DVD review: Husbands and Wives.

This film is about marriage.

Am I the last person on earth to call out the biographical tendencies in Woody’s post-funny films? Knowing that a few years hence he’d dump his co-star/wife Mia for her daughter makes this film creepy to watch. As his character’s wife, Mia is portrayed as sneaky, neurotic, dumpy, and disloyal. Uh, Woody? PROJECTION much? (We need “Sassy Gay Friend” here.) You’d think the guy had enough therapy to see what he was doing.

Maybe if I weren’t divorcing, PMSing, sugar/salt bingeing I would have laughed at the few funny bits. I just couldn’t get passed Woody portraying himself as the noble one. Collective ew.

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Movie review: Just go with it.

Would you ever put Jennifer Aniston and Adam Sandler together? Me neither, but it works.

The first scene is a flashback to Sandler’s almost wedding day when he dodges a bullet in the form of a hideous, cheating woman who he finds out is just marrying him because he’s going to be a cardiologist and this other guy who she really loves won’t. That night as he’s drinking away his sorrows in a bar, he gets the super hottest girl by telling her he’s stuck in a horrible marriage to a woman who cheats on him. This schtick sticks.

Jump to the present where he is a successful plastic surgeon and Aniston is his office manager. He’s been using the marriage ploy to great effect until he meets a girl he thinks he really wants but she doesn’t want to be responsible for breaking up a marriage. Aniston pretends to be the ex. The new girl finds out about her kids. They all end up in Hawaii with Sandler’s goofball cousin in tow. Aniston runs into her college fremesis (friend/nemesis) and the farce is off and running. Phew. (During the credits, I noticed it was based on a French play or film. Those French have cornered the market on farces; nobody does them better. La Cage Aux Folles and Three Men and Baby, both French originals.)

So. I laughed out loud several times and that (getting me to laugh during these troubling times) is not easy to do. This was a fun film. I truly enjoyed Sandler and Aniston. They were both charming and human. Nicole Kidman plays the fremesis, which is odd because the film successfully plays for laughs plastic surgery that’s gone too far and Kidman has gone too far. She looked so much better pre surgeries and treatments, no? She’s beginning to look like a parody of herself.

I wouldn’t hesitate taking my man to this film, although I saw it with a girlfriend. I can safely say it’s gender neutral–funny men for the girls and lots of hot bods in bikinis for the boys.

Happy President’s Day.

 

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Spray fabric paint! The new bedazzler.

I was never really that happy with what I did with my $14 Ikea curtains. I really wanted horizontal stripes but that much ribbon would have made them as expensive as silk curtains sewn by Dior himself after he was raised from the dead. Enter this girl. There’s nothing you can’t find on the internet. I went from this:

The old Ikea curtains.

To this:

It only took an hour and 5 cans of $4 spray paint.

I feel so crafty.

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Semi-annual super-cute kitten photo.

He just does these things!

I can’t stand it. He’s so cute. It may be hard to tell from this photo, but Kitten is a big-ass cat and in full winter weight mode. He’s up to 18 lbs. and yet he squeezed all of that cuteness into an open dresser drawer in my son’s room. I’ll say it again, I say it every day: What a cat!!

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Movie review: The Mechanic

Dude movie! Fight scenes! Things getting blown up! Sex with a hot, kind prostitute who has all her teeth! A Chihuahua! (Okay, that’s just my dude.)

The plot: hit man who works for some illicit, elite outfit that has powerful, evil men “removed.” The hit man is played by Jason Statham. (I have to add that if there were more shots of his naked body, this would have been less dude movie and more chick flick.) Our loner mechanic (so called because he fixes problems, i.e. kills drug lords) ends up taking on an apprentice and teaching him the ropes. That’s all I can say without ruining it.

I can appreciate a good dude movie and liked this one. I especially dug Jason’s digs. He lives in this kick-ass (I’m even starting to sound like a dude) house accessible only by boat in a swamp outside New Orleans. It’s all retro modern, wood and glass, draped in gauzy, sea-foam green moss! Beautiful! Here’s the chick part: I spent a bit of the movie fantasizing about living there with Jason and he’s naked all the time.

This is a possible date movie, but better seen by couples in relationships or, better still, married. It’s one of those movies that you can “give” your guy–you know, you see it for him and he feels so grateful he tackles one or two items from your honey-do list.

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There’s no such thing as a free lunch.

I’ve been feeling poorly the last few days, headachy and tired and a bit congested and sneezy. My son has the flu and I blamed it on that, the fact I may be fighting it off myself. Except I never got sick. So I blamed it on my advanced age. I couldn’t even get myself to the gym on Sunday, so yesterday I made myself go to Sawyer Camp Trail and run. I felt like lead. I actually dragged a foot at one point along the asphalt–a sign that I’m too lazy to even pick it up. I kept picturing myself stumbling and wiping out except I was running so slowly, all the old, retired people walking the trail with me would have had enough time to catch me. Then I noticed a blemish between my eyes, then one on my upper lip, and last night another massive eruption began forming on my chin and it all came together in a blinding flash of insight: It’s the damn caramel apple sugar babies!

You can’t eat one box a day (one and a half boxes on the weekend)–without suffering some consequences. I didn’t have any yesterday and I haven’t sneezed once today.

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They’re here!

 

A nearly perfect candy.

A week ago I was at Walgreen’s running the check-out gauntlet of impulse purchases–eye glass repair kits, People magazine, weight loss pills, and other “as seen on TV” personal care items. (Pedi Egg anyone?) Included was a teetering pyramid of “3 for $4” boxes of movie candy, including Caramel Apple Sugar Babies. What? How had this gotten by me?

I snatched up a box, ate half on the way home. It was a Proustian Madeleine moment.  First, I was back in Yosemite Valley during winter riding the shuttle buses through the snow. Then I was sitting at the kitchen table with my grandpa eating slices of green apple sprinkled with salt. Two days later, I made it back  to Walgreen’s for more, but they were gone–a limited edition candy. The three other local Walgreen’s were out, too. Thank God for the Internet.

 

Is 20 boxes enough?

They arrived in three days: 7 lbs. of candy. It was Christmas all over again.

The color is a little off putting, but you can eat them  in the dark.

My top two reasons for going to the Santa Cruz Boardwalk as a kid: The sky ride and caramel apples. However, a caramel apple is difficult and messy to eat. These are bite size and don’t get sticky. One fell out of my duvet as I was making the bed this morning.

Big Guns noticed that on the packing receipt, the Candy Depot recommended microwaving them for a few seconds or leaving them in the sun to further your enjoyment. Just like what that famous food writer, MFK Fisher, did with tangerines.

You know what would make these even better? A touch of sea salt, just like grandpa would do. Anyway, don’t try to go to Walgreen’s to find them.  Stop by my house (quickly) or go online.

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