What About The Accent?

I hate that I love British movies. I used to find their open references to sex hideous, but as I have matured, I have come to find them somewhat endearing. I noticed it a few months ago when I watched The Full Monty. That movie just cracks me up! My favorite part is when they are standing in line at the unemployment office and start rehearsing their moves to the beat of an old 80's song. I think I replayed that part about three times over. (Hey, I am easily amused.) Then, I watched Love Actually last night. I had seen it before, but this time was different. I was really able to get into the characters and felt like I was almost in the room with the situations. The movie (if you haven't seen it) jumps from couple to couple that are each having their set of relationship difficulties. Since it is set in the Christmas season, it was the perfect fit! Of course, I could contribute all this endearment to their accent, but I would like to assume I am not that shallow.
I think some movies just have to grow on me. Kinda like music. I remember the first time I saw You've Got Mail. I hated it. It is now one of my favorite chick flicks. I can quote that movie inside and out. I also tend to pick out different styles within a movie. Editing, lighting and music is always a biggie. The best angles I have ever seen were in Citizen Kane. Best music would have to be LOTR, and best editing was Mystic River. It makes me feel good that more goes into myself liking a movie than being suckered by a handsome face or intriguing story line.
Speaking of LOTR, the new extended version came out on Tuesday. I heard they had over 45 minutes of added scenes and am dying to watch it. I am planning on having a marathon for all three extended versions within the next month or so. Looking forward to that! I love when you can get entranced in a movie and really start feeling nervous like it is your life and problem when really it has nothing to do with you! Which reminds me of the time I had a counselor ask me if I escaped my life in television. Granted, I had no idea what she was talking about because I was 12, but she definitely gave me the idea to which I tend to use to this day when I feel my life is the core pit of the cherry.
Well, I am out of the office and off to the shopping races!

Christmas anonymous

I have never surrendered to the decoration obsession of the winter season. I have many friends who have tried to influence me to host garland wrapped banisters and put those cheesy red and green bulbs in my porch lights. Last year I had only been in my new house a month and got away with not putting up a tree at all. What a wonderful feeling to not have to pack up ugly ornaments and try picking every last stinkin icicle strand off the tree and the floor so the dog would eat them. (By the way, I learned fast and will never do that again)

This year I knew I would have to host the variety of my husband's side of the family for Christmas Eve because nobody (conveniently) has the room to entertain. My parents-in-law have a large house, but never clean and have boxes and clutter stacked to the ceiling. (I am not kidding. They had to make a path to get to through their bedroom. She is the kind you read about that saves every newspaper and gives consistent dollar store gifts all year for no reason.) Anyway, my husband has this nasty habit of inviting family that I don't know about. Planning dinner for nine is hard enough. I found out (only by asking) that it has jumped to 12. See, for him it is not a big deal. I am the one that has to cook and clean and be presentable. For those of you who don't know me I am not exactly the "girliest girl" and by no means a good hostess. In a way I wish I was still in our 900 square foot home where I could seat a max of six at the table and had a reason to be a hermit.

Anyway, I had decided that I needed to decorate a little. Most of my family had never even seen my house and I thought I could give them a good first impression and then be set for years of Christmas slacking to come. I started at the craft store looking for a garland for my banister, which is probably the best feature in my home and is quite stunning from the front door. It all fell downhill from there. Instead of a plain garland they had a pretty one with pine cones and berries. Had to get those instead. Then, I needed lights for the garland. And, what would the mantle be like naked? Oh, and then there are the end tables in the family room. And don't forget the kitchen (add a poinsettia table cloth). Oops! I now need a centerpiece for the kitchen table and for the dining room table. But the fake poinsettias are so plain. Add some fake berries and gold flowers to it for spice. But now the dining room looks very ignored. And there is that ledge in ther living room. Six days of decorating later I now have lights taped on windows, am bugging Jay to hang icicle lights outside, and wanting to meet with my mom to decide the best way to do an elaborate centerpiece for the dining room table. The sad thing is that I am still not finished.

So, taking a step back I have realized I have been hypnotized by the twinkling lights of the season. I have become a slave to glittering garland, cinnamon spice candles, and joyful songs of roasting chestnuts. It is not that I have not known I was being pulled in, but more the fact that I didn't want to stop. I insistently wrapped garland in lights for three hours the other night. I have had dreams of buying prelit stars and spraying fake snow on my windows. To the delight of my friends (one in particular named JUDY) I am turning into a "festive girlie girl" I have always despised. Merry Christmas.