Breaking my Attention Span: Part One

So I'm not embarrassed to admit I read the whole Twightlight series and absolutely loved them all (except for the second book... couldn't wait to get through it). I read the books before I started seeing the movies and thank God because they don't do the novels an ounce justice. I thought the first movie was 'ok'. The second one was awful just like the book. The third one was 'better'. I just got back from "Breaking Dawn: Part 1" and I'm going against the crowd here....

IT WAS AWFUL!!!!

That is $10.50 and two hours that I will never get back. Literally, the first hour of the movie was devoted to the wedding, honeymoon, and Bella making stupid faces. Imagine Kristen Stewart cocking her head down and to the left, mouth part open with a mild quiver, and gaze shooting from left to right and you just watched the first hour.

Kristen Stewart you are a worthless actress.

I understand what they're trying to do by dragging on the last book into two movies to make billions five times instead of four. Their marketing is spot on and it's pulling in everyone from the emotional teenager to the curious reader like myself. But Stephanie Meyer should be aggrivated for how poorly her creativity has been conveyed in this sad attempt at a movie.

Come to think of it, Stephanie Meyer probably couldn't care less. She is probably rolling around in a swimming pool full of $100 bills in hysterical laughter shouting "Team Edward ain't got shit on Team Me! Me Me Mine Myself Mine!"

only a few of my friends will get that last statement

17 31707 1

The other day I was at lunch with some fellow co-workers and completely 'dated' myself in a conversation about cell phones. I didn't receive one until I went away to college and it was purely to call home without a calling card. (This was also the time when cell phones were just becoming a big deal to have.) The three years prior to this I was using a pager. Some of the girls looked at me like I had a unicorn popping out of my forehead when I was talking about it... how my friends and I had certain 'codes' so you knew who was paging you... how my boyfriend and I would page "17 31707 1" because upside down that said "I love you".

22378008. That was "boobless".

But having a pager with 3 different alerts was a BIG deal. If your pager had more than two buttons and a colorful case, that was a big deal. I remember my first cell phone looking very similar to a remote control. It was large, flat, and grey with illuminated green keys. It was super cool. I didn't even carry it around with me and I'm pretty sure it was off most of the time. Anytime I needed to call a friend or DP Dough to order my late night calzone I used the landline. Our quad had two of them and one had a cord.

But now the minute you realize you left your phone at home you feel your stomach drop into your butt. The feeling is utterly uncomfortable and extremely anxiety provoking. You don't feel "whole" like a small part of you, say your pants, are still sitting at home in your bedroom instead of being where they belong on your body.

The gals at lunch thought it was "soooo weird" that I used a pager as means of communication in high school and rarely used my phone during my first two years in college. It made me feel old. I see kids with cell phones and it boggles my mind. I honestly don't see the point of a kid having a phone until they start driving. If anytime before, it will be one of those limited "for emergency use only" ones. I'm not going to inadvertently promote my child to 'sext' or even give them the chance to send a nudie picture to that super cute quarter back.

I say all this now, but who knows. By the time I have kids we could be teleporting ourselves across town or driving auto-pilot bubbles. We could have robot hands, that come out of our hologram cell phones that are implanted into our heads, that help move our jaws up and down so we don't have to chew our meal pellets on our own. We are so lazy.

Too Late Too Bad

Three hours.

That’s how long I have to kill before my rebooked flight home from LAX. Three hours may be a small part of the day for some people, but when you’re already losing another three flying east it becomes a lost day. I was supposed to get home to catch the end of the Browns game. I was supposed to lounge around in my pajamas with my dogs, checking my fantasy football team and catnapping on the couch until Daryn got home. Instead I’ll arrive when it’s already dark out which will in turn mildly depress me. Wah.

So here I sit in Ruby’s Diner with my paper cup coffee in one of the shittiest terminals I’ve seen at LAX. Half under construction with very sub-par eateries, this place is just making me even angrier that I was literally 6 minutes late to check my bag and therefor couldn’t fly home on my original flight. Even though I was there, standing in front of the gate as they are calling for boarding, they would not let me fly without my bag. I’m adding this to my list of traveling pet peeves.

I think I’m going to start documenting my aggravating airport experiences with photos and turn it into a coffee table book one day and make millions… THERE’S the lemonade.