As I sit down to write this post, I peer over to Boyfriend for inspiration. He's slowly rocking forward and back in his chair, holding a paper in his right hand that's folded open to some article about Conservative stuff. His listless eyes drift from the page to the tobacco pipe his ink-smudged fingers clasp in the opposite hand, he sets down the paper. The pro-gun article will have to wait while Boyfriend lights the tobacco, inhales, and exhales, content. He looks adorable in the plaid collared shirt that sloppily spills out from beneath a forest green cardigan. Oh, excuse me a moment. He's fallen into another impromptu nap and I should really pry that pipe from his fingers before something bad happens.
That's safer. I'll let his snores fill the background as the music to this piece I'm to write. Only, what to write? Maybe I could write about that time...
I bought this really cute dress. It was black, a zipper up to the neck, sleeveless, and sure, showed some leg. I put it on to show Boyfriend, did the model strut and twirl on the imaginary runway. Great dress for cocktails. I flaunt, pose -- nay, vogue -- and ready myself for the compliments that will be showered over me, thinking ahead, I pop open my ducky umbrella and raise it over my head. It's bad luck to open an umbrella indoors. I forgot. Luckily, only the fictionalized version of myself uses the umbrella as a prop. Well Boyfriend? Nice, yeah? ...That's one of those outfits for the bedroom that they sell at the lust stores, right? Uh. No. No no. No. No. Wrong. It so was not. Ask Muse. She'll tell you what's what. And that was no dominatrix deal. It was just a dress! Can wear it in front of my Ma but not Boyfriend. Where's the logic?
Or that other time...
Boyfriend and I were watching the Junos. Then a certain somebody hit the stage. What the hell is that? What? On that guy's head (He points like the Ogopogo just surfaced in our living room). Oh. That's Deadmau5 (I yawn, like, obviously). What's a Deadmau5? You don't know? He's the fifth horseman of the apocalypse. People worship him because they fear his wrath. Just kidding, he's a magician. A magician? Just kidding, he's actually a cyborg. What's a cyborg? You know...robot-y. What's that? Speak up missy. He takes his stare from me and redirects it to the television, What the hell is that?
Ha. I was supremely exaggerating/lying before, but Boyfriend is for real asleep and snoring on the couch now. How do you like that? Maybe I should write about what happened awhile ago...
One time when Boyfriend came to visit me in the Okanagan, in the courtship era. I heard him coming from blocks away, the clip-clop of the horses that led his chuck wagon were unmistakable. He pulled on the reins when they arrived in front of my house, making the horsies come to a halt. One of the horsies had a chip in it and Boyfriend said, I borrowed it from a friend. You can bet I'll have to repair that chip. We were rushing down the highway to get here. That was the day he gave me his letter man jacket and asked me to go steady. Oh wait. I'm wrong. The chip was in a borrowed Mazda and was an entirely different time than when he asked me to be his one and only. Oh. And he didn't ask me to go steady. I got annoyed at him on a telephone call months into our relationship and demanded to know what the deal was. Very romantic deciding not to date other people. In retrospect, this lying mash-up of stories isn't even relevant to the post.
Alright. We'll call this post a wash. I have a better way to describe the Old Man-nerisms of Boyfriend. Stay tuned.
Time for tea,
K
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Movie pet peeves and parkade assassins
I just spent more than an embarrassing amount of time trying to get something off my computer screen with my finger. Turns out it was just a scroll button for the page I was on. Well, in all honesty, it was this page. It's just in a location that doesn't work for me is all. Sheesh.
I thought today I would dedicate to everyone's favourite cultural medium, the film. Boyfriend and I have great difficulty watching movies together. Mostly because he chooses stupid movies, but also for other reasons. Here you are ladies and gentlemen, the top three movie pet peeves:
Movie Pet Peeve #1
Boyfriend is one of those dude-movie fellas. He seldom ventures out of his comfort zone. Boyfriend needs to have one of these elements for him to want to see a film: explosions, hand-to-hand combat, car chases, historical era where the men have vast empires, Charlie Sheen, action-packed adventure where people die and the plot comes second to special effects. We had to implement that system where we take turns picking which movie to go see in the cinema. The thing is...I kind of cheat with that system. If we decide to go on the classic American date (dinner and a movie) we discuss which films we're interested in beforehand. If he says the name of a film I also happen to want to see, I tell him it's his turn to pick the movie. If he wants to see a flick that I would rather press my face against a hot barbeque grill than watch, I use this lovely phrase: You picked the movie last time, the one with that dude and all the explosions, remember? This is followed by Boyfriend looking wistful while he tries to remember, and not wanting to admit a malfunction in memory, he says, Oh, right. It's your turn to pick, you stunning creature. Well, he may not tack that last part on all the time, but he says it with his eyes. To reward him for falling into my trap, I take him to a movie he absolutely abhors. Something with a complicated plot, nerdy comedy, chick flick, or what have you. Another thing that he forgets is his post-movie statement that comes after I choose a movie: You never get to pick that we'll watch again you evil vixen. Again, that last part he says with his eyes. In hindsight it's remarkably similar to the look that calls me a bitch...
Movie Pet Peeve #2
This pet peeve I was reminded of last night. Boyfriend is a notorious re-watcher of movies. Bravehart and Red Dawn top the list. I've seen Bravehart at least four times with him and Red Dawn I haven't sat through in it's entirety, but seen enough pieces of that flick to tell you what happens. Anyway, the pet peeve isn't the fact that Boyfriend is a re-watcher, but this is what gets my goat (I want that goat back by the way, I only have two): He puts on a movie that's been playing on tv for an hour already, one of which I have never seen before and gives me a very loose synopsis. Two sentences are not enough for me to get invested in a film that's already started. Also, Boyfriend: You can't do this and then get fussy when I ask the bazillion questions that I have. Who's that? is the least of your worries. Exhibit C: Casino was on last night. Never seen it before in my life. Why is Sharon Stone acting like a psycho? Drugs. What kind of drugs? Cocaine. I love De Niro's coral suit with the salmon shirt underneath. Want me to get you a classy outfit like that for your birthday? Please don't. Why is Joe Pesci getting beat in that corn field by baseball bats? You know, every time I see his face all I think is Home Alone. Watch the movie. Why are they getting buried in their underwear? So they can't be identified by their clothes. Well that's stupid. Boyfriend's patience astounds me sometimes, it takes him awhile to give me the look of exasperation that I know all too well. You can tell he's just repeating a mantra through his head: Remember, you can't kill her if you love her. Remember, you can't kill her if you love her.
Movie Pet Peeve #3
My mama raised me to be on time for things. I don't like being late for the movies, most of all because I like to watch the previews. Not for Mr Movie Man's voice, it kind of creeps me out...not in the way birds do, but if I were attacked in an underground parkade I would expect the assassin to have that voice. I just like previews of coming attractions. I like to make a mental list of movies I want to schlep Boyfriend to. And, as admitted in previous posts, I'm a snacker. We need to get there, get popcorn, get settled, and get our previews on. Boyfriend likes to get there just as the movie starts. Point of contention in movie night.
Next movie date will be easier. I ordered ether off the internet, and I'll just prop his body into a wagon, drag him to the movie that I want to go to and by the time he comes to, the movie will be half over and he will know how it feels to have all the questions about who's who and what's going on. As German Hilary Clinton would say, "Ich bin dabei. Und ich bin dabei, um zu gewinnen."
Venting over. What have we learned today Boyfriend? There will be a written test later including an MLA formatted essay. Be ready. Your face to me says that you appreciate that I did laundry. You're welcome.
Time for tea,
K
I thought today I would dedicate to everyone's favourite cultural medium, the film. Boyfriend and I have great difficulty watching movies together. Mostly because he chooses stupid movies, but also for other reasons. Here you are ladies and gentlemen, the top three movie pet peeves:
Movie Pet Peeve #1
Boyfriend is one of those dude-movie fellas. He seldom ventures out of his comfort zone. Boyfriend needs to have one of these elements for him to want to see a film: explosions, hand-to-hand combat, car chases, historical era where the men have vast empires, Charlie Sheen, action-packed adventure where people die and the plot comes second to special effects. We had to implement that system where we take turns picking which movie to go see in the cinema. The thing is...I kind of cheat with that system. If we decide to go on the classic American date (dinner and a movie) we discuss which films we're interested in beforehand. If he says the name of a film I also happen to want to see, I tell him it's his turn to pick the movie. If he wants to see a flick that I would rather press my face against a hot barbeque grill than watch, I use this lovely phrase: You picked the movie last time, the one with that dude and all the explosions, remember? This is followed by Boyfriend looking wistful while he tries to remember, and not wanting to admit a malfunction in memory, he says, Oh, right. It's your turn to pick, you stunning creature. Well, he may not tack that last part on all the time, but he says it with his eyes. To reward him for falling into my trap, I take him to a movie he absolutely abhors. Something with a complicated plot, nerdy comedy, chick flick, or what have you. Another thing that he forgets is his post-movie statement that comes after I choose a movie: You never get to pick that we'll watch again you evil vixen. Again, that last part he says with his eyes. In hindsight it's remarkably similar to the look that calls me a bitch...
Movie Pet Peeve #2
This pet peeve I was reminded of last night. Boyfriend is a notorious re-watcher of movies. Bravehart and Red Dawn top the list. I've seen Bravehart at least four times with him and Red Dawn I haven't sat through in it's entirety, but seen enough pieces of that flick to tell you what happens. Anyway, the pet peeve isn't the fact that Boyfriend is a re-watcher, but this is what gets my goat (I want that goat back by the way, I only have two): He puts on a movie that's been playing on tv for an hour already, one of which I have never seen before and gives me a very loose synopsis. Two sentences are not enough for me to get invested in a film that's already started. Also, Boyfriend: You can't do this and then get fussy when I ask the bazillion questions that I have. Who's that? is the least of your worries. Exhibit C: Casino was on last night. Never seen it before in my life. Why is Sharon Stone acting like a psycho? Drugs. What kind of drugs? Cocaine. I love De Niro's coral suit with the salmon shirt underneath. Want me to get you a classy outfit like that for your birthday? Please don't. Why is Joe Pesci getting beat in that corn field by baseball bats? You know, every time I see his face all I think is Home Alone. Watch the movie. Why are they getting buried in their underwear? So they can't be identified by their clothes. Well that's stupid. Boyfriend's patience astounds me sometimes, it takes him awhile to give me the look of exasperation that I know all too well. You can tell he's just repeating a mantra through his head: Remember, you can't kill her if you love her. Remember, you can't kill her if you love her.
Movie Pet Peeve #3
My mama raised me to be on time for things. I don't like being late for the movies, most of all because I like to watch the previews. Not for Mr Movie Man's voice, it kind of creeps me out...not in the way birds do, but if I were attacked in an underground parkade I would expect the assassin to have that voice. I just like previews of coming attractions. I like to make a mental list of movies I want to schlep Boyfriend to. And, as admitted in previous posts, I'm a snacker. We need to get there, get popcorn, get settled, and get our previews on. Boyfriend likes to get there just as the movie starts. Point of contention in movie night.
Next movie date will be easier. I ordered ether off the internet, and I'll just prop his body into a wagon, drag him to the movie that I want to go to and by the time he comes to, the movie will be half over and he will know how it feels to have all the questions about who's who and what's going on. As German Hilary Clinton would say, "Ich bin dabei. Und ich bin dabei, um zu gewinnen."
Venting over. What have we learned today Boyfriend? There will be a written test later including an MLA formatted essay. Be ready. Your face to me says that you appreciate that I did laundry. You're welcome.
Time for tea,
K
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