Movie Madness

Yikes! It is back to Blockbuster for me. Viewing a movie from the comfiness of my couch has never looked so good.

My youngest daughter wanted to see The Proposal and I, being a Sandra Bullock fan—and having recently seen a very buff Ryan Reynolds on the cover of Entertainment Weekly (check it out, ladies)—said, “Let’s go!”

Well! How much did that little evening out cost, you may ask? It was a whopping $19.50 for two tickets (including my daughter’s student discount) and another $8.75 to buy an Icee and a box of Sno-Caps. I opted to forego the small popcorn as that would have been an additional—gulp!—$6.00. All total, kids, that adds up to $28.25. For a movie! With no popcorn!

My daughter was nonplussed until I explained that the cost of our 90-minute movie could have purchased her a new outfit at Kohl’s, or nine Taco Bell Crunchwrap Supremes. Her teenage brain practically shorted out at the thought. I mean, like, OMG! Who wants a movie when you can get new clothes or a mountain of fast food?

Back in my teen years, I used to go to the movies every Wednesday with my Daddy. The tickets were less than $3.00 each and the popcorn was $0.50. Yeah, those really were the days, back when you could take your kid to the movies without hyperventilating or having to take out a second mortgage to afford it.

It will be a long time before I go to the movies again. In the meantime, I’ll make my own popcorn, brew some sweet tea, and watch DVDs in my PJ’s. And if I want a second look at Ryan Reynolds, Johnny Depp or Hugh Jackman I’ll employ judicious use of the rewind button.

Now that’s entertainment!

Til next time,
Lisa

What's In a Name?

Joe and I walked the dogs at the park last evening after dinner and stopped, as is our routine, at the fenced dog run area so Rigby and Penny could do their doggy frolicking with all their doggy friends. While our hairy kids slobbered and trotted and chased themselves silly, Joe and I enjoyed the company of other dog owners.

Dog owners at the dog park are like parents of children at the playground—they join in conversation with strangers about whom they know nothing, drawn by the universal consistencies of pet ownership/child rearing. And, like parents, we are known by our dogs, rather than ourselves. If any of the dog park denizens spot me at the grocery store they will not, any one of them, say, “Hey, there’s Lisa!” They might, however, be heard to say, “Hey, there’s Rigby’s and Penny’s mom!”

I, similarly, cannot lay a name to even one of those nice people with whom I share conversation while our dogs sniff butts, share slobber, and wrestle in the mud (gosh, it almost sounds X-rated, doesn’t it?). I know which man is Giselle’s dad (she is a German Shorthair Pointer) and which lady belongs to Huey (a 10-year-old Bassett Hound), but their actual names elude me. Somewhere out there is a psychologist who could write an entire thesis on this, but you know, I’d never remember his name.

I’m not sure of the significance of this whole remember-the-dog, forget-the-owner thing. I think it has to do with the carefree air that permeates the dog park; everyone is having a stress free moment, so why ruin it with names and job titles? It may also have something to do with being an old bagger with a bad memory, but this is my blog so it is okay for me to be in denial about that. Acceptable, even.

So I’m not old, I just like to spend time talking and laughing with kindred spirits who understand the joy to be found in a beloved dog’s wagging tail and lolling tongue. After all, as Shakespeare might say, a dog lover by any other name would still carry liver treats in his pocket.

Til next time –
Lisa

Gwinnett Medical Center - a Hip Place!

My sister visited this past week and took a misstep on the stairs that resulted in an ER visit and surgery with screws placed for a fractured hip. Recovery won't be a fun time, but she is strong-willed and full of heart, so her success is guaranteed. No worries there. I could go on about that, but I'm hoping that when the meds wear off she'll do her own blog about recovering from hip surgery and you can read it straight from the source. I'll nag her about that.

This post is a serious one about the hospital staff at Gwinnett Medical Center here in gorgeous (and traffic laden) Gwinnett County, Georgia. The staff at this facility has been outstanding, from the ER check-in attendant to the nurses and tech staff. Even the physicians--with the exception of one arrogant cardiologist--have been attentive and forthcoming.

Spending time in a hospital is never pleasant, but a caring, friendly staff certainly eases the emotional burden carried by the patient and family members. In the four days (and counting) that my sis has been laid up and hurting, I have yet to encounter a grouch. Our every request and question has been met with a smile and the follow-through of a timely response.

It has been a long few days with more long days ahead; but thanks to the staff of Gwinnett Medical Center (yeah, yeah, yeah...I sound like a cheesy commercial, but I swear I'm not being paid off) I feel confident that my sister's recovery and transition to home care will be handled efficiently and well. Just knowing that--believing that--relieves a lot of stress.

I don't know what they are putting in the coffee at the employee lounge over there, but it must be some pretty terrific stuff.

Thank you GMC -
Lisa