Sunday, February 20, 2011

Movie Opinions vs. Movie Reviews

See my other blog: Movie Reviews

I don't really write movie “reviews.” I add personal things to my Movie blog, so it doesn’t count as review. I don't care what people watch. But I do believe life is too short to watch bad movies. We can use all the help we can get as we wind our way through the isles of video stores, Netflix or Amazon websites, or flipping our way through television channels.

I think the movies the media raves about, no one really likes. The ones I like no one even sees. Hardly anyone. There is ME and the people that make them. And perhaps their relatives.

I think movies are the meaning to life. Fiction can be more real than real life. Have you noticed? Even ones based on true stories seem real.

Okay. Okay. I’m trying to be witty. But it's true. When I started being witty women weren't allowed to be witty. People who read my stuff frequently don't get my humor. One comment on facebook said they hoped I found something to make me happy soon instead of sounding so negative and sarcastic. What was his excuse?

I like older movies. With more recent movies I have a tendency to rent one and then buy it and watch it a bunch more times. I think that might be obsessive/compulsive, but it’s more fun than washing ones hands a million times a day. (If I were afraid of germs, I would've never had kids. I mean they're germy little things--children. (Not those other things you're thinking of.)

However, I have overcome my compulsion to shop and spend dozens of dollars on things I don’t really need. Like, I can either lose weight or gain some to fit perfectly into the clothes I already have.

I also get hooked on an actor or actress and watch all their movies, similar to reading all the books of a certain author. In order. I do that too.

I have been falling in-love with movie stars since I was 8. I think the answer is reincarnation. I knew those old Hollywood guys in a previous life. For instance, I loved Clark Gable. I think I was just a wanna-be actress who partied her self to death. (I don’t think partied is a real word. I hope I spelled it right.)

It's good to express myself in my blogs. Sort of like therapy. It’s good I have something to do (like write.) I like staying at home in winter. Only thing I must go to is doctor appointments and therapy. Therapy is starting to help. I do better when I act like an adult. I am building up my confidence more now. How else would I get the nerve to put this out into cyberspace? I wonder if Woody Allen has a blog? Could’ve saved himself a lot of money over the years on psychoanalysis.

I guess I could call my blog "Diary of a Mad Widow" (remember that old movie Diary of a Mad Housewife? I fell in love with the actor in that movie. He's ugly now and was in that horrid movie The Box. Icky. (Sorry Frank, nothing personal.)

My shrink put me on antidepressants because all I could do was sit here and cry and fee awful. I now sit here and watch movies and knit but I’m way happier. Life’s a blast no matter what you think, feel, say or do. No seriously, it is. Try it.

When the weather warms up I plan to travel. I’m taking my dog. I spend a lot of time treating my dog like a baby. She has a bad hip (so do I) so we can keep up with each other.

I like having her in my room at night because she wakes me up early. The only problem with that is feeling sleepy at 8:30 PM. Bad news if I happen to be out driving.

So...I reveal all my inner activities while other people tell me things they actually do. My therapist says I'm an introvert. No duh. Manic Depressive too. Known that for 50 years. Now that I am being treated for it I should probably find something to do with my life.

Oh, I do have something I do! I'm in a book study Monday nights. We’re reading Tibetan Book of the Dead with commentary. Mostly we bring dinner and visit with each other after reading out loud. We don't understand what we're reading so we can't really discuss it.

I make the effort to get dressed and go to church now and then, mostly to see my friends. I met my late husband at church in 1987. But meeting men that way isn’t going to work for me anymore. I used to attract men with sex and money. I need a blind boyfriend who doesn’t want to go shopping.

Now I hang out with my women friends, all other writers. They make me feel cool. And normal.

Thanks for letting me get this off my chest. (What does that mean?) Like that girl who said in Imagine Me and You her teacher always said (imagine English accents.) "There's no problem insoluble given a big enough plastic bag." The character she was cheering up asked, "What does that mean?" They were both very cool in that movie. One of them was nine.

I’d better quit now and go see what my daughter-in-law fixed for lunch. Oh yeah. I’m home alone. One of these days I’m gonna learn how to cook. My kids would have appreciated that.


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