So, today being Friday, I left work early and went to the movies. I’ve left early on Fridays for as long as I’ve worked there; when the company first started, I was going into work on Saturday mornings and cleaning, and leaving work early on Fridays to compensate. We finally hired a cleaning service about a year ago (and none too soon: imagine what it was like cleaning the bathrooms I have to share with five men. It was pretty rank), but I’ve continued to leave early on Fridays. No one seems to mind. Sometimes I go home, and sometimes I go to the movies.
I went to see "The Story of ‘Us’", which opened today. I walked into the theater, and the youngest person there was at least 20 years my senior. It was a girlie movie. It was about relationships. I couldn’t have dragged Fred to it with all my might, I guarantee you that. I liked the movie. It wasn’t what I expected or hoped for, but I liked it just the same.
If you’re looking for an in-depth movie review, you’re coming to the wrong place, my friends. I can only tell you whether I liked it or not; that’s as deep as my analysis goes. It made me laugh, it made me cry, it made me think, and I don’t resent the $4.50 I spent.
I received my first journal-related email today! Actually, I received two. One was from Fred, and said "Dear Robyn, I read you. You suck. Love, me." Charming, innit? The other was from Stasi of Covet What Was Mine (link removed, since it’s no longer there), and it was lovely. She told me she’d read my archives and that she’d gotten my url off Beth’s message boards. God bless Beth. I knew adding my url to the end of my post would drag in at least one reader. And by coincidence, Stasi’s url was about two down on my "to check out" bookmark list. When checking out a new journal, I prefer to go back in the archives to the beginning, if it just started this year, or to the beginning of the year if it’s been around for ages. If I like the first few entries, I add it to my "to check out" bookmarks, and when I get up to date on a journal, I add it to my "journals" bookmarks, and begin the next one on my "to check out" list.
Fascinating, isn’t it?!
Last night, Fred and I stayed up to watch ER. There was a part where Rebecca De Mornay (I can’t remember her character’s name, sorry) and Dr. Corday are discussing her (Rebecca’s) upcoming mastectomy. "What happens with a mastectomy?" Fred asked, "Does she lose all feeling, or what?" Authoritatively, I replied "Areas of her chest may be numb. I still have a numb spot on my knee where I had it operated on when I was 15." Fred stared at me, amazed. "You do?" he said skeptically. "Let me see." I pointed out the spot next to my knee and ran my finger over it to check. Yep. Still numb. He took a pen and told me to hold out my leg. I did, and leaned back and closed my eyes. (If you’re going to do an experiment, ya gotta do it right) "Do you feel this?" he asked. "Nope," I said. "How about–" "OW! JESUS CHRIST!" I bellowed, jerking my leg away. It hurt like hell. Well, didn’t I feel like a complete idiot as Fred and I fell about the place laughing our asses off.
I guess I just have reduced sensation in that area.
Tomorrow, the spud has a soccer game at 8:30, and has to be at the field at 8:00. (AM, this is) And it’s my turn to take her, so there will be no sleeping in, at least not tomorrow, although I guess I can lounge in the bed until at least 7:00. I think I’ll just take a moment to reflect upon how very lucky I am that Fred will actually take turns going to the spud’s games, and dropping her off and picking her up from practice. Too many women end up doing all the kid-related running around with no help from their husbands; not me! ::quiet moment of reflection::
Okay, moment over. Go tell someone you love them.
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