveBugs2010 is coming soon. None of that matters. Spring is here.
In other news, a quick roundup:
1) Daiquari Cafe, a bar frequented by me at age 17, for "Beat the clock" on Tuesdays, primarily involving digestion of dozens of cherries soaked in Everclear (shudder), followed by a large "Attitude Adjustment" (shudder again), has not changed at all. We stopped in at one to sing karaoke and celebrate my cousin Lola's wedding on Saturday, we being Husband, me and H. It was fantastic. Yes, I did sing me some Olivia Newton John, of course.
2) Mike the Sixth is not MY Mike. Mike the Fifth was, but he died in 2007. Regardless, and this might be evil to say, but Mike VI is more beautiful than anything I have ever seen in my life. Do you live in a place where you can go visit a tiger any time you want, for free? Do you? I do.
3) Pumpkinhead sleeps with a bunny, a ratty light blue-gray nappy stuffed toy, some junk (of course - they never fall in love with the pretty things) - every single night. Last night, right before bed, bunny fell into the toilet. That's all I am going to say about that, except to mention that Husband was at work so it was pretty much on me to fix the crisis. So I did. I'm not going to talk about it (I might be a bit scarred).
4) I finished Geek Love, and I STILL think I read that before, but it was good, worth the re-read. Risten. Whatever. I had one credit left on my audible account and I thought long and hard before plunging in and buying "The Help", and oh, lordy, do I not regret that. I bought it two days ago and am already almost six hours in. READ this, y'all. Or Risten to it, whatever. It's GREAT.
5) My boss called in sick yesterday. Related, I think I can maybe learn to cook by playing "Cafe World" on Facebook.
6) I kind of didn't work out at all last week, I mean, at all, but I'm back on the chain gang this week. Ran 3.2 yesterday... boxing and weight work this morning. Still, my mother told me yesterday that I look like I have lost some weight (I KNOW), and I have, though it is tough to say how much. 8ish pounds? 10? Something like that. Since Christmas, so that's pretty good. Just a couple of pounds a month, and my goal was a pound a week, but still, whatever. I look good (er), and I am happy with this. Running again today, and every day this week, prepping for my 5K In May which is actually 2 miles in April (but that doesn't rhyme). Pretty stoked, honestly.
7) I miss Janie. Living here does not afford me much talk-on-the-phone time, and I haven't talked to her in ages and I miss her! Just wanted to let it be known. I'm scheming to go to Georgia for Easter, so maybe, maybe maybe... maybe I will get to do that and see her then. Keep all your fingers (and toes) crossed that I can make that work.
8) IDOL. Sucks this season. Admit it.
9) Pwoject Wunway. Does not suck this season, though I do not yet have a clear favorite.
10) TOP CHEF. Needs to come back on.
11) Dead Man Walking was filmed in the town where I live (and at Angola, not where I live) and my mother knows Sister Helen Prejean (not because of living here, rather because my mother was also working with the Department of Corrections when the whole DMW thing went down). Yesterday, I met a woman whose sister-in-law was one of the survivors of one of the guys on Death Row who Sister Helen counciled. My My My. So that's what I am googling today. Have a happy day everybody!
Five Fun Little Things
1. Just a little while ago, there was some dude videotaping himself talking in front of the little lake by my building. WHAT a WEIRDO. He would tape himself (we knew he was talking by the arm gestures) for several minutes, stop, walk over to the camera on the tripod, review footage, film again. We speculated on what he was doing. A commercial? Public service announcement? He was wearing a hoodie. We spent several minutes shouting things like, "Drugs are whack, Jack!" and "Be cool, stay in school!" But we may never know the truth. Then (because there is publicly assisted housing directly across the street) we decided he was proposing to his wo-man:
"Baby look at this lake! This be all yours, the view you wake to e'ry day. Whey they don't be at work, we can swim and fish and stuff. Baby, I make you the happiest laday in all the world if you just say yes..."
We are for sure going to h-e-double-hockey-sticks.
2. Trying to re-embrace my Lent thing, what with the cussing.
3. Husband took over the tax duty, after I actually cried because the stoopid HR Block online programmy thingee didn't have a place for me to input my Georgia withholding, and so it thought I owed money to Georgia, and I SO DO NOT and it was horrible and stressful and awful and I had to cry and have a big, overblown panic attack, because THAT, folks, is what money does to me. Money is a jerk.
4. My neck, it hates me, I don't know what its deal is, but this morning, on day 3 of a pulled muscle, I reached for the Snooze Button, and I heard/felt *pop*pop*pop* and oooooooohhhhhhhhhGoooooooooodwhyyyyyyyyyyyy all over again. Ibuprofin and yoga do seem to help a little bit, but jeeez. I mean, my whole head is jutting forward because OW OW OW OW OW! For real! I blame taxes. And Texas.
5. On April 12, my boss is taking us all to this. Not so much looking forward to that. I will enjoy making fun of it, though, and I suspect that it will fully either convert me into a conservativeblowhard reformist, or else it will push my over the edge of liberalism into full blow communism. Laura Bush for the win!
That's all. Happy weekend, loveys!
"Baby look at this lake! This be all yours, the view you wake to e'ry day. Whey they don't be at work, we can swim and fish and stuff. Baby, I make you the happiest laday in all the world if you just say yes..."
We are for sure going to h-e-double-hockey-sticks.
2. Trying to re-embrace my Lent thing, what with the cussing.
3. Husband took over the tax duty, after I actually cried because the stoopid HR Block online programmy thingee didn't have a place for me to input my Georgia withholding, and so it thought I owed money to Georgia, and I SO DO NOT and it was horrible and stressful and awful and I had to cry and have a big, overblown panic attack, because THAT, folks, is what money does to me. Money is a jerk.
4. My neck, it hates me, I don't know what its deal is, but this morning, on day 3 of a pulled muscle, I reached for the Snooze Button, and I heard/felt *pop*pop*pop* and oooooooohhhhhhhhhGoooooooooodwhyyyyyyyyyyyy all over again. Ibuprofin and yoga do seem to help a little bit, but jeeez. I mean, my whole head is jutting forward because OW OW OW OW OW! For real! I blame taxes. And Texas.
5. On April 12, my boss is taking us all to this. Not so much looking forward to that. I will enjoy making fun of it, though, and I suspect that it will fully either convert me into a conservative
That's all. Happy weekend, loveys!
Fun with shots!
Have I mentioned before, how much I enjoy going to the doctor? Yes? No? Implied it, maybe?
Well, it's true. I effing LOVE to go to the doctor. I love love love it. I know that's weird, and I don't know why. Maybe because she makes me feel better. Maybe because she has kind, sympathetic eyes. Maybe because the inch-thick folder that she carries in with me details my crazy better than anything else in the world, and yet, she still has kind, sympathetic eyes.
Ahhh, Dr. Cindy. You are the best.
Yet, here is the problem. Dr. Cindy does not live in South Louisiana. Not for nothing, I tried to convince her to relocate, but she wasn't interested (actually I did see some yearning in her eyes... I know she must regret not getting to hang with me at least monthly anymore).
And I don't have a doctor here (yet). I do have insurance, I don't know what the hold-up is, but...
What if they won't like me? What if theyrecognize think that I am a bit of a nutjob somewhat anxious? What if they won't be nice to me and make me cry?
I'm not sure I am ready to take that chance. All this being said, I have not been to the doctor in over seven months. SEVEN. And this is madness. Sheer, unadulterated madness.
My neck hurts (that danged pulled muscle, again), but yoga helps. I haven't really (this is crazy talk) gotten sick here. My lady parts are all in order. I don't take any meds that need refills (yet).
And I'm hoping for a visit to Georgia soon. Perhaps I can drop in on Dr. Cindy while I am up there, so we can catch up.
(I honestly think she would groan aloud if she saw me walk into her office, but I really enjoy this visual)
Well, it's true. I effing LOVE to go to the doctor. I love love love it. I know that's weird, and I don't know why. Maybe because she makes me feel better. Maybe because she has kind, sympathetic eyes. Maybe because the inch-thick folder that she carries in with me details my crazy better than anything else in the world, and yet, she still has kind, sympathetic eyes.
Ahhh, Dr. Cindy. You are the best.
Yet, here is the problem. Dr. Cindy does not live in South Louisiana. Not for nothing, I tried to convince her to relocate, but she wasn't interested (actually I did see some yearning in her eyes... I know she must regret not getting to hang with me at least monthly anymore).
And I don't have a doctor here (yet). I do have insurance, I don't know what the hold-up is, but...
What if they won't like me? What if they
I'm not sure I am ready to take that chance. All this being said, I have not been to the doctor in over seven months. SEVEN. And this is madness. Sheer, unadulterated madness.
My neck hurts (that danged pulled muscle, again), but yoga helps. I haven't really (this is crazy talk) gotten sick here. My lady parts are all in order. I don't take any meds that need refills (yet).
And I'm hoping for a visit to Georgia soon. Perhaps I can drop in on Dr. Cindy while I am up there, so we can catch up.
(I honestly think she would groan aloud if she saw me walk into her office, but I really enjoy this visual)
Taxes make me either want to vomit or take happy pills.
I'm going with option B.
All I know is, you're supposed to press on the gas thingee and it's supposed to go forward.
It would seem to run in the family. I am, as it were, a donkey. Perhaps a donkey's bohonkus, even.
This morning, not even an hour ago, we got in the car to head over to Pumpkinhead's daycare. Everything was great, we sipped on orange juice and jammed out to "Don't Stop Believing" ("I don't wike to sing to this song, I just wike to wisten to it, but you can sing it," he said.) All was fine.
We got to the daycare in about 3 minutes (it's a mile from our house). I stopped the car and turned it off, and tried to pull out the keys, but they wouldn't budge. Figuring they were jammed or something, I tried to restart the car and go through the whole process again. The car would not start.
Squelching panic, I took the child inside and checked him in, returning to my car. Tried to start it again. No luck. Fully panicking now, I tried to call my husband. No answer. I texted him, "call me 911." I called my dad. No answer. Swallowing back tears of frustration at being stuck in the parking lot of a daycare, I called 411 and got Husband's work number. Called that.
"I'm sorry, I need to speak to (Husband) - it's an emergency!"
Two seconds and he was on the phone.
"Ohmygod the car won't start and I can't take the key out and it's broken and like the ignition switch or something is stuck and ohmygod what am I supposed to do - hold on one second -"
I put the car in "Park".
"Never mind, sorry. Everything's fine. Have a good day."
Re-effing-tarded, and I mean that in the truly developmentally delayed way, not some kind of insulting slur.
I am pretty sure they ought to not issue drivers' licenses to people like me.
At least I am cute. A cute Donkey's Bohonkus.
(the good news is, my car is not broken.)
This morning, not even an hour ago, we got in the car to head over to Pumpkinhead's daycare. Everything was great, we sipped on orange juice and jammed out to "Don't Stop Believing" ("I don't wike to sing to this song, I just wike to wisten to it, but you can sing it," he said.) All was fine.
We got to the daycare in about 3 minutes (it's a mile from our house). I stopped the car and turned it off, and tried to pull out the keys, but they wouldn't budge. Figuring they were jammed or something, I tried to restart the car and go through the whole process again. The car would not start.
Squelching panic, I took the child inside and checked him in, returning to my car. Tried to start it again. No luck. Fully panicking now, I tried to call my husband. No answer. I texted him, "call me 911." I called my dad. No answer. Swallowing back tears of frustration at being stuck in the parking lot of a daycare, I called 411 and got Husband's work number. Called that.
"I'm sorry, I need to speak to (Husband) - it's an emergency!"
Two seconds and he was on the phone.
"Ohmygod the car won't start and I can't take the key out and it's broken and like the ignition switch or something is stuck and ohmygod what am I supposed to do - hold on one second -"
I put the car in "Park".
"Never mind, sorry. Everything's fine. Have a good day."
Re-effing-tarded, and I mean that in the truly developmentally delayed way, not some kind of insulting slur.
I am pretty sure they ought to not issue drivers' licenses to people like me.
At least I am cute. A cute Donkey's Bohonkus.
(the good news is, my car is not broken.)
Lessons from Date Night
1. Acme Oyster House is not the kind of place to wear high heels. Also, they do not have steak.
2. The one laser tag place on the Northshore closes at 10:00.
3. Bowling in Slidell is an adventure all of its own, but - and this is a Big But - there IS a hair style place at the bowling alley. Let me pause there for a minute.
...
I KNOW.
The Macarena was playing as we walked into the place, which had at least a third of the town's entire population in it, and let me just say this... not the best 1/3, if you know what I am saying. I think some inbreeding has taken place. But they sure do know how to do the Macarena.
Additionally, we could not bowl, in that we had no reservation (I KNOW) and we didn't have four people, so we were sent on our way... but we didn't find this information out until the man behind the counter had finished doing the Macarena. I KNOW.
4. Paranormal activity probably does happen, I think, I mean, I think it could. My husband and his aunt experienced a ghosty moment in a house she used to have. I was awakened night after night after night by a whispered, "Hey," in one apartment, always getting out of bed and going into Beanie's room, assuming that it was him and he needed something, only to find him soundly asleep. But my whisperer was hardly menacing - nothing frightening at all - and Husband wasn't scarred for life or anything. This all being said, the movie? Eh. Whatever. At first, I kinda liked it, what with the little movements and thumpy steps, that was all good. It got a little too weird and not scary later, though. I am glad that I watched it, and I am equally glad that I did not pay to do so.
As an aside, Janie, my mom and I went on a "ghost tour" of the French Quarter one time, and saw nothing. NOTHING. But we did enjoy the drinky stops along the way, of which there were several.
5. Sometimes the perfect date night has nothing to do with laser tagging or bowling or steaks. Sometimes, it's just all about the company, and the perfect ending is watching a movie in the living room, sharing spaces on the gigantic l-shaped sectional (so nobody has to actually touch if they don't want to), and being kinda nappy.
I had a fun date night.
2. The one laser tag place on the Northshore closes at 10:00.
3. Bowling in Slidell is an adventure all of its own, but - and this is a Big But - there IS a hair style place at the bowling alley. Let me pause there for a minute.
...
I KNOW.
The Macarena was playing as we walked into the place, which had at least a third of the town's entire population in it, and let me just say this... not the best 1/3, if you know what I am saying. I think some inbreeding has taken place. But they sure do know how to do the Macarena.
Additionally, we could not bowl, in that we had no reservation (I KNOW) and we didn't have four people, so we were sent on our way... but we didn't find this information out until the man behind the counter had finished doing the Macarena. I KNOW.
4. Paranormal activity probably does happen, I think, I mean, I think it could. My husband and his aunt experienced a ghosty moment in a house she used to have. I was awakened night after night after night by a whispered, "Hey," in one apartment, always getting out of bed and going into Beanie's room, assuming that it was him and he needed something, only to find him soundly asleep. But my whisperer was hardly menacing - nothing frightening at all - and Husband wasn't scarred for life or anything. This all being said, the movie? Eh. Whatever. At first, I kinda liked it, what with the little movements and thumpy steps, that was all good. It got a little too weird and not scary later, though. I am glad that I watched it, and I am equally glad that I did not pay to do so.
As an aside, Janie, my mom and I went on a "ghost tour" of the French Quarter one time, and saw nothing. NOTHING. But we did enjoy the drinky stops along the way, of which there were several.
5. Sometimes the perfect date night has nothing to do with laser tagging or bowling or steaks. Sometimes, it's just all about the company, and the perfect ending is watching a movie in the living room, sharing spaces on the gigantic l-shaped sectional (so nobody has to actually touch if they don't want to), and being kinda nappy.
I had a fun date night.
