Um...

Isn’t that JUST like me? I say I am going to start reviewing again, practically promise it, and then, kaput. The end. Nothing. God, I wish I could slap myself sometimes. But truthfully, it hurts when you slap yourself, more I think than if someone else slaps you. Maybe it’s because you know it’s coming, you’re anticipating the moment when hard hand strikes your tender cheek, you’re wincing inwardly, wanting to cringe… well, anyway, that is why I can’t slap myself, no matter how much I’d like to. I am too much of a wimp.

I am going to see Cloverfield in a mood totally without expectation. I have seen the previews- jerky camera, people trying to escape from new York, a girl screeching, “What IS IT?” Then I heard from someone that it was a monster that comes out of the sea.

I was like, “Godzilla, you mean?”

“No, if I meant Godzilla, “I'd say it wouldn’t I? "This is nothing like Godzilla at ALL dude. This is a new monster. The Cloverfield one.”

“Why is it called Cloverfield?”

“I.. uh.. because that’s where it comes from.”

“And it’s a monster? A sea monster?”

“Yeah- like Godzilla, but you know, not like him at ALL.”

“And it comes from Cloverfield… which is where, exactly?”

“Well I don’t know. I don’t know all that geology stuff. I just know that’s the name of the movie and so I just figured it meant the monster was from there.”

“Even though you don’t know if there is a where? Or if there is a where, where exactly it would be?”

“Right. … huh?”

Sadly, that is the extent of my knowledge of this movie.

I’ll let you know how it goes.

Oh and I got my hair cut. ALL OFF. I gave it away. It was a moment of clarity. Maybe I will review my new haircut and the new world I have entered of gels, muds, pastes, puttys, waxes and serums. Who knew?

Honey I'm Home, and I had a Hard Day

Self Portarritt

The first thing I’d like to say to those of you who are really persistent and still send me emails and make comments and stuff, even though I have been in my mental breakdown for like, a year or something- you guys rock. I mean that seriously and without an ounce of my usual sarcasm. Welbutrin seems to be doing the trick, although I don’t enjoy smoking nearly as much and yes, that IS a drawback to me, thanks very much. Oh, and I have these really intense, fully-colored and totally bizarre dreams ALL night long… but the doctor tells me, and I am NOT kidding here, “Oh that’s just fine, you never slept much anyway. Just be sure to let me know if you start to have serious thoughts about killing yourself.”

I laughed, but then looked at his face and realized that he was serious. So then I laughed harder.

So… now that I am no longer spending the majority of my time lying on top of my bed, in the same clothes I have been wearing for the last eight days, watching the spiderweb in the corner catch pieces of dust.... Oh, and fingering greasy locks of my hair while considering if a razor could cut through it, or if I'd need to actually cut it before shaving my head bald like my idol and example of how to live life on the edge, Britney... and patiently moving the dog off my lip, because its not the dog's fault I haven't moved in six hours, I'd think my face was a cushion too, and before my children forget entirely what I look like, since it was bad enough that they couldn't remember my name last time I went into the livingroom...

"Hey, um... Mot! (whisper)Is that it? I know it starts with an 'M'.."

"I don't know what it is! I don't talk to it!"

" Uh, Excuse me, Mop? That is your name, isn't it? Mop?"

Polite, strained smiles. "It is really nice of you to visit us, Mob, but you're blocking the t.v., so if you could just move, to the right about six feet, you would be, you know, gone again and we could watch our show... "

"I TRIED, no you get rid of her!"

"It's not MOB, you idiot, it's Motherp, remember? Throw your sandwich in the hall, maybe she'll follow it. I think she can only see things that are moving...."

"Hey Mothit, check out the flying food!"

.... ANYway... I figured it was time to start reading, and watching, and talking about. Or typing about, which is pretty much the same thing to me since I have the actual social life (as in speaking to people face to face) of an average cabbage. Which is to say none, I have none speaking to faces at all.

But you guys…. You know who you are. Damn you for being so fricking nice to me.

:)

I wish blogger would make good smileys, too.

COMING SOOON.......

A marvelous return to blogging from the one and only kaat, as well as a review on the antidepressant welbutrin.
HARDEE HAR HAR.
Don't bite your nails now.
Be back soon. promise.