September 15, 2008

This is going to be a lame post

Because, to be honest, I'm not feeling very creatively inspired at the moment.

I know this is shocking because I always have some snarky, self-absorbed commentary to add to the online world.  Alas.

As I type this I would also like to mention that J is evil for providing one-line commentary via Gchat as he watches last night's DVRed episode of "Mad Men," which I am clearly not up to date on.  Saying things like "Betty Draper is on the warpath!!!" is only going to send my warped mind into a frenzy trying to figure out why Betty is on said warpath.  And unfortunately, since I am at least 8 episodes behind and at this point will probably just have to wait for Season 2 to come out on DVD, my mental anguish is slated to extend over many many months.

Today I saw "The Women" with Mama and Jenny.  It was an entertaining movie, though I was glad that tickets were free (thank you American Eagle for providing free movie passes every time you try on a pair of jeans!).  

It was all good (relatively speaking for a lighthearted chick flick) until the  final scene - a birth scene, of course (I have developed a bit of a pregnancy/birthing fear/obsession) - which involved a crazed Debra Messing screaming like an amazon banshee woman while Meg Ryan makes a date with her estranged husband via Blackberry and Jada Pinkett Smith throws herself against a wall in an attempt to shield her eyes from the scarring vision of Debra in the stirrups.  I don't blame you Jada.  

I will say though, that it was very interesting when I finally realized (when the credits were rolling at the end) that there was not a single man in the entire movie.  As in absolutely zero male actors - no back of the head on the street, no voice over the phone, no photos on a desk, nada.  

It also brought up some interesting questions in terms of how to realistically deal with a cheating spouse.  The movie brings up two trains of though:  Should you accept the fact that one person in every relationship will betray the other, whether in a big way or "a million little ways" (thank you Annette Bening), and stick it out?  Or is a betrayal like that enough to sacrifice years and years of love?

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