Last night was the perfect night for a scary movie. Dark and rainy and the inevitablity of the tempature dropping. While search the On Demand library of horror movies (of which Pineapple Express was a part of. Weird.) there were precious few choice of things we hadn't seen and were interested in.
Ok, there was nothing we were INTERESTED in, but I narrowed it to the 3 least ridiculous options and Scott picked one after we watch all the trailers. Scott, being... well, Scott, picked the shortest one. ::Sigh::
So we watched the Sundance Film, Baghead. It seemed intriguing enough, minus the stupid title.
What a waste of waking moments. I could have been sleeping. I could have been painting. I could have been shoving toothpicks under my own fingernails. It was predictable. I knew the "twist" less than halfway through the movie and was just wading through the goofiness to get there. $5 for a "movie" that left me with memories of someone I dated a long time ago and the urge to slap both the girls in the movie for being obnoxious, one for the way she played "faux cute" and the other for hoity toity bitchiness.
Geez! Anyway, don't see it. Unless you hate yourself. Although, if that's the case, just take a bath with a toaster and save yourself the agony of this movie.
Moving on... :)
I think I've gotten to the point where I'm thankful that Carter's cyst is as trivial as it is. It could be so much worse. I think of all the parents sitting next to their children's hospital beds in St. Judes Hospital or the parents who have bought burial plots for their babies and I want to shake myself. What right do I have to be upset about an outpatient surgery for my otherwise completely healthy and adorable baby boy?!
No right. That's the answer.
Carter laughed for so long last night that I thought my heart would burst. What is more magical than baby laughter?! Nothing. GAWD, I love my little boys.
So here I am. All thankful and stuff. :)
Happy Lost day.