i call this photo 'the shining.'
we'll call this a date because (a) i'm showered and 70 percent of my clothes are 50 percent clean. (b) we are going to eat in a restaurant instead of having a restaurant lackey deliver the food via grand prix. (c) we are leaving the couch after sunset, but before midnight. (d) i am wearing lipstick instead of kiss my face mint chapstick. (e)i have made a vow to myself to remove my toque when we are indoors.
and if these are the parameters for a date-date, it must be our third date-date. i get cramps between my soul and my kidneys when i remove the hat meaning most of our time together doesn't qualify as date-dates.
we eat dinner at chester creek cafe. i deviate from the standard: no middle eastern plate for this girl. i order three-cheese macaroni, which could only taste better if i was actually hung over, wasn't wearing pants and there were eight cheeses. i'd like to forgo my forko and put my face in the gooey mound, motorboat that radiatore pasta.
cheese is so good.
in my life, i've considered the seven minutes of previews an extra 14-minute bubble of when it is appropriate to arrive at a theater and still be able catch the gist of a movie. i'm all about gists.
chuck thinks you're late if the lights dim before the jackhole in the seat behind you clonks you in the back of the head with his unlaced sketchers for the first time. so, in sticking to the socially responsible side of excess, we arrive a half hour early for "juno." we spend 18 minutes in the lobby, wrist deep in popcorn and mastering a carnival game i think was invented on the price is right.
we eventually settled into the theater rich in superballs and candy necklace prizes.
first i was super excited about juno. then i weighed my enthusiasm and decided if i didn't set down my pompoms, hide my keds and stop chanting "j-u-n-o, juno, juno, juuuuuuu-NO!" i would definitely be dizzy with disappointment. plus, in some of the trailers, the title character's monotoned snarkiness seemed annoying. so i decided to hate juno, and hate it really hard.
but, honestly, juno was fantastic. every sentence wicked, plotted and hilarious, yet came out seamless. i think the pubescent clods sitting behind us were making fun of me when i made a beeline for chuck's armpit because i was suffocating with weep. nicely played, diablo.
we made it back to the non-date zone, where i fell asleep during episode four of a dexter marathon. unfortunate because i believe it takes four episodes to like a show. now i've seen three point two five episodes; chuck has seen four. i may have to hide the second disc somewhere he will never look. perhaps in a folger's coffee can.
my new year's eve hangover found me today. i thought i skirted that sucker.