Last night, I had the privilege of attending a free advanced screening of the forthcoming movie Bridesmaids. It comes out in a month, but I’ve been quite excited for its release for many months because I am a HUGE fan of Kristen Wiig, the movie’s co-writer and star. You know how people get really fanatical about Tina Fey? I’m that way about Miz Wiig (though I get the whole Tina Fey awesomeness as well.) My affection for the movie’s star I don’t think really affected my overall opinion of the film because absolutely everyone else in the theater shared the same reaction: it was hilarious. Seriously. So funny. So much laughing out loud– Natalie was sitting next to me and was crying from laughter at one point. From start to finish, it is a smart comedy that will have people falling in love with Wiig as much as I already am. I feel I shouldn’t give too much away, but I’ll tell you of a few qualms I had about the movie before seeing it. I had watched the full theatrical trailer online before going and was slightly underwhelmed. After seeing it, I can tell you the funniest parts are definitely not in the trailer. The trailer shows them picking Vegas as the destination of Maya Rudolph’s bachelorette party, and I was leery that this was going to be a female version of The Hangover (don’t worry, it’s not.) Jon Hamm is in the movie (unbeknownst to me before going in) as well as an unknown Scotsman who’s kind of the Michael Cera version of Gerard Butler. There was lots of squealing and “Awwwww!!!”-ing at certain points because the audience was at least 95% female. Never fear, gentlemen– a guy and his girlfriend were walking in front of me as we left the theater, and he said something about, “So much for a chick flick!” and then shared his general excitement over the fact that it wasn’t just another sappy girl-centric movie he’d been conned into attending. The movie takes some turns that you might not expect, though does end like you’d probably expect, but it’s seriously a gem the entire way through. And make sure you don’t rush right of the theater at the end. Afterward I tweeted that it was definitely in the top five funniest movies I’ve ever seen. Or top three. Or maybe number one, just because I’m so happy that a movie written by and starring so many women is so damn good. Mark your calendars for May 13– you’re going to the movies.

Oh my sweet goodness, where do I start.

Perhaps I was the last person on the planet to see The Social Network, but Neil and I grabbed it at a Red Box after class this evening and are almost done viewing it. She’s blogging and the movie’s not even over? Not a good sign. I do not enjoy this movie. I would not watch this movie again. I’ve never liked Jesse Eisenberg (being Team Cera and all) though I suppose he’s a good actor if this movie makes me hate him even more. I’ve also been of the school of thought than any movie with Justin Timberlake in it has no business being nominated for awards, but that’s neither here nor there. Quite simply, I am bored with this movie. Let’s leave alone the fact that it makes me hate Mark Zuckerberg with a passion (yes, I get it, it’s a movie and not true, but the guy is still an A-S-S-H-O-L-E) but this is not a great movie. It’s a movie about a bunch of self-absorbed assholes that got lucky, then self-inflated, then couldn’t deal with suffering the consequences. Aaron Sorkin and David Fincher can collect awards for weaving together the court scenes with the flashbacks, but that’s about all I’ve got to put in the “pro” column so far. I can’t seem to separate my intense hatred for most people involved (so I can give a small pat on some backs for good acting) and simply put, I do not enjoy this movie.

Ooh, one lesson learned: don’t blog drunk. I’m looking at you, Kayla Rae

After a fever of 104, two hours at a walk-in clinic, and a chest x-ray at the hospital, Neil has been diagnosed with pneumonia. I am (perhaps foolishly) not too concerned about contracting a similar illness and have instead played the role of his and Fergus’ exclusive caretakers. When he gets better, I’ve already vowed to never take out the damn dog again. Don’t even get me started on the coughing– suffice it to say, my compassion has run out for this patient.
Well, my last semester of college starts tomorrow, and I am nothing but pumped. After a delicious reunion date with Natalie at the Vine yesterday, I am even more pumped about what comes after graduation because of my delirious optimism for all things job search related. Afterward, the roomies and I bunkered down on our respective couches with our respective Hy-Vee snacks (I just typed ’snakes’) and dissected every delicious minute of the Golden Globes. My fashion favorites included Claire Danes, Anne Hathaway, and Emma Stone, even though her skin looked straight up orange. You can Google them if you don’t know what they looked like, I’m far too lazy and concerned about copyright laws to slap up some pics for you. Ignoring Helen Bonham Carter’s desperate attempt at attention, I will say my worst dressed pick is Julianne Moore for that hideous one-sleeved Lanvin creation. And Natalie Portman for that FUCKING FLOWER on the front of her dress. WHAT THE FUCK. Yes, it deserves that many F-bombs. So hideous. Also, I’m tired of her. Your movie apparently wasn’t that great compared to The Social Network (still haven’t seen it), and by the way completely other tangent happening, why did Inception win nothing? I was so, so happy that Melissa Leo won for her role as the mother in The Fighter, and they could have just mailed Christian Bale is award months in advance because he had the Best Supporting Actor category in the bag three minutes into the movie.
I hate Glee, thus it winning Best TV Show or whatever it did was s-toooo-pid, but I was thrilled to see Chris Colfer and Jane Lynch win because well, they’re awesome. (By the way, did you notice how they panned to Lynch after Annette Bening won for playing a lesbian in The Kids Are Alright?) Speaking of, that movie was just alright– she was great, and don’t even get me started on the sexiness factor going through the roof with the casting of Mark Ruffalo, but alas, the movie was kinda flat.
And now I’m hungry, thus will leave to go make a sandwich with coleslaw on it. DON’T ASK– it’s my food phase of the moment. An odd one, yes, but also oddly delicious.

We went to The Fighter as a family today and it was simply fabulous. And I’m not just saying that because Mark Wahlberg has managed to catapult his way into my Top Five Celebrity Hotties, or because the kettle corn was fresh at Jordan Creek. To continue my Oscar predictions long before any nominations are made, Christian Bale will absolutely, positively win most every acting award ever for his supporting performance as Micky Ward’s brother Dicky. When the credits roll and we saw the actual Micky and Dicky, everyone in the theater was like HOLY SCHMOLIGANS because Christian Bale seriously became Dicky. The acting was just impeccable all around– the characters you’re supposed to hate, you’ll really hate– and the story wasn’t dragged out longer than needed. The feel good ending (sorry, did I just ruin it?) doesn’t hurt, and the Bostonian, Masshole accents are the icing on my New England-loving cake.

In other news, some really scientific research has led me to believe that my sanity can spend about 72 hours at home before I start itching for an escape. I mean, I love my family, but they can be at times… challenging. I realize this is not at all a problem exclusive to me, especially around the holidays, and that as I get older things will only become more testy. Perhaps making this all worse is that I accidentally grabbed NPH’s phone charger from his house so now have both of ours… and he has none. His phone is dead for at least another couple days, and I have no texting outlet who is equally as bored at home on his couch. I’ve been passing my time baking a ridiculous amount of Christmas goodies and perfecting my great-grandmothers apricot crescent cookies that will get to make an appearance again finally when we go to my grandma’s tomorrow. Unless I eat them all on the journey there in some sort of emotional breakdown over how much I miss my basset hound.

Holy shit.
Mind blown.
What just happened.
“I can’t even… like how did…” -actual person leaving the theater.

So we just returned from seeing Black Swan in Cedar Rapids (followed by the most DELICIOUS veggie enchiladas at Los Portales that have probly e’er been concocted, ever) and wow. First of all, if I was a betting woman, I’d put $1,000 on Natalie Portman winning this year’s Academy Award for best actress. Homegirl was phenomenal. I’m not really into ballet, but that certainly doesn’t matter when you’re watching this flick. Mila Kunis managed to not just make me think of Family Guy the entire time, and who knew Winona Ryder’s in it?! It wasn’t scary like “ahhh scary movie!” but it was definitely a thriller– SUPER intense. There were plenty of times I looked over at NPH like “Is this really happening?” The show started pretty promptly around 3:05 and we were out of there by 4:55, gotta love that. Also, I now wanna lose 100 pounds and become a ballerina AND I can’t get all the Swan Lake songs outta my head.

Hats off to you, Mr. Aronofsky.

Today and tomorrow are my weekend since I’m working on Friday night and Saturday.  Our family four-pack hit up the movie theater before noon so Papa K and I could see Iron Man 2 while T-Bone and the brother went to some Robin Hood snooze-fest.  Two buckets of kettle corn and over two hours of the ridiculous hotness that is Robert Downey, Jr. make for a pretty great afternoon.  The movie was actually much better than I was anticipating– better than the first, far better than most sequels.  I was also insanely jealous of the Louboutin’s both Gwenyth and Scarlett were sporting in even their most harrowing of action scenes. Our movie got out before the Men in Tights one, so Dad and I headed over to Panera to stock up on carbs for God knows what reason.  The bakery section, once enough to bring me to my knees and possibly tears, was quite frankly pathetic.  Four months in Europe has made me quite the elitest bitch when it comes to pastries.  We ended up with a baguette and loaf of sourdough (and maybe some other things, but that’s neither here nor there) for sandwiches and what not later.  To be fair, Germany is lacking in the bagels department while America seems to have it’s bases well covered with them.

When I’m not at work, I feel quite lazy.  And lonely, but that’s because any friends of decent importance are two hours away in various directions.  My ass needs to get back into motion (really, any sort of physical motion at all) because I will soon grow bed sores and become one with my mattress.  I went to the library and checked out a book (a fiction one!  That I’ve been reading for pleasure) and alternate my time with that, the Internet, and sweet sweet slumber.  My ice cream consumption has also skyrocketed exponentially, perhaps directly correlated with the outside temperature, though probably more to do with the awesome new flavors at the Korner Kone just down the road.  In retrospect, this post has basically reported to the world all of the heinous overeating I did today.

My brother is currently reading a map of Germany to me.  Way too much fun to handle.  We’re waiting to go to the airport to take off to sunny Miami (with a connecting flight in Atlanta– 1. I hate layovers.  2. I have never been to Atlanta and was all YOU’RE SO WRONG when NPH told me that’s most likely where we’d be connecting so now I owe him like a quarter or something.)

I’m not a huge candy bar/ chocolate fan, but if I had to choose, Twix bars are pretty boss.  I had a slight obsession with them as a child.  This may or may not have been a factor in my moderate childhood obesity.

OH so after the shiteous time I had in the theater watching It’s Complicated, Papa K and T-Bone took me out to a boss fancy dinner AND a movie the next night (yes, it really is great to be me.)  We saw Up in the Air which I liked about a bajillion times better.  It was visually clean, the story made sense, the whole message was you need a partner in life because “Think of your favorite memories– were you alone?”  My parents weren’t exactly as big of fans as I was.  Dad said he knew people who would legitimately leave the theater and straight up want to kill themselves.  I suppose for people who’ve spent their lives trying to find a “copilot” (the movie was about flying?  Life partner = copilot?  GET IT?!)  or had one then lost them it would be a mondo sobfest.  But for moi, a strapping young buck in the prime of her youth, I thought it was very inspirational like YEA!  Life partner!  I’m gonna go out and find my lifemate.  Also, George Clooney is increasingly hotter as he gets older.  That blonde chick from The Departed is in it who I’m sorry but is not that attractive.  Also, the really funny guy from The Hangover is in it for like two minutes in the beginning.  So TWO THUMBS UP from this one.

Also, at dinner beforehand, I had creme brulee for dessert.  Holy tummyache-inducing awesomeness.  I’ve had it once before, I believe the term I coined was “dessert mayonnaise.”  (I don’t even like mayo, it’s just a delicious creamy white consistency… upon further thought, I’m going to change the subject now.)

Collectively as a family we’re hoping there is a Waffle House near our hotel tomorrow morning.

Somewhere in my house is my wallet with credit cards, multiple forms of real and fake identification, some loyalty punch cards, perhaps a stray HyVee Chinese fortune.  Unfortunately, I have no idea where in the house it is, and it’s KIND OF something I’ll be needing very soon.  Like to board an airplane.  No big deal or anything.

Mom, Savannah, and I went to see It’s Complicated today because who doesn’t love Meryl Streep (or even Alec Baldwin.  I want to hate him because he seems like such an ass in real life but WHO CARES because he’s in The Departed and him saying “Paaaaatriot Act!!!” is one of me and NPH’s favorite movie lines of all time.)  Well let me tell you– if you are one of the few 40 year old and over readers, close out of this screen right now and run small children and animals down in your frenzy to get to the movie theater.  If you are anywhere near college age or just generally don’t want to even think about what it must be like for your parents or professors to be together between the sheets DO NOT SEE THIS MOVIE.  So much old people sex.  So much fleshy Alec Baldwin.  So much divorcee humor.  So much kettle corn inhaling (oh wait, that was just me.  And Savannah– I’ll throw her under this bus, too.)

After the movie we returned THE raincoat from Christmas and got a super classy charcoal gray/black coat that I LOVE and fits like a glove and was on super sale and it just awesome.  I look so damn sophisticated in it, no small feat mind you.  Props to Mom and Savannah for putting up with my in-store antics, too much kettle corn will do that to a person (my inner five-year-old also followed us to the parking lot where I drew a swastika and male genitalia on the undefrosted windows of my mother’s vehicle.  She was not super pleased with my behavior.  OOPS.)

THEN Savannah and I were all “Wow.  Way too much fun for one night.  Let’s head into the GREAT METROPOLIS of Adel, Iowa to see what shenanigans await us.”  And do you know what we did?  Not a goddamn thing.  I hate this town.  So lame.  Nay, it’s a quaint town, methinks it’s the people in it who really just make me contemplate how much slitting my wrists would actually hurt (again, if you are a mandatory reporter– step down, apparently making slight suicide references is just a phase I’m in.)  To give you a hint, the most entertaining interactions we had were in the Kum ‘n Go parking lot which is actually a step up from our normal meeting place, the Subway parking lot.

Tomorrow we’re going to church, only this time there probably won’t be a REAL BABY playing my savior so it’ll be kinda way more lame than last time.  Today I got ALL PACKED for the cruise so tomorrow will be more packing for Germany/ tearing the house apart in search of my wallet/ trying to figure out how to get a working laptop to Germany without actually spending any money (my father says I can’t afford to pay attention, let alone buy a new one.  Excellent.  Apparently personal finances really aren’t my thing.)

I painted my fingernails today (bright pink) AND toenails (silver sparkles.)  No need to tell me how excited you are this new nugget of information.

The movie Love Actually has many fans.  I am not one of them.  SO MANY of my friends love this movie, a surprisingly large number of them are males.  NPH and I rented it last night from Blockbuster (as he said after, “I’m glad we’ve just gotten to the point where no one questions us watching romantic comedies together”) because everyone we know just loves the movie and it has to do with Christmas and the whole cast has adorable British accents and we happened to not be drinking last night so didn’t have much else better to do.

Now, this wasn’t Seven Pounds bad, but it was bad in that the audience is supposed to go along with Hugh Grant being the prime minister of England and Billy Bob Thorton as the prez of our great nation.  Yep, you’ve already lost me.  Also, there is a great deal of infidelity in this movie.  In the words of the rugged caveman also watching, “It’s not that hard to be faithful.  In fact, it’s harder to not be faithful.  Being faithful requires you to not DO anything.”

Now, there are two BRILLIANT ACTORS of our time in this film.  Liam Neeson and Alan Rickman.  Liam Neeson is not chasing after boats and international terrorists who have kidnapped his daughter to be sold into sex slavery in this movie, so I’m not exactly sure why he’s in it.  (<– if you didn’t get that Taken reference, drop what you’re doing and get your ass to a Red Box or Netflix, pronto.)  Alan Rickman, not that bad looking of a dude when not dressed in Death Eater robes and unwashed Severus Snape-y hair, is a man who I can no longer take seriously after that one episode of Family Guy (below, for your enjoyment.)

(Look, Dad– I embedded a video all on my own!)

Anyway, the rest of the movie is full of comPLETEly unbelievable, over-the-top, not funny, completely cheeseball “romantic” storylines that involve a man being in love with his best friend’s wife, Colin Firth proposing in broken Portuguese, two porn star stand-ins getting married, Laura Linney’s mentally ill brother ruining her love life, and OF COURSE, a ten-year-old boy running past security in post-9/11 Heathrow on Christmas Eve to tell his classmate she’s the love of his life.  Oh, and Denise Richards inexplicably shows up in the end.  Yep, that was my Wednesday night.  All was not lost, however.  Neil’s mom made some bomb-tastic pumpkin bread with walnuts and raisins in it, and he let me slice off the sugar-coated top and still kinda doughy middle instead of cutting regular slices like a normal person.  The bonus is that now it looks like some sort of dog has gotten into the pan and no way will any of the other housemates touch it.  That bread is mine, bitches.

Perhaps I will post later (ooh, two posts today, possibly to make up for yesterday’s blogging just for the sake of putting something up– sorry, Natalie!)  I bought a netti pot and want to tell the WORLD about shoving a spout full of liquid up one nostril and letting the contents of my sinus cavities drain out the other.

Also, did you know that Scotland is not a country?  It is a “devolved state” or something.  Not actually sovereign.  WHAT.THE.FUCK.  I am now questioning everything I ever thought to be true in the world.