I brought home way too much work this past weekend, but it
had to be done. The last of the
correcting waited for me, and the term one grades had to be calculated,
verified, and sent to the mainframe. I
had to gather my interview notes and put together a grad paper for
Wednesday. I had to pay bills and check
on magazine subscription renewals (I'm a freak for magazines - weird, I know). I
had to do laundry, make a shopping list, and start organizing the random
Christmas items I've already purchased.
So I did what any house-bound work-a-holic would do: I watched movies all weekend.
Oh, sure, I did get most of my to-do list done. But it was kind of nice to have the
television going, just the same, and I satisfied both hemispheres of my brain
while I was at it. You see, Saturday was
a day of holiday romance movies (to feed the sentimental side), and Sunday I
caught up on the Bond movies in anticipation of the new release on Friday (to
feed the action/adventure side - and Daniel Craig isn't too bad on the eyes, I
might add).
Let me be perfectly honest here. The holiday movies aren't outrageously
complicated. I would even be so bold as
to admit that quite a bit of the acting just sucks, and quite a bit of the
writing is pedantic. My current favorite
is a movie called A Season For Miracles. The acting is pretty decent, Patty Duke plays
a multitude of roles and does so rather well, and the storyline (aunt hiding
her niece and nephew from child services to protect them) isn't too lame to
carry the movie. The inside of the old
house where they filmed is truly beautiful.
Of course, I sat through the schlock that was on before and after it, so
I guess that makes me guilty of bad movie watching.
Today I watched the two most recent James Bond films, Casino Royale and Quantum of Solace, to be ready for Friday's release of Skyfall.
Now, anyone who knows me also knows that I rarely go to the movie
theater to see movies. First of all, I
can't stand when people sit around me and chat or text or kick the seat or are
too tall or bring their bratty kids (or worse, crying infants and toddlers)
with them. I also hate having to pee
halfway through the movie because I just had to have that popcorn with extra
butter and salt which means I just had to have that soda which means I just
have to head to the latrine right smack in the middle of the action. This causes me to get very angry about three
things: I miss important parts of the
movie, I have to let my eyes readjust before I can crawl back to my seat
(disturbing others along the way), and I am forced to accept that an aging
female bladder is the size of a Mexican jumping bean and equally active.
Now I'm back to work, and the same grind starts all over
again with that race to get report cards done and the start of record-keeping
for a new term. But I'll face it all
with a serene smile because the work that needed to get done did get done, my mind is already
planning on conquering the too busy holiday season, and I got all caught up on
Bond so I can participate in pre-movie discussions around the lunch table.
And, hey, Daniel Craig is some decent eye candy, I might
add. Or did I already mention that? Shows you where my mind really is.
