Apparently, we are the party...
On Saturday John and I puttered around doing just about nothing as far as I can tell--but somehow it became 7:30pm and we realized that there was very little booze and no beer in the house...this made the two of us nervous, so we flew to the beer distributor, grabbed a case and then decided to make it a movie night.
Blockbuster, ah how I hate thee...
We wanted The Hills Have Eyes, the new version, the old version...any freakin' version! Not there...a shelf space the size of my car, and there were no copies there--wtf? A town the size of the Cornfield means that every single household except for ours was watching The Hills Have Eyes. So then we browsed...and browsed...and browsed--oh and there was that incident where we ran into an old friend of John's and I was a greasy, glasses clad mess who knocked over whole shelves of movies with the flick of an elbow--Good Impressions--that's my middle name. We had been burned with two weeks of disasterous picks. Last weekend we rented Waiting...and then we waited for something funny to happen. We also rented Death Tunnel, which I must say was a stretch as it was an independent horror flick--which I love, but are often hit or miss. It turned out to be one of the worst movies ever made, seriously. The screenplay writer should be left in a death tunnel to die for his sins. We took a deep breath and picked--Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle and The Ice Harvest. Loved both of them. I was going to do a movie review, but that's really not my style. Harold and Kumar was just mindlessly funny and The Ice Harvest was a chance for me to watch my love (John Cusack) on screen. Enough said about that.
By the time we had finished both movies, we had each finished a modest share of the beer and I was surprised to get a text from Chelle asking me what I was doing and that she was on her way over. 1am and we were starting a little party! At 3am, T stopped by after work (no, she's not a stripper!) and John became the ever gracious host, hopping down to the bar and mixing up pitchers of shots. That's right, shots at 3 am! Who knew we were having a little makeshift party?
At some point my meds kicked in from the poison ivy...my mom warned John that steroids make me get very emotional and weepy, and boy did they ever. The first day's always the worst of a Z pack...you have to take about seven pills, uggh. I went out on the steps and started crying...part beer tears (it was 5am at this point) and part med induced. The boy took it all in stride and calmed me down. He promised me that I wasn't an ugly ogre and that he did, indeed, want to marry me. Then he took me inside and made me scrambled eggs and ham before we went upstairs to sleep. Good man, huh?
Blockbuster, ah how I hate thee...
We wanted The Hills Have Eyes, the new version, the old version...any freakin' version! Not there...a shelf space the size of my car, and there were no copies there--wtf? A town the size of the Cornfield means that every single household except for ours was watching The Hills Have Eyes. So then we browsed...and browsed...and browsed--oh and there was that incident where we ran into an old friend of John's and I was a greasy, glasses clad mess who knocked over whole shelves of movies with the flick of an elbow--Good Impressions--that's my middle name. We had been burned with two weeks of disasterous picks. Last weekend we rented Waiting...and then we waited for something funny to happen. We also rented Death Tunnel, which I must say was a stretch as it was an independent horror flick--which I love, but are often hit or miss. It turned out to be one of the worst movies ever made, seriously. The screenplay writer should be left in a death tunnel to die for his sins. We took a deep breath and picked--Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle and The Ice Harvest. Loved both of them. I was going to do a movie review, but that's really not my style. Harold and Kumar was just mindlessly funny and The Ice Harvest was a chance for me to watch my love (John Cusack) on screen. Enough said about that.
By the time we had finished both movies, we had each finished a modest share of the beer and I was surprised to get a text from Chelle asking me what I was doing and that she was on her way over. 1am and we were starting a little party! At 3am, T stopped by after work (no, she's not a stripper!) and John became the ever gracious host, hopping down to the bar and mixing up pitchers of shots. That's right, shots at 3 am! Who knew we were having a little makeshift party?
At some point my meds kicked in from the poison ivy...my mom warned John that steroids make me get very emotional and weepy, and boy did they ever. The first day's always the worst of a Z pack...you have to take about seven pills, uggh. I went out on the steps and started crying...part beer tears (it was 5am at this point) and part med induced. The boy took it all in stride and calmed me down. He promised me that I wasn't an ugly ogre and that he did, indeed, want to marry me. Then he took me inside and made me scrambled eggs and ham before we went upstairs to sleep. Good man, huh?
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