The Date, Redux

Ah, yes, the Sunday night hot date with LatteMommy.  Glorious.  A few snafus, though:

  • We failed in every way to hit a Starbucks, which is odd because A) we were out way past our bedtime and all yawny by 8:30 and B) um, she calls herself LatteMommy.  I expected some truth in advertising, woman.

  • You know those people who make random u-turns in the middle of the road where they really shouldn't?  Like, say, right before a huge, blind turn?  Or right at the on-ramp to the freeway when there's a line of 8 million cars waiting to get onto said freeway, but that person is clearly too good to get on it?  Or right in the middle of a long, straight, busy street, as if they want everyone else around them to suddenly test the quality and performance ability of their brakes?  Don't you hate those people?  So do I, especially when that person is me.  Sorry I almost killed you 5 times, LatteMommy.

  • We spent an hour in Target, and I failed to leave with Ketchup.  Hell, we spent  hours in America and I failed to leave with ketchup.  I NEED AMERICAN KETCHUP.

  • I also forgot to buy cheap America gasoline and cheap American cigarettes.  *sigh*

  • No cavities of any kind were searched.  *double sigh*

  • Amniotic fluid in the mouth is just gross, but makes for really good stories later.

  • Someone who shall remain nameless had to spend at least 5 of our quality drinking-cocktails-minutes on the phone with someone else who shall remain nameless explaining to him the fine art of, I kid you not, boiling water.  Which, honestly, should go in the highlight column and not the snafoo column.  Bygones.

Other thoughts on the movie, since, yeah, the tickets were comped thanks to Dove.

  • Meg Ryan's plastic surgeon is clearly the leading authority and go-to guy if you want to have Michael Jackson's nose and The Joker's upper lip.

  • Sometimes you can go see a movie like, say, The Women, and even though the storyline isn't what I'd call fluid, even though the characters aren't exactly developed, even though the movie is chocked full of cliches and stereotypes, you can still walk away from it and think, "Heck, that was pretty alright" because you get what they were trying to do.  You appreciate the points they wanted to make about body image and about women being empowered.

  • Debra Messing is the funniest woman alive.  Just sayin'.  She totally saved it in the end for me.

Updated to add: Skip the movie, watch this instead:

007, With Carseats

I like dating.  Overly.  Dating is, for me, the funnest thing I never really did.  See, I kinda married my second boyfriend and so my "dating" experience can be summed up in four words; train tracks, and Old Chicago.  That's about it.

Being the type of girl who likes to get her kicks where she can, I try to find ways to creatively maneuver around that whole "being married" bit and get myself out there.  My friend Veronica and I have been known to go on a mean date, one involving posh martinis in little Russian cafes at the beginning and hot tubs at the end.  Meow.  Today, I am being all James Bond and going on an international date.  With a married woman.

Hel-lo homewrecker.

A few weeks ago Dove sent me a purse (did you know I have a purse thing?  I have a purse thing) that had some shampoo, some conditioner, some deodorant (which, shock, actually kind of rocks) and 2 movie tickets to see The Women, which opened in theaters on Friday.

Guess where the tickets are only good in?  That's right, AMERICA.  Um, America?  You're, like, *this* much of the world.  Share with the group already.  Puff puff give, you know?

I was totally going to give away the tickets and then I remembered that I live 30 minutes from America, and my friend Latte Mommy lives 5 minutes from America, and we both really loves us some Target, and the Target closest to here is right next to the American Movie Theater closest to here, and yeah...I totally asked her out.  On a date.  Over international boundary lines.

Really, how many people have asked you out on a date that required a passport and, potentially, a cavity search?

Let me rephrase that: Really, how many people have asked you out on a date that required a passport and, potentially, a cavity search by a man in uniform?

Still not right: Really, how many people have asked you out on a date that required a passport and, potentially, a cavity search by a grumpy, caffeinated, uniformed government official?  While sober?

So, at about 2pm, LatteMommy and I will set out on a whirlwind adventure of mystery and intrigue in a foreign country.  There will be dinner.  There will be a movie; a Chick Flick movie, at that.  There will be Starbucks and a there will be a pack of Marlboro's, dammit.  And there will be Target.

TARGET, people.