Fever pitch

gotta stay home tomorrow..have a bad fever..

Oscar fever! 

 I miss the Oscar parties we used to attend in Philly..with ballots and big laughs: with costumes honoring the nominees and a pot luck meal that saluted a film or performance. Where the winners were never predictable like they are now. Where the snark flowed like wine at the Golden Globes. Where I actually cared about fashion. Where the tears flowed with the "In Memoriam" segment, until someone would invariably ask, "didn't that person die like five years ago?" Where the hosts weren't non-existent, they were wits like Billy Crystal or Carson. Everyone stayed up 'til way past midnight and everyone remarked that it felt more like 3:00 AM. 

Favorite memory:  Do you remember, James Donio, when you dressed as a nun to salute "Agnes of God" and stopped at a 7/11 for ice?  You got a lot of weird looks, which you addressed with:  "Thank you, my child"

Rebel with a cause

Just treated myself to a matinee of the thoroughly enjoyable "Isn't it Romantic?".

.It's a witty script and a great homage to rom coms that have saturated the cinema. But unlike most of them, this script was smart and clever, and when it was predictable, you were in on the joke.  It's not contrived if you're part of it.

 It's like the best scribes from "Sex and the City" decided to make their characters less sex-starved and pathetic. 

 The cinematography glowed like this mini review, and that's always a nice treat for the eyes.

And while we're on the subject of a nice treat for the eyes, where were those adorable plus-sized heroines in my formative years?  Maybe my twenties would have attracted less hideous sociopaths if I were a little bit more of a Rebel.

We need role models like her, assuring women that they can be judged by the content of their character and not by the contents  of their undergarments.

Unless they carry an ugly  twenty dollar handbag..then by all means, judge away

Scream!

Okay, this was probably due to Luke's incessant licking of my hair and pillow(an appetizer for the comforter entree?)and I could swear this only happens in cheesy movies, but Jim said I woke up screaming last night...or early this morning??

I remember the nightmare vividly too.  I was paralyzed from some kind of gigantic avian or bat-like creature, who wouldn't let me budge from the edge of the bed.  The creature kept cocooning me with this milky, weblike substance.  It was in my hair, nightgown..I couldn't scream or move.

I recall some family members getting up for potty or Internet breaks but nobody helped me. 

 Now, this dream was no less nutty and vague than any other, so I'm not sure if the family was the parents and siblings I grew up with, the husband and son I live with now, or the Mansons.

Maybe a combo. 

But it was so damn scary..

To the person who said as recently as my birthday a few weeks ago, "may all your dreams come true"..I must respond:  "Are you smoking crack cocaine?"

It took forever to fall back to sleep, and it was just as much due to Jim's snoring as it was the attack of the bat creature.

He is so funny with his usual response when I kick him or scream at him about his nocturnal noises.

It's always:  "What did you say about snoring?"

Jim..WTF did you THINK I said besides "stop snoring?"

Am I disturbing your slumber to ask "how do you spell snoring?  What's the best anagram using those letters?"