Guys I just feel like Princess Buttercup should have known it was Wesley under his black eye mask.
I mean, you can SEE OVER HALF OF HIS FACE. And his entire body when he’s walking around talking about his own death. And she could hear his voice saying all those sentences back to back to her. A full on conversation they had about her betrayal. And she couldn’t tell it was him? Please. Honestly, who could mistake those plump youthful lips, serial killer mustache and pale ocean blue eyes? Get it together, Buttercup.
Literally the only thing ol’ gal could not see were his eyebrows, forehead, hair line and hair and head. And that is not enough to keep even a fragment of a detection of “TRUE LOVE” at bay. No. Not buying it, Butters.
This has bothered me for over 30 years. I feel much lighter now.
The kids have been playing that old game “Would You Rather” lately, and omg they have so, so wrong.
Here are some examples of my life right now:
“Mom, would you rather get stung by a jellyfish, or get a huuuuge basket of flowers?”
Me, “Well obviously the flowers. And that’s not how this goes. You have to present two extremes, both either really really awful, or super super thrilling. That way it’s a harder decision. Got it?”
“Mom, would you rather have an Octopus spray you with ink, or have an earthworm toot on you?”
“Mom, would you rather get eaten by an alligator, or clean a huuuuuuuge pile of toys in my room?”
“Mom, would you rather have to clean my room for infinity years times infinity, or get tooted on by an elephant?”
Oh, another tooting one?
“Mom, would you rather roller skate all day long with no shoes and slip for infinity times infinity, or have another baby in your tummy?”
OKAAAAY NOW YOU GET IT!
Where are the skates?
We can please stop saying “anywho” already?
Let’s talk about Mother’s Day movies! If that’s a thing. Is that a thing? I feel like a good snuggly movie on Sunday night, so I’d love your suggestions. I just watched Marriage Story (not a mother’s day movie) the other night and IT WAS FANTASTIC. Heartbreaking, tragic, gutting, but so real and so raw and dang that Driver can sing! I love how he held his gaze along with his hand in the air while holding that long note in “Being Alive” and then . . . fade to black. Brilliant. Tears. So many tears.
And honestly Johansson can do no wrong. I even loved her short choppy ‘do. I did. No I really really did.
I’m not really looking for another movie like that, though.
Oh! What about Heartburn?! I’m finishing the book tomorrow (ugh I miss Nora Ephron), so that might be fun.
Give me some good campy, gritty, sweet movies that would be fitting for Sunday night. I feel like anything with Diane Keaton is an obvious yes.
These lil’ bebes haven’t hatched yet! I’m still betting on Mother’s Day, but the kids thought Wednesday. So I win, haha nanny nanny boo boo! (I’m almost 44, why do you ask?) I’ll show you in Stories once they do.
We’ll do our ritual Saturday masked-up coffee stroll around the Village for flowers, wine, a baguette and some good cheese. (yes I pretend I’m French, why do you ask?) And on Sunday I plan on making my late Memaw’s famous chocolate pie, along with some book lounging out back under my canopy, and roasting a buttermilk chicken for dinner. And watching whatever movie you tell me to. Of course.
In case you missed it this week, a cozy little picnic for back-pocket summer inspo! And a super chill, lo-fi trip hop mixtape that’s already making so many of you happy. Which giddifies (it’s a word) my heart in ways I cannot articulate. So thank you for listening to it.
Also, on a scale from hipster ombre – trashy mug shot, just how bad are your roots right now?