How Many Times Can I Watch 2012 This Year?

Remember a long time ago, during the last year in the last millennium?  The year was 1999 and there was some hoopla over something commonly referred to as Y2K.  Life as we knew it was going to end – or at least drastically change – at the stroke of midnight January 1, 2000.  The year even had its own anthem.  The artist formally known as, or is currently again known as (I can never remember), Prince sung about the ultimate New Year’s Eve for our lifetime in the early eighties.  When the year 1999 rolled around he was poised to receive some hefty royalties that should ensure a lofty retirement.  Or to pay for some therapy to discover if he is in fact a Prince, a symbol, or just a creepy little man.   The song was played ad nauseam that year.  Genius little guy!

It’s 2012 and instead of an anthem, we have a very long movie.  When the movie 2012 came out a few years ago, it was one of those blockbusters the critics panned.  No surprise, isn’t that usually how it works?  But the trailers sold me on the premise completely.  I eagerly awaited its arrival in theaters.  I can handle destruction and chaos – as long as it stays on a movie screen.

Sure, there have been comments about gaping plot holes in the movie.  But it takes a lot to deter me from watching a movie.   After all, I’ve sat through Hallmark Channel movies.  It’s not as if it was mismarketed like other movies (looking at you any post Sixth Sense M. Night Shyamalan movie).  The movie delivered pretty much what I wanted to see.  Utter destruction of the world as we know it while I sit in the comfort and safety of a movie theater?  Check.

It wasn’t the most memorable of movies.  I forgot almost the whole storyline.  Only certain keywords stuck out to me: 2012, modern day arks, and Yellowstone National Park (which oddly enough, this movie gave me the desire to revisit the park).  This week it’s been on tv twice (and it’s only January).  I’ve been able to catch a little bit of it and now I remember.  I remember what I didn’t like about it.

First of all, it has a running time of 158 minutes.   That’s 2.5 hours in the theatrical release.  Now that commercials are being thrown in it probably takes a full evening.  I have the attention span of a gnat.  And really, after the first few buildings fall into the ocean, how much annihilation can I actually handle watching at once? 

Second, I’m fine with California falling into the ocean.  I’m okay with Yellowstone blowing up.  I can handle the whole secretive ark building in China.  Although, China?  Really?  I can accept the heads of nations hand picking the survivors.  And I can even live with the fact the little hero family makes it all the way to China just in time to be saved.  After all that, I’m willing to hang in there.   And then – spoiler alert – Gordon dies.  So, after sitting through a movie in which the entire world is destroyed and masses of people are killed, the with-it boyfriend dies and the slacker dad lives (he took his kids on a camping trip in a limo for crying out loud!).  It gave the movie a forced happy ending to serve as a band aid for all the obliteration.  A note to the movie writers:  it’s kinda movie making 101 to make the boyfriend a heel before killing him off.  I thought that was common knowledge.  Guess not.  Glad I can help.

It’s only January and I’ve already watched this movie more than I thought I would.  It’s going to be a long year.

The Progression of the Picture

(sigh) I’m not a model.  I know this; I’ve come to accept this.  When I was in college, I took a photography class.   Or at least, I started the class.  I had to drop out because, as I found out on day 2, photography is an expensive habit.  But the one thing I remember during my week of class is this:  a photographer doesn’t take pictures, a photographer makes pictures.  Okay, so can I blame all the photographers that have ever aimed a camera in my direction for me not having one good picture of myself?   Didn’t think so.

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You Say OCD, I Say Quirky

My mom enjoyed playing Solitaire on the computer.  She spent a lot of time playing game after game.  After she became so sick that she couldn’t sit at the computer anymore, I bought her a little handheld Solitaire game.  The screen was smaller and only displayed in monochrome.  She refused to play it.   I learned how to play it so I could show her how easy it was play.  She chose not to learn.

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Do Over!

I once sneezed and threw my back out.  Go ahead, reread that sentence again.  It wasn’t an abnormally big sneeze.   I don’t think I was in an awkward position when it happened.  If I remember right, it was just a typical run-of-the-mill sneeze and it caused instantaneous pain.  For at least a week, I walked like Frankenstein and with the amount of agony I felt, I probably grunted like him too.  It hurt to move and turning my neck was out of the question.

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F-L-A-K-E Part II

Okay, now I’m starting to get a little worried.

Sign #1:  This morning I performed my normal routine.  I got my lunch out of the freezer, my breakfast out of the cupboard, and my yogurt out of the fridge.    I put everything on the table and retrieved my bag.  Before I loaded my falling-apart-but-I-refuse-to-get-rid-of-it-because-I-got-it-from-the-Art-Institute-and-it-makes-me-feel-pretentious bag, I went into the living room and opened the curtains.  Even if nobody was going to be home all day, the house still needed sunshine.  I went back into the kitchen and stuffed everything in my bag and left.  When I arrived at work, I emptied the contents from my bag and discovered I was yogurtless.  Despite getting the yogurt out and putting it RIGHT NEXT to my bag, I still forgot it!  (sigh)

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Chalk it Up to Poor Planning

I braved the Wal-Mart crowd yesterday.  Regarding a couple of my purchases, it was not the most productive shopping experience.  First, I decided I needed a new shower curtain.  I had actually taken the time before hand to map out my shopping route.  A shower curtain should be with the bathroom fixture items, right?  Wrong.  It was over in the domestic aisles by the curtains and sheets.  Right off the bat my painstaking effort to map out my shopping route was foiled.  So much for a quick trip to the store. Continue reading →

Mize’well Post this Blog

My friend JJ is moving home to North Carolina on Tuesday.  Even though she will be missed here, I can’t begrudge her the opportunity to be closer to family.  And to live in a warmer climate.  I might be a little jealous regarding that last note.  Anyway, JJ and her husband are packing as I’m typing this blog and they are getting ready to move their not so little U-Haul 2100 miles.  That’s a little bit longer adventure than my 187 mile U-Haul trip this past summer.  Instead of three hours like it took NJ and me, it will take them 3 days.  Ick.  The family closeness thing better be worth it.

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Only a Dream

I had my first posthumous dream of my mom last night.  She looked circa 1988 – the same year my brother and sister-in-law were married.  In other words, 1988 was a photo op year for our family and we have plenty of pictures of even the most camera-shy of us.  Including mom.

All of her family formed a line and instead of hugging her, we bombarded her with questions.  Mom was always command central in our family and since she’s been gone, certain things have, well, kinda fallen to pot.  It started with not being able to find the prepaid funeral arrangements for her.  We found the paperwork finally.  She had put everything we needed in a file labeled, “Funeral Arrangements.”  Go figure. 

Since then, we have looked for titles to cars (found in a file labeled, Cars), bills, tithing checks, etc.  You name it, we’ve had to search for it.  Or so it seems.  So when she appeared in my dream last night, each of us had plenty of questions for her.  Mine had to do with a certain recipe that hasn’t worked out so well for me.  I never did get an answer – shucks.

I remember the look on her face after all the questions.   She seemed to say, “I came all the way back – for this?”  In my dream I thought, “This isn’t so bad.  I can still communicate with mom.”  But then I woke up.  As the day wore on and I realized it was just a dream, I sunk back into the reality of, “No, I can’t communicate with mom anymore.”  Dang me!  Hopefully, in my next dream I’ll have the presence of mind to ask fewer questions and give more hugs.