TGIA (Thank Goodness It’s August)
New Reviews on NightsAndWeekends.com Since Last Time:
Rush Hour 3
Becoming Jane
Hot Rod
Last night, I finally did it—I finally pulled myself out of the giant, stinking pit of unwritten reviews. Thank goodness it’s August!
Mind you, in order to accomplish that task, I actually skipped two screenings this week. But hey, you do what you have to do. And now I’ve written reviews of every book I’ve read, every movie I’ve seen (though, of course, I still have that pile on my coffee table—but I’m getting through those, too), and every game I’ve played in recent weeks. My To Be Reviewed list is empty. And I can’t tell you how wonderful that feels. Last night, after I finished that last book review that I’d been putting off for much too long, I decided to celebrate by running out to the mall and buying myself a new pair of shorts (contrary to popular belief, I do actually wear them from time to time). But, of course, the shorts that I wanted—the ones that I already have in tan and wanted another pair in any other color—were no longer available in my size. There were three pairs of white shorts there, taunting me, all in ridiculous sizes, like 0 or 00 or something. I don’t think I’ve ever been a size 00—not even when I was in third grade. So that put a serious damper on my celebration. So I went home and mixed myself a drink instead.
But anyway, let’s go back to the beginning of the week….
As I mentioned earlier, I played a lot of hooky this week—so I only ended up going to two screenings. The first one was Rush Hour 3 on Monday night. It had been a hectic day, as Mondays usually are. But this Monday was made just a little more hectic by our camping weekend—which was a whole heck of a lot of fun, actually. Or at least it was right up until the point that it started raining. Did I say rain? I meant flash flood. And did I mention that we were in a tent? And that we got to our campsite late on Friday night—when it was dark—and we chose to set up the tent on the nicest, flattest part of the site, as opposed to the highest part of the site? So when I woke up on Sunday morning, we were, quite literally, floating. There was at least an inch—maybe two—of water under our tent. So we frantically got everything ready and packed it in our car (except the tent, of course—since we were hoping it would stop raining long enough for our tent to dry out before we took it down). Then we drove our car over to the motor home, where my brother and his family were just finishing their breakfast of bacon and eggs and toast while watching TV. We pretty much camped out in the motor home for most of the day, until it was time to leave—then the sun came out just in time for us to take down our sopping tent and throw it in garbage bags. And when we finally got home (after a longer-than-expected four-hour drive), we had to set up the tent in the garage to let it dry. So, yeah. We were a little beat come Monday.
Not only that, but I once again headed out to knitting on Monday afternoon. Over the last couple of weeks, I hadn’t had any kids show up to knit with me—so I ended up driving 20 minutes to get there, then waiting a half hour, then driving the 20 minutes back. This week, however, we decided that I’d just skip it—and if someone actually showed up, they could call me and I’d drive out. I was actually relieved not to have to make the trip—since I had lots of catching up to do and another screening at 7:30—but, of course, I got the call. So I packed up my knitting and my work and headed out. When I got out at 6, I rushed to the theater. Then, noticing that I was early, I stopped in at Old Navy—which began this whole obsession with buying new shorts.
So anyway, I made my way back to the theater and took some notes on a CD while waiting for my husband to show up. When he did, we made our way into the theater, just as they were starting to let in the general public.
It’s always interesting to see which kinds of movies draw which kinds of crowds—and Rush Hour 3 definitely drew the loudest and most obnoxious of crowds. Things were definitely rowdy before the screening started—and poor Jason ended up seated next to someone’s baby (who, actually, was probably better behaved than the rest of the crowd). When the DJs from the sponsoring radio station got up to do their spiel, the woman behind me kept yelling down at them, as though she were having a private conversation with them. That made me a little worried about the rest of the screening—since I was pretty sure I’d have to spend the movie struggling to hear Chris Tucker over the woman behind me (then again, I’m not sure which of the two would be more irritating).
But, as it turned out, the crazy woman behind me wasn’t the most irritating person in the theater. Surprise, surprise. The most irritating person in the theater was actually some guy in the very front, off to the left. The one with the Bluetooth headset, which he left on during the movie, which meant that there was a little blue flashing light, flashing, flashing, flashing all through the movie. I found it amazing, since security was especially heavy—and the big, burly security guys with their night-vision goggles kept harassing anyone who might possibly have a cell phone on them. But the flashing blue light on this guy’s Bluetooth…no big deal. I guess you can’t really pirate a movie with a Bluetooth headset. So no harm, no foul.
On Tuesday night, we were once again back at the theater for Stardust. I was on my own for the night, after having said hello and good-bye to my husband as he came home from work and I left to go back to it. So I got there in plenty of time to hang out before the screening and discuss Harry Potter and the crazy old lady who shows up at just about every screening, claiming to be press, even though she really isn’t. We call her Hazel. But perhaps her real name is Gert.
We also spent some time discussing the mysterious disappearance of Neil and Kevin, whom we haven’t seen since they left for Comic-Con. It appears as though Neil is actually still out there somewhere—though he tells me he’s spent the week attempting to recover from his journeys. But I have yet to hear from Kevin. My guess is that he ended up in a brawl of some sort (or an unsanctioned eating competition) with an angry geek and ended up in a California prison. And maybe now he’s still out there, hanging out with his new prison buddies, like Paris Hilton. And perhaps he has a prison tattoo on his head.
The more I think about it, the more worried I am for Kevin. So if you happen to run into a jolly fat, bald guy (with or without a prison tattoo on his head), could you please check to see if it’s Kevin? And if it is Kevin, could you tell him to let us know he’s okay? Thanks.
The Stardust screening was actually pretty empty—which is too bad, since it was such a fun movie. If you liked The Princess Bride (and who didn’t?), go see it.
So Wednesday was yet another screening of Superbad—but I chose to skip it, in favor of watching my husband’s last hockey game of the season. It was clearly an important game, since five other spectators showed up—which, I believe, might be a record. Two were probably dads—and they ended up getting bored and leaving early. One was a wife who spent half the game on her phone. And the other two were a player’s new bride and a friend, who didn’t shut up for a single second during the game (but if you’d like to hear about the wedding pictures or the bride’s job or her friend’s feelings on the upcoming school year, I can tell you all about those). As annoying as it was, though, it made me feel right at home. It was just like going to a screening.
Then, on Thursday, I was planning on another screening (really—I was totally planning on going to screenings Monday through Thursday night this week), but then I decided that I was so close to reaching my goal of breaking even that I’d just stay home and finish. I also did some laundry, which means that I actually have something other than old track pants to wear today. And then I went on an unsuccessful shopping trip, which still makes me just a little bit angry and bitter.
And now that I’m caught up, I decided to take the day to do fun stuff—stuff like watching all those DVDs that are waiting on my coffee table. Or like diving into that pile of books.
But, realistically, I’ll most likely end up spending the day attempting to wade through my overflowing inbox. Wish me luck—and if I’m not out by next Friday, call 911.
Rush Hour 3
Becoming Jane
Hot Rod
Last night, I finally did it—I finally pulled myself out of the giant, stinking pit of unwritten reviews. Thank goodness it’s August!
Mind you, in order to accomplish that task, I actually skipped two screenings this week. But hey, you do what you have to do. And now I’ve written reviews of every book I’ve read, every movie I’ve seen (though, of course, I still have that pile on my coffee table—but I’m getting through those, too), and every game I’ve played in recent weeks. My To Be Reviewed list is empty. And I can’t tell you how wonderful that feels. Last night, after I finished that last book review that I’d been putting off for much too long, I decided to celebrate by running out to the mall and buying myself a new pair of shorts (contrary to popular belief, I do actually wear them from time to time). But, of course, the shorts that I wanted—the ones that I already have in tan and wanted another pair in any other color—were no longer available in my size. There were three pairs of white shorts there, taunting me, all in ridiculous sizes, like 0 or 00 or something. I don’t think I’ve ever been a size 00—not even when I was in third grade. So that put a serious damper on my celebration. So I went home and mixed myself a drink instead.
But anyway, let’s go back to the beginning of the week….
As I mentioned earlier, I played a lot of hooky this week—so I only ended up going to two screenings. The first one was Rush Hour 3 on Monday night. It had been a hectic day, as Mondays usually are. But this Monday was made just a little more hectic by our camping weekend—which was a whole heck of a lot of fun, actually. Or at least it was right up until the point that it started raining. Did I say rain? I meant flash flood. And did I mention that we were in a tent? And that we got to our campsite late on Friday night—when it was dark—and we chose to set up the tent on the nicest, flattest part of the site, as opposed to the highest part of the site? So when I woke up on Sunday morning, we were, quite literally, floating. There was at least an inch—maybe two—of water under our tent. So we frantically got everything ready and packed it in our car (except the tent, of course—since we were hoping it would stop raining long enough for our tent to dry out before we took it down). Then we drove our car over to the motor home, where my brother and his family were just finishing their breakfast of bacon and eggs and toast while watching TV. We pretty much camped out in the motor home for most of the day, until it was time to leave—then the sun came out just in time for us to take down our sopping tent and throw it in garbage bags. And when we finally got home (after a longer-than-expected four-hour drive), we had to set up the tent in the garage to let it dry. So, yeah. We were a little beat come Monday.
Not only that, but I once again headed out to knitting on Monday afternoon. Over the last couple of weeks, I hadn’t had any kids show up to knit with me—so I ended up driving 20 minutes to get there, then waiting a half hour, then driving the 20 minutes back. This week, however, we decided that I’d just skip it—and if someone actually showed up, they could call me and I’d drive out. I was actually relieved not to have to make the trip—since I had lots of catching up to do and another screening at 7:30—but, of course, I got the call. So I packed up my knitting and my work and headed out. When I got out at 6, I rushed to the theater. Then, noticing that I was early, I stopped in at Old Navy—which began this whole obsession with buying new shorts.
So anyway, I made my way back to the theater and took some notes on a CD while waiting for my husband to show up. When he did, we made our way into the theater, just as they were starting to let in the general public.
It’s always interesting to see which kinds of movies draw which kinds of crowds—and Rush Hour 3 definitely drew the loudest and most obnoxious of crowds. Things were definitely rowdy before the screening started—and poor Jason ended up seated next to someone’s baby (who, actually, was probably better behaved than the rest of the crowd). When the DJs from the sponsoring radio station got up to do their spiel, the woman behind me kept yelling down at them, as though she were having a private conversation with them. That made me a little worried about the rest of the screening—since I was pretty sure I’d have to spend the movie struggling to hear Chris Tucker over the woman behind me (then again, I’m not sure which of the two would be more irritating).
But, as it turned out, the crazy woman behind me wasn’t the most irritating person in the theater. Surprise, surprise. The most irritating person in the theater was actually some guy in the very front, off to the left. The one with the Bluetooth headset, which he left on during the movie, which meant that there was a little blue flashing light, flashing, flashing, flashing all through the movie. I found it amazing, since security was especially heavy—and the big, burly security guys with their night-vision goggles kept harassing anyone who might possibly have a cell phone on them. But the flashing blue light on this guy’s Bluetooth…no big deal. I guess you can’t really pirate a movie with a Bluetooth headset. So no harm, no foul.
On Tuesday night, we were once again back at the theater for Stardust. I was on my own for the night, after having said hello and good-bye to my husband as he came home from work and I left to go back to it. So I got there in plenty of time to hang out before the screening and discuss Harry Potter and the crazy old lady who shows up at just about every screening, claiming to be press, even though she really isn’t. We call her Hazel. But perhaps her real name is Gert.
We also spent some time discussing the mysterious disappearance of Neil and Kevin, whom we haven’t seen since they left for Comic-Con. It appears as though Neil is actually still out there somewhere—though he tells me he’s spent the week attempting to recover from his journeys. But I have yet to hear from Kevin. My guess is that he ended up in a brawl of some sort (or an unsanctioned eating competition) with an angry geek and ended up in a California prison. And maybe now he’s still out there, hanging out with his new prison buddies, like Paris Hilton. And perhaps he has a prison tattoo on his head.
The more I think about it, the more worried I am for Kevin. So if you happen to run into a jolly fat, bald guy (with or without a prison tattoo on his head), could you please check to see if it’s Kevin? And if it is Kevin, could you tell him to let us know he’s okay? Thanks.
The Stardust screening was actually pretty empty—which is too bad, since it was such a fun movie. If you liked The Princess Bride (and who didn’t?), go see it.
So Wednesday was yet another screening of Superbad—but I chose to skip it, in favor of watching my husband’s last hockey game of the season. It was clearly an important game, since five other spectators showed up—which, I believe, might be a record. Two were probably dads—and they ended up getting bored and leaving early. One was a wife who spent half the game on her phone. And the other two were a player’s new bride and a friend, who didn’t shut up for a single second during the game (but if you’d like to hear about the wedding pictures or the bride’s job or her friend’s feelings on the upcoming school year, I can tell you all about those). As annoying as it was, though, it made me feel right at home. It was just like going to a screening.
Then, on Thursday, I was planning on another screening (really—I was totally planning on going to screenings Monday through Thursday night this week), but then I decided that I was so close to reaching my goal of breaking even that I’d just stay home and finish. I also did some laundry, which means that I actually have something other than old track pants to wear today. And then I went on an unsuccessful shopping trip, which still makes me just a little bit angry and bitter.
And now that I’m caught up, I decided to take the day to do fun stuff—stuff like watching all those DVDs that are waiting on my coffee table. Or like diving into that pile of books.
But, realistically, I’ll most likely end up spending the day attempting to wade through my overflowing inbox. Wish me luck—and if I’m not out by next Friday, call 911.
Labels: Rush Hour 3, Stardust, Superbad
posted by kdk at 12:51 PM
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