Don't Think Twice

For several years now, the movies that topped my All-Time, Worst Ever list, were really just two, and they came out around the same time: A.I., the science-fiction poopfest that Speilberg had to finish off for Kubrick (which explained a lot, really), and The Talented Mr. Ripley, just a poopfest all around. It makes me think there is something about having Jude Law in a movie. I'd dare say that most of Jude Law's movies stink, which is unfortunate because he is hot. Or at least, he used to be -- I think he's losing his hair now, and it's not a great look for him.

But fear not, lonely duo, for a third flick is joining your ranks. This weekend the BF and I slogged through all 17 hours* of I'm Not There, the amazingly craptacular "biopic" about Bob Dylan's life. I am not a big Dylan fan or anything -- I actually think that his songs are best done by another aritst -- but I wanted to see Cate Blanchett play him, and I just thought it would be a cool pic. Oh well. From start to finish, I'm not sure I understood anything that anyone said. It was English, for the most part, but from what I could tell it was mostly bullshit, which apparently was all that ever came out of Bob Dylan's mouth in the '60s, or since. The movie portrays the different "lives" of Bob Dylan with different characters. The one that made the least sense was Richard Gere, who was playing some sort of hermit from a Western movie that winds up confronting "the man" at a little county fair. But I will say that the best part of the movie occurred during one of these random Western scenes, when there was a surprising performance by My Morning Jacket. Those guys saved me from slitting my wrists at that point, let me tell you.


I could go on, but I won't, because I already lost enough hours of my life just watching the thing.


*It was really only 2 hours and 15 minutes, but that was the longest 2 hrs/15 of my life.


***BREAKING NEWS***

Mid-blog breaking news today... the BF and I have acquired a new pet. As I was literally typing the above rant, someone knocked on my door and offered me a puppy. A little back story: we had some neighbors who were fond of domestically disputing in public, and so the Flo-Po were constantly coming out to deal with them. A while back, they got the cutest black and white puppy that they would leave out sometimes for way too long. I was always worried about her because they never used a leash, and a lot of cars come through this parking lot. BF, being the friendly talker that he is, struck up a conversation with the lovely couple one day and found out that they were probably going to need to find a home for the dog because the landlord (a different one from ours) didn't want them to have pets. This was several weeks ago, so I thought maybe they had worked it out. But today, dude knocks on my door saying that the chick finally R-U-N-N-O-F-T and left him with the bills and the dog. He was moving, couldn't take doggie with him, and wanted to know if we still wanted to take her. BF was sleeping, but of course I couldn't say no, so.... here she is, meet Sally!





She is the sweetest. We think she's some kind of Border Collie mix, and she is smart as a whip. Now, I must go and play with her! But expect more pictures in days to come...

Yeah Yeah Yeah

I know, it's been too long. I bet nobody even bothers to check this blog anymore, but I need a space for my thoughts, so here goes!

A lot has happened since last time I guess. I turned the great 3-1, as in the number of flavors Baskin-Robbins boasts. I wasted the actual day of my birthday trying to get to a wedding in Lafayette that I still to this day do not know whether it actually went on or not. That day I learned my first valuable lesson of being 31: Don't do anything you don't really want to do. Don't do things out of obligation anymore.

Now of course, that doesn't apply in every situation -- there are things I may not want to do for work that I have to/am obligated to do or else I lose the job. And I may have family obligations that are unavoidable. But in situations like this one, where I was really going out of my way for someone who would never go so far out of her way for me, I should have sat that one out. And I will from now on!

My new job is going swimmingly. I'm headed to Vegas in a week or so for our annual retreat, and it will be nice to get away and finally put some faces with the voices I've been hearing on conference calls for the past two months.

I did another adult thing this past month and got preapproved for a mortgage loan. Scary!! It was a lengthy, pain-in-the-ass application process, and at the end of it all I still don't know if I can really afford to buy a house. The fact that I chose a social services field coupled with the fact that I have a reasonable amount of debt means that I am not worth all that much, financially speaking. It sucks that one person (in my situation) can't afford to buy a decent house all on her own. Not that I could count the BF's income anyway, because right now there isn't any, but even if he did have some I wouldn't want to include that. I want to do this all on my own or not at all. I guess I should have gone to law school or something, but then I'd have a buttload of student loan debt. It's a no-win situation. Anyway, I am going to try my luck with a different mortgage broker, but I have a feeling I may be a renter for at least another year.

On the flip side of that, though, I keep thinking about all the other things I'd rather spend money on than a mortgage, property taxes, and maintenance and repairs on a home. I want to travel. I want new clothes. I want to eat really well. I want to get my sewing machine fixed and start making a lot of stuff. I want to upgrade my cable subscription so I can get HBO. I want to take tap dance classes.

I'm not sure I could do all of those things if I were spending all my money on a home and the things that go with it.

For now, I'm just going with the flow. I'm calling a realtor who also knows a mortgage broker this week and I will see what he says.

The BF and I have been spending a lot of time at his P's pool. We are quickly becoming brown berries, and also getting into shape. I usually just float like a lazy manatee when I "go swimming," but this year I'm trying to actually exert some energy in between sunning sessions. I have decided to really bite the bullet and do whatever it takes to get my butt in shape this year. I've even *GASP* started getting up EARLY on most weekdays to work out. SHOCK! AWE! SURPRISE! It actually isn't so bad. I get up at 6am and turn on the Exercise on Demand channel, pick out a workout or two, and I'm done in 30 min. or so. And since I now don't have to be at work until 8:30, I still have like an entire hour to do stuff in the morning. I have absolutely NEVER been a morning person, but for some reason lately I really have enjoyed having all that time in the morning to lounge, eat cereal, watch the History Channel or make fun of the inane stories on the morning talk shows, and read. Good Lord, I'm becoming an adult.

I think I'll go for now, but I will make just one more comment. The Netflix fairy delivered The Kids in the Hall this past week and I was watching it last night. I used to watch this in high school all the time, and watching it on DVD made me realize 1) they must have shown a crapload of commercials during the show, because each episode is about 15 min. long, and 2) the skits themselves are really really short. And maybe 3) A lot of their skits are not so much funny as they are performance art. I guess performance art is lost on a 15 year old, because I don't remember the show being that way at all. I need to re-watch The State now too and see what else I was missing.

El Cinco de Mayo

Just watched this movie tonight. I'm sorry, but Wes Anderson is a cinematic genius. I have seen all his movies and they seem to get successively better. Not to mention the colors that he uses and the delicious soundtracks. I would like to live in one of his movies. I'd climb onto that train and snuggle up with those cute Marc Jacobs for Louis Vuitton suitcases and drink sweet lime for hours. And maybe get to hang out with Adrian Brody. He is so cute to me, in a freakishly skinny kind of way.

I watched this movie, smoked a cigar and drank a Yoo Hoo all by myself tonight. And it was good.

Up on the 12th Floor

Can I just say it?

I love Jackson.

When I first moved back here from Memphis, I was really at a loss for words or thoughts. I had thought I would stay in Memphis forever. I didn't think that Jackson had all that much to offer. I thought I already pretty much knew everyone there was to know around here.

I was wrong.

It was a lot like when I decided to switch colleges after my freshman year because I realized that it was actually better to be where I knew some people. And once I got to that second college, where I originally thought I already knew everyone, I was pleasantly surprised to meet people from all over that I never would have known otherwise.

Anyway... tonight I attended a meeting of a group of young professionals that really care about this city that I have always sort of taken for granted. We heard William Winter speak, y'all. I think he is my new hero. He is so wise and so kind, and has always been ahead of his time, I think.

This group is planning some really great things, and I am so glad to be a part of it. It was good to get the BF out of the house, too, and he made some promising contacts for his private practice adventure. I am calling that an "adventure," because so far that is what it has been! He's getting some cases, slowly but surely, and that is a good thing. Making money is good!

I'm not going to use this blog to talk about my job -- but the thing is, I really love my job so far. I am happy that it is something I can really jump into and get excited about doing. I don't dread getting up for work every day like I used to. Don't get me wrong -- getting up early is a bitch -- but it's okay, I have to remind myself, we like this job.

As for other jobs, I am working on an article for the new BOOM Jackson publication, and so far I'm not pulling my hair out, so that is good. It helps that BF and I have been trying our best to get out and do something every weekend, too -- especially outside stuff. There really are a jillion things to do around our fair city. So far we have:

*Walked the nature trail and roamed the Natural Science Museum
*Gotten a big batch of crawfish and eaten them at a park in Belhaven
*Gone to a show at Cafe Seven
*Visited the Zoo and heard some great jazz music
*Gone to the art museum

And this weekend I think it's the Belhaven Market. This is my favorite time of year in Jackson!

We're all getting older...

So the BF and I are discussing shortbread cookies; specifically the kind that are shaped like windmills and are sort of spicy -- like cinnamon/ginger/cardamom. I had totally forgotten about these cookies until he brought them up, and I wanted to call my mom and find out what they were called because we used to get them all the time growing up.



The BF warned me not to call because it really wasn't worth it, but I didn't think anything of it and called, anyway. My dad answered, which was great because I love talking to my dad and he is rarely ever home, much less answering the phone. He couldn't remember what the cookies were called, but he did remember something else he wanted to talk to me about.



I need to preface this by saying that I am 30, nearly 31, and I live with the BF in a modest, inexpensive apartment in the suburbs of Jackson. I have never owned a home, in fact, I have been mortified of the home-buying process up until this point. All the horror stories I have heard from friends who have done it (both single and married) have kept me far, far away. But, in light of the fact that I've lived in apartments for the better part of 10 years, and in light of the fact that I recently got a really great job that pays really greatly, I have decided it's time for me to look for something bigger (a house) that I would purchase. I told my parents about this, and I'm sure they sighed with relief that their oldest daughter was finally sorta acting her age.



Further background: My little sister is 25. She finished college in 3 years (nursing school), got a good job right away, married her high school sweetheart and has been married for 5 years now, bought a house in a nice suburb right after they got married, and had a baby last year. And now she and her hubby are planning to build a house right next door to my parents in a few years. In my parents' eyes, for the most part, Sis has done everything right. Now, don't get me wrong -- I love my sister and am very proud of her. I think she has done quite well and she did what was right for her.



Me on the other hand. I am 30. It took me 5 years to get a B.A. in Psychology, which automatically means graduate school, so 2 more years later I finally graduate and enter "the real world." I moved to Memphis for grad school and was told "You'll never find anyone to marry up there," by my mother instead of "Good luck! You'll do great!" Three years later, I moved back home and took a crappy job with crappy pay. Then took a slightly better job that quickly turned into a nightmare, but I did meet my BF through that job. Before him was a not-so-long line of short-term relationships that went nowhere. But, since the BF and I have been together for 3 1/2 years and are only living together, I'm still not where I'm "supposed to be" because we should have been married by now. Heaven forbid we would want to be sure that was the right decision before taking the plunge!

So, my dad tells me that he knows of a house for sale and that it is a "really nice house, great neighborhood" etc. He says it is reasonably priced (although at this point I have no idea how much house I can even afford). The problem? It is located even further into Suburbia than I am now, something I am trying to get away from. My parents know this. My dad goes into a diatribe about how I am "throwing my money away paying rent," and how I am "getting older -- I mean, we're all getting older," and I should "invest in a house." I explain that I do want to buy a house, but I just started my new job this week and need to wait a couple of weeks before I go to the bank asking for a loan. So this is what he proposes next: "Well, your Mama and I have talked about it, and we could buy the house and you could just rent it from us. Then later if you wanted to, you could take over the note."

So let me get this straight: I should quit throwing money away on rent and invest in a property, and the way to do that is rent a house from my parents. I love my dad, but I am afraid he may be smoking crack. Nothing about that deal makes any sense. This is a house that we have not even seen yet, I haven't even had the chance to find out how much house I can afford, yet my parents are rip-roaring ready to buy the thing and rent it to me?

My parents are not that well off -- they do okay, and have very little debt, but at this point in their lives I don't know how they would have the funds to purchase another home. No my friends, what I really think is going on is this: My parents are so afraid for me to buy a house in Belhaven, Fondren, or NE Jackson, that they are willing to BUY A HOUSE FOR ME. Just to make sure I am living in an appropriate neighborhood? You betcha. My parents have lived in Crystal Springs for 30 years and have lost all reasoning about the realities of the city of Jackson. Never mind that they grew up here, at least my dad did, and my mom spent a lot of her formative years here. They believe that the entire city is riddled with crime, and that I would be much better off and happier in one of those cookie-cutter houses in a forgettably bland suburban neighborhood. Never mind it would take me even longer to get to work (and more gas) than it does now, or that the property values in these homes are actually not going to increase much more than they already have. No, God forbid, I may move into a home with a Jackson zip code and BLACK PEOPLE nearby*.

Needless to say, I was offended/flabbergasted by this offer. On the one hand, it was quite generous, but on the other, it was a loaded offer that smacked of obligation and awkwardness. No thanks.

My plan is to get pre-approved, talk to some realtor friends of mine, and look in the neighborhoods that I want to look at. I may not let my parents know anything until they get the change of address card. While their assistance with say, a down payment or furniture would be great, I'd rather be a REAL grown-up and do things on my own.



*I could go on for days about this subject, and it probably will be the topic of many a blog post to come. I'm reading Suburban Nation: The Rise of Sprawl and the Decline of the American Dream. It is helping me fine-tune my already strong opinions on this subject.