Put Me In The Movies

Have you ever noticed that people in movies are always doing stuff? Even during the transitional filler scenes, when they haven't yet done the thing that they need to do to advance the plot, they’re busy building fences, or having dinner parties, or sailing. There don't seem to be very many movies in which the main characters spend most of their time surfing the net.

Fact: the things that I like to do with most of my time would make for a very boring movie.

Stuff that isn’t worth doing in a movie

• playing Plants vs Zombies
• reading ads on Kijiji
• watching an entire season of So You Think You Can Dance in one day
• reading blogs (except for your blogs, of course, which would make a fabulous movie)
• reading a book for the 9th hour in a row*
• binge eating sour cream and onion chips

* I know that some people will take issue with me adding “reading” to the not-doing-stuff list, but I have a maladaptive reading style. Unless I get very stern with myself, I will spend every daylight hour reading on the couch. And then when it gets dark, I’ll move to the bedroom because the light is better there.


Visual example of not-a-movie
Stuff that would be worth doing in a movie (but that I don't really do very often, or at all)

• taking guitar lessons
• painting a picture or a wall
• writing a novel
• doing projects in the house
• having dinner parties**
• cleaning the house***
• fighting zombies

** I actually kind of hate having dinner parties. But people in movies have dinner parties all the time.

*** Cleaning the house is not doing stuff in and of itself. But it’s kind of a requirement for actually having a clean house, which is kind of a requirement for hosting dinner parties that I don’t want to have. Who knew, right?


movie-worthy
A few weeks ago, JP decided that we needed a walkway from the street to the front door. JP is a doer. He does stuff.




JP used a pickaxe to break the soil. He's very manly. He does things like join the air force and be a volunteer firefighter and break soil with a pickaxe.








Note to self: read a more cheerful book after finishing A Song of Ice and Fire (the Game of Thrones series).

* * * Please scroll to the end of this post for a brief Game of Thrones interlude * * *
While JP tore up the yard, I got to push the wheelbarrow.


Which honestly? Really isn't that much fun.


As I strained to push the heavy wheelbarrow over the uneven ground, I contemplated the human condition.














OK, maybe not so much the human condition as my own personal condition. But I was definitely contemplating.

It was not a fun day. In fact, it was a miserable day.


But at the end of it, we had a walkway.


It's beautiful. I'm begrudgingly proud. I think I can count it as "doing something".

But if they ever make it into a movie, I will refuse to watch it on principle.

* * * Begin Brief Game of Thrones Interlude * * *
And yes, I realize that interludes should - by definition - be in the middle and not at the end of something. What are you, some kind of vocabulary snob?


Not Your Momma's Cookie made Game of Thrones cake pops!
(note: there is a major spoiler on this site if you haven't finished the first book or the first season of the TV show)
And if you're reading A Song of Ice and Fire for the first time, you can follow along with the entertaining podcasts at Unspoiled, where a married couple shares their reflections after each chapter. They're about halfway through the second book so far.

* * * End Game of Thrones Interlude * * *

Dead Air

I apologize for the radio silence.

I've been getting emails from worried readers, so I thought that I should post a quick update to let you all know that I'm alive and well.  Nothing bad is happening.  I haven't quit blogging.  In fact, I have a dozen story ideas bubbling away in the back of my mind.

I just haven't been feeling very funny lately.

The truth is that I'm going through a bit of an existentialist crisis.  I've come to the uncomfortable realization that - despite being happy in my day-to-day life - I'm not really passionate about anything bigger.  It's a strange thing to realize.  I always figured that I would change the world somehow, but all I really want to do is walk the dog and read books and hang out with my husband and surf the net. 

I dropped out of the blogosphere for a little while to ponder the meaning of life.

But I'll be back soon.

In the meantime, I made you a wheelbarrow:

I'm not sure why you would want a picture of a clay wheelbarrow.  Maybe you can turn it into some kind of a metaphor.

(And also, I lost the vacuum cleaner.  I just walked through my entire house twice, but still haven't found it.  My house is not all that big.  It's pretty organized right now, so it's not like there are piles of clutter behind which a vacuum cleaner could hide.  How exactly does one lose a vacuum cleaner?  I'm baffled.)

Question for all of my lovely readers: besides your family, are you passionate about anything?