Despite having to watch Carrie Bradshaw & Co.'s triumphant return while seated next to a heathen (see my earlier blog post), I did find Sex and the City: The Movie to be entertaining, albeit surprisingly melancholy and sometimes dark. I review the film for the web site Mommy Track'd here.
Because SATC did so well in its opening weekend -- $55+ million -- the film studio is already musing aloud about a possible sequel.
What did you think of the film? Did it meet your expectations? What would you want to see in a sequel?
Showing posts with label random ramblings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label random ramblings. Show all posts
Monday, June 2, 2008
'Sex and the City' Experience, Tainted
To the creepy, old man who insisted on sitting right next to me during an opening weekend screening of Sex and the City:
You are a sick man.
Not only did you laugh in a sinister, odd way whenever any sign of human flesh was shown on screen, you laughed uproariously at several key, heart-breaking scenes.
One pivotal scene in particular, involving a character using flowers as a weapon, you laughed so hard and so loud that I couldn't hear what the actors and actresses were saying.
The person with whom I went to see the movie was likewise appalled because your sadistic laughter saw no end. You found another scene, where a character's humiliating emotional anguish was written all over her tear-stained face, to be a howling scream. You even pounded your fist on our shared arm rest to drive home the point that you found it so funny.
Nothing ruins a movie quicker than having a man who's well north of 70 come to a film like this, alone, loudly chortling in the seat next to you at the on-screen nakedness -- both emotional and physical -- especially when it's not meant to be funny.
Signed,
A person who'll need to see the film again and make sure to tell other suspect old men that the seat next to her is taken
Monday, February 4, 2008
Don't Count Your Chickens . . .
Last night’s colossal let-down (re: the Patriots’ collapse and the victory of the team nobody thought would win) provided my three kiddos with a big life lesson on why you should never smugly assume that things will always go your way (like planning a victory parade in Boston before anyone set foot on the field) no matter what sports commentators or conventional wisdom may lead you to believe.
As two of my three kids went to bed in tears last night – The Girl wisely put herself to bed at 9:15 p.m. and received the bad news early today – I tried to hide my disappointment from the rug rats as I mulled over what I’d tell them in the morning once the reality of a perfect season eluding New England’s grasp had sunk in.
By morning, I decided to apply this lesson – it’s not over ‘til it’s over — not just to sports but to life and to politics. I used the example of the presidential race to try to illustrate this point, that regardless of what the media, quoting opinion polls, believe will happen on Super Tuesday, what really matters is what people do once they actually set foot in the voting booths, just like no one knows who’s going to win a Super Bowl until the final whistle. (After all, the pundits have done a lousy job prognosticating about what voters would do in this primary season thus far.)
Of course, none of this has dispelled my children’s sadness and remorse as they cast forlorn glances at their Tom Brady jerseys lying on their bedroom floors. Sadly, election day isn’t as exciting to them as the Super Bowl. Maybe playing our DVD of the triumphant Sox might be the right kind of salve they need as opposed to my ramblings about politics and elections. After all, Spring Training is right around the corner.
As two of my three kids went to bed in tears last night – The Girl wisely put herself to bed at 9:15 p.m. and received the bad news early today – I tried to hide my disappointment from the rug rats as I mulled over what I’d tell them in the morning once the reality of a perfect season eluding New England’s grasp had sunk in.
By morning, I decided to apply this lesson – it’s not over ‘til it’s over — not just to sports but to life and to politics. I used the example of the presidential race to try to illustrate this point, that regardless of what the media, quoting opinion polls, believe will happen on Super Tuesday, what really matters is what people do once they actually set foot in the voting booths, just like no one knows who’s going to win a Super Bowl until the final whistle. (After all, the pundits have done a lousy job prognosticating about what voters would do in this primary season thus far.)
Of course, none of this has dispelled my children’s sadness and remorse as they cast forlorn glances at their Tom Brady jerseys lying on their bedroom floors. Sadly, election day isn’t as exciting to them as the Super Bowl. Maybe playing our DVD of the triumphant Sox might be the right kind of salve they need as opposed to my ramblings about politics and elections. After all, Spring Training is right around the corner.
Monday, May 7, 2007
An ‘Eco-Criminal’
I thought we were doing modestly okay when it came to trying to doing right by the environment.
We recycle as much as possible, even though The Spouse says I carelessly hurl too many things into our recycling receptacles that our local trash folks won’t take. We reuse stuff. We’ve got some fluorescent light bulbs. We keep the house cool in the winter (I frequently accuse The Spouse of trying to freeze me out with Jimmy Carteresque thermostat settings) and don’t crank up the A/C a ton in the summer.
But according to two environmental advocates in the news recently, we should hang our heads in shame because we’ve already, personally, killed two dozen polar bears, a whole flock of migrating birds and melted approximately four ice bergs. How?
Well, we have three children in our house.
And we drive a mini-van.
A University College London professor recommended that his own countrymen and women all have “one less child,” saying that big families should be socially discouraged as an environmental scourge. “The decision to have children should be seen as a very big one and one that should take the environment into account,” Professor John Guillebaud told the Sunday Times.
On a more local note, at the behest of an environmental actitivst, the legislative board governing the town of Brookline is asking voters in the community’s Town Meeting to approve a measure to double the excise tax on SUVs and minivans (which are included as evil vehicles, according to a spokesman who was on local radio this morning) because they’re not fuel efficient. This conveniently ignores the fact that the government mandates that young children be strapped into safety seats which don’t fit into smaller vehicles, thus our mini-van, purchased when our twins and younger son were 2, 2 and a newborn because their seats wouldn’t fit into a sedan.
I wonder which would be considered a worse eco-crime by these activists: Having more than one kid or driving around in a minivan? Put ‘em together, and include the fact that I use more than one square EVERY time I use restroom facilities, and I should be on some sort of eco-Most Wanted poster.
E-mail Meredith
We recycle as much as possible, even though The Spouse says I carelessly hurl too many things into our recycling receptacles that our local trash folks won’t take. We reuse stuff. We’ve got some fluorescent light bulbs. We keep the house cool in the winter (I frequently accuse The Spouse of trying to freeze me out with Jimmy Carteresque thermostat settings) and don’t crank up the A/C a ton in the summer.
But according to two environmental advocates in the news recently, we should hang our heads in shame because we’ve already, personally, killed two dozen polar bears, a whole flock of migrating birds and melted approximately four ice bergs. How?
Well, we have three children in our house.
And we drive a mini-van.
A University College London professor recommended that his own countrymen and women all have “one less child,” saying that big families should be socially discouraged as an environmental scourge. “The decision to have children should be seen as a very big one and one that should take the environment into account,” Professor John Guillebaud told the Sunday Times.
On a more local note, at the behest of an environmental actitivst, the legislative board governing the town of Brookline is asking voters in the community’s Town Meeting to approve a measure to double the excise tax on SUVs and minivans (which are included as evil vehicles, according to a spokesman who was on local radio this morning) because they’re not fuel efficient. This conveniently ignores the fact that the government mandates that young children be strapped into safety seats which don’t fit into smaller vehicles, thus our mini-van, purchased when our twins and younger son were 2, 2 and a newborn because their seats wouldn’t fit into a sedan.
I wonder which would be considered a worse eco-crime by these activists: Having more than one kid or driving around in a minivan? Put ‘em together, and include the fact that I use more than one square EVERY time I use restroom facilities, and I should be on some sort of eco-Most Wanted poster.
E-mail Meredith
Friday, April 27, 2007
“Hot” Mommy Bloggers
When I saw the e-mail’s subject heading, “You are one hot mommy blogger!” I almost deleted the e-mail, as it sounded like any one of countless pieces of spam that promises to enlarge parts of the body that I don’t possess. But, on a whim, I opened it.
And then guffawed.
Seriously.
Guffawed.
Someone has nominated me for a Blogger’s Choice Award. In the “Hottest Mommy Blogger” category . . . along with about 47,000 other mothers who blog.
This is not the type of nomination I had in mind when I enrolled in Journalism school lo so many years ago.
But hey, it’s nice that someone I don’t even know thought to nominate me for something other than for the Nitwit Parent of the Year Award. (And no, it wasn’t The Spouse who submitted the nomination, though I’ll encourage him to vote.)
Wanna cast a vote in this “hot” blogger silliness? Go here.
Tuesday, April 3, 2007
An Open Question for Sports Programmers
Why would you air advertisements on television for things like violent and scary movies during a 4 o’clock Opening Day baseball game? When kids are watching?
And, while I’m at it, why would the folks who put the NCAA basketball tournament games on television during the day do the same thing?
E-mail Meredith
And, while I’m at it, why would the folks who put the NCAA basketball tournament games on television during the day do the same thing?
E-mail Meredith
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Non-Sequitur of the Week
“Does Oprah sing opera?” asked Jonah, 8.When I burst out laughing, he kept asking, “Well DOES she?”
“No.”
“Well,” he said, contemplating this for a moment, “which would you rather watch, Oprah or opera?”
Contemplating his response for a moment, I replied, “Oprah.”
“Does Oprah sing opera?” asked Jonah, 8.
As I burst out laughing, he continued asking, “Well DOES she?”
“No,” I said.
“Well,” he said, contemplating this for a moment, “which would you rather watch, Oprah or opera?”
Contemplating his response for a moment, I then replied, “Oprah.”
(Maybe he has a future in late night comedy.)
(Image from, where else . . . one of Oprah’s bazillion web sites.)
Three for Thursday
Item #1: The Ides of March
I should’ve known it was March 15 — without having to be reminded by the radio talk show host this morning — because:
· My internet connection went down for most of the morning. Grrr.
· My kids told me they’d be made fun of by idiot grade schoolers for the fact that their mother (no one ever blames the father) forgot to send to them to school with any number of items (from boxtops to pajamas to don for a Pajama Day celebration . . . there’s a never-ending slate of “special” days parents are supposed to remember, lest they be labeled incompetent nincompoops. FYI, I’m the chairwoman of Parental Nincompoops R Us).
But, just to be on the safe side and ward off any other Ides inconveniences, I’ll keep my eyes open for any suspicious-looking characters looking to go all Brutus on me.
Item #2: Let the Madness Begin
Even though my preferred college basketball team – the UMass Minutemen — is playing in the National Invitational Tournament instead of the Big Dance (*stomping my feet in vain over the injustices borne by teams from non-power conferences*), there are still Massachusetts teams in the NCAA tourney whose progress I’m following.
My fingers are crossed for the 13th seeded Holy Cross, from Worcester, MA. I’m a sucker for underdogs. (Plus my brother-in-law went to Holy Cross.) However what I’d really like to see is a 16th seed knocking off a #1 seed. That would put a giant smile on my face. But then again, I believed in the Tooth Fairy much longer than I probably should have . . .
Item #3: An Irish Kiss Off
My kids’ ancestors comprise a hodgepodge of ethnicities that cover a large swath of Europe. Among their ethnic identification is, if my last name didn’t give you a clue, Irishness. Although they’re only 1/8 Irish, I typically try to make St. Patty’s Day a semi-big deal in our house, attempting to feed the madness with Irish themed stickers and shamrock stuff, playing Irish music (okay, it’s just an excuse for a U2-a-thon, but hey, they’re Irish), putting the annual South Boston politics-bashing breakfast on TV and serving my three kiddos the oh-so-cliched boiled dinner – which will be eaten at my parents’ house this year.
Only problem is, the ingrates loathe the cliched meal, hate the Irish soda bread and typically show no interest in any shamrock craft stuff. They’re rather be eating chicken nuggets slathered in ketchup — anything that’s not green — and sugar by the pound. While listening to the soundtrack to “High School Musical” (which, if you’ve ever heard it, is like a highly infectious disease, the songs unconsciously settle into your brain and refuse to leave). And playing the Lego “Star Wars” video game until their retinas are singed.
It’s like a backwards version of the “Kiss me I’m Irish” buttons.
It’s an Irish kiss off.
E-mail Meredith
I should’ve known it was March 15 — without having to be reminded by the radio talk show host this morning — because:
· My internet connection went down for most of the morning. Grrr.
· My kids told me they’d be made fun of by idiot grade schoolers for the fact that their mother (no one ever blames the father) forgot to send to them to school with any number of items (from boxtops to pajamas to don for a Pajama Day celebration . . . there’s a never-ending slate of “special” days parents are supposed to remember, lest they be labeled incompetent nincompoops. FYI, I’m the chairwoman of Parental Nincompoops R Us).
But, just to be on the safe side and ward off any other Ides inconveniences, I’ll keep my eyes open for any suspicious-looking characters looking to go all Brutus on me.
Item #2: Let the Madness Begin
Even though my preferred college basketball team – the UMass Minutemen — is playing in the National Invitational Tournament instead of the Big Dance (*stomping my feet in vain over the injustices borne by teams from non-power conferences*), there are still Massachusetts teams in the NCAA tourney whose progress I’m following.
My fingers are crossed for the 13th seeded Holy Cross, from Worcester, MA. I’m a sucker for underdogs. (Plus my brother-in-law went to Holy Cross.) However what I’d really like to see is a 16th seed knocking off a #1 seed. That would put a giant smile on my face. But then again, I believed in the Tooth Fairy much longer than I probably should have . . .
Item #3: An Irish Kiss Off
My kids’ ancestors comprise a hodgepodge of ethnicities that cover a large swath of Europe. Among their ethnic identification is, if my last name didn’t give you a clue, Irishness. Although they’re only 1/8 Irish, I typically try to make St. Patty’s Day a semi-big deal in our house, attempting to feed the madness with Irish themed stickers and shamrock stuff, playing Irish music (okay, it’s just an excuse for a U2-a-thon, but hey, they’re Irish), putting the annual South Boston politics-bashing breakfast on TV and serving my three kiddos the oh-so-cliched boiled dinner – which will be eaten at my parents’ house this year.
Only problem is, the ingrates loathe the cliched meal, hate the Irish soda bread and typically show no interest in any shamrock craft stuff. They’re rather be eating chicken nuggets slathered in ketchup — anything that’s not green — and sugar by the pound. While listening to the soundtrack to “High School Musical” (which, if you’ve ever heard it, is like a highly infectious disease, the songs unconsciously settle into your brain and refuse to leave). And playing the Lego “Star Wars” video game until their retinas are singed.
It’s like a backwards version of the “Kiss me I’m Irish” buttons.
It’s an Irish kiss off.
E-mail Meredith
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