February 24 (is it the 24th?  I don't know.)
 

This photo is unspeakably funny to me.  Come on! It's funny! Look at her! She looks like she just took a bong hit!
 
 
 
 

So far this weekend, I've gone to see two movies.  Last night, I went with Rob to see...
...

a sort of gloomy but good movie that, quite strangely does not take place....
.  I mean, sure, there are a few scenes here and there, but by and large?  Other rooms of the house.  It was a good movie.  Some might say a GREAT movie, but I couldn't ever quite get past wanting to pinch Sissy Spacek.  I've got some issues, I know. Throughout the whole thing, anytime anyone would utter the words, well...heh...
"", we'd look at eachother, all mock bug eyed and whisper it at the same time. Of course, in the midst of serious dialogue,(I'm not going to give away any of the plot, in case you're still planning on going to see it)or something happening, like say, someone grabbing someone by the hand, one of us would add...uhh...come on, you know, don't make me spell it out for you....
We'd add...say to someone asking a question "Where'd you get that gun??"...(last time, I swear.)

"Why, I found it  ".
 
 
 

So, serious talky snob arthouse film be damned, my true movie love revealed itself today.  The movie I've wanted to see since I'd learned that it was being made was:

 
 

Sometimes, when either Nick or I give Grayson (note: dog in opening photograph) a bath, we notice something funny.  As she's there, sitting sadly under the water spray, she gets this look in her eye.  It's a look that's sort of hard to encapsulate with words, but the closest I can come is that it's a look of utter defeat.  It's a look that says "Damn it, you've trapped my body here, yes! But you will never trap my soul, for I am in my Happy Place.  The place which is Not Here."

I do believe that that's what I saw when I looked over at my husband during Crossroads.  Not even young curvacious Britney could bring him back.  Which is okay, because she's mine anyhow, and I wouldn't want to have to fight him for her.

You know, I can't explain my love for Ms. Britney.  I can't.  I don't have to, but naysayers be damned, I loved this horrible, cheesy movie.  Britney is cute and pretty and sexy and sassy, and even though I think Nick had a seizure at some point during the film, it was true love.  Me and this movie.  Best Friends Forever.  TRUE LOVE. 

No, I can't tell you what it's about.  Does it matter?  No.  It did prove something to me, though--something completely unrelated to delightful Brit (oh yeah, me and her? that time we met, she was all "Dana, y'all [note: she can say y'all because she's from The South.  Are you?  No?  Then stop saying it, and most of all, stop writing it. Thanks!] and me?  We're pals.  Call me Brit.  Want to brush my hair?") and her charming screen debut.  Kim Cattrall is WAY too old to be playing the femme fatale slut ho on Sex in the City.   If she's old enough to be Brit's mom, she's too old to hang out and be vying for the same guys as 30 year olds.  At least, I assume the other gang of beauties on SITC are supposed to be in their 30s.  Really, I might be blowing smoke out of my ass, because I have no idea.  They might all be really well preserved 60 year olds.  Except that short haired chick.  She's just wrong.  WRONG.

After we left the movie, I in my haze of euphoric love and Nick requesting a lobotomy ("Ow! the memory! It hurts! Make it stop!") he kept making horribly mean comments about different scenes, which I will not repeat here, because they are unfounded and completely untrue and totally because he's jealous that she's not HIS good friend, too (except for what he said about the little weird trailer park friend--that shit was all 100 percent dead on).  We went for dinner, and I found myself humming her show stopping open audition song, which, if you must know the truth, isn't my favorite of hers, but it was cute and she got to stare at me all earnestly and virginally and it was all worth while in the end.

When we got home, I came upstairs to take a look at what imdb had to say about it.  One of the reader reviews was so funny, I thought I'd repeat it here.  I'm not completely sure that's legal, but, whatever.  I'll take it down if someone asks me:

User Comments:
Mandi Thibodeaux
New Orleans, LA

Date: 30 January 2002
Summary: Worse then even I expected

We live here in Louisiana, and saw a special screening. Well this movie is an 11 on the predictable scale and a 100 on the sucks scale. Someone (we all know who) needs some acting lessons real real bad. I knew this
movie would be bad, but, God I will be having nightmares about it for weeks. Thank God it was a free screening. But we all know since its Britney it will make a lot of money cause there are many brainless
young girls out their.

Oh, I see.  There are brainless girls out their, are there?  Huh.  You know, I'm no spelling genius, but I most certainly would make sure that when I'm making fun of the brainless Britney Spears fans in the world, I'd consult a dictionary if my insulting skills might be somewhat lacking.  So to you, Mandi Thibodeaux, I extend a hearty go fuck yourself.  Britney doesn't need you.  She needs ME.  An older, wiser friend.  Someone with experience.  Someone who knows the difference between there, their and they're and knows when to use which one.

How random will it be for old Mandi to be googling herself in like 6 months and for her to find herself cursed at by a total stranger?  If I get hate mail, I'll let you know.
 

So, in closing, nothing really took place...

 

and, as far as Crossroads went, Nick says: "It sucked much less than Glitter.  But what could suck more?!"

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