Hello Blogosphere, Yes I still Exist
Now that the chaos of the holidays have passed (which involved numerous rounds of sordid and sundry viruses tearing through this house affecting people like the plague), and the thrill of the inauguration is over, and I have finally stopped travelling for my other top secret job; I have taken a moment of respite to share with you an observation I recently made.
As I mentioned before when we moved here we decided not to get cable for various reasons but we did decide to keep our Netflix account open. Because to remove movies from my life would be tantamount to taking a pee on the constitution right in front of Thomas Jefferson. Yes, I love them THAT much. But not just any movies. I am quite picky about my selection which is one of the reasons I love Nexflix. I can find the most obscure and amazing low budget, independent film and pair it with a documentary about kids competing in a spelling bee, have some pizza and beer (ah, those were the days, beer....MMMMMM) and call it a night of magic. Meanwhile, my Husband sits by suffering through most of my selection lamenting how everything I pick out is SOOOOO DEPRESSING and EVERYONE'S ALWAYS ON DRUGS, UGHHHHHHHH. He would rather be sodomized with pruning shears than sit through another of my marathon indie sessions.
Normally I humor him and put one of his picks in the queue every three films or so. It's just that as much as he hates my selections, I hate his even more. Granted, there are the rare exceptions that I'll enjoy, Band of Brothers comes to mind. But otherwise I normally fall asleep to the sound of some big name star narrowly escaping an explosion of some grand scale in a stolen sports car with some hot damsel in distress hanging on for dear life. Not my idea of titillating, but only fair right?
I've been away on business trips on and off for the better part of this month and so I have not been here to lord over the Netflix queue slipping Jeremy's selections discreetly to the bottom of the list. I opened our account up this morning to see what we had coming and chocked on my own laughter because I realized that while I had been away he must have been having one hell of a time compiling his dream list of whatever the opposite of a "chick flick" is. I will hand it to him though, about five down on the queue, there appear to be some selections that perhaps were chosen with me in mind. Aww, who loves me?
Here is a sampling of his selection:
Harold and Kumar Escape From Guantanamo Bay (and he says MY movies involve people on drugs!)
Two Days in The Valley (I actually think I might like that one)
The Good the Bad and the Ugly
WAY too many episodes of Battlestar Galactica (I TOLD you he was Dwight Schrute)
Walmart: The High Cost of a Low Price (He DOES love me!)
And the list goes on.
Nevertheless, it's good to be home. I can put this planet of domestic bliss back on it's proper axis and get it back into orbit. That all starts with the kitchen sink, and the pile of yuckiness that has been accumulating since my absence.