Thank god I was wearing a long coat.

Four tickets for a double-header movie session: $20 (we had a GC), popcorn and Milk Duds: $10, finding the Milk Dud you dropped during the movie stuck to your ass at the end of the night...priceless.

We saw The Lovely Bones and It’s Complicated. Normally, The Lovely Bones wouldn’t even be on my radar---I hate scary movies; always have, always will. (Long before I hit double-digits in age, I watched The Nightmare on Elm Street in the basement of my grandparents’ NY home with my older cousins and sisters. I was so terrified that I ran up the basement stairs and away from the movie and pulled and pulled on the stuck basement door, panicked tears in my eyes as I tried to escape, until finally I burst into the cigarette-smoke filled light of my grandmother’s kitchen. I never recovered from the experience; nor, probably, from the second-hand smoke.)

But I was curious to see Stanley Tucci’s Golden Globe-nominated performance (love the Tucci) and the movie was pitched to me as more of a thriller which I thought I could handle and sometimes even like. The verdict: I lost years of my life to the stress and anxiety that the movie evoked. Plus, it deals with the murder of a child (not a spoiler---that’s what the entire movie is about) and also a rape (which, although not depicted in the movie, was incorporated in my viewing experience after reading an article about how director Peter Jackson purposely omitted it from the film...but couldn’t take from my brain) and such themes where children are concerned are more than I can bear...even in the news.

Dan was the one who pitched it as a thriller and I blame myself for listening to him. This is the same man who once brought home The Exorcism of Emily Rose and pitched it as a legal thriller---which it is NOT! I truly still feel anger towards him for this as the images of that movie still haunt me. (I had to Google the movie just now to make sure I had the correct name of the film and I hesitated to do so because I worried images from the movie would come up on the search.) If you couldn’t tell from the title---which neither Dan nor I, apparently, could---it’s about an exorcism; meaning it deals with the possession of a young girl by evil ghosts, or the devil, or whomever it is that does the crazy-eye, head-spinning possessing thing. I would watch The Lovely Bones nonstop for 24 hours before I watched Emily Rose again or any other ghost movie for that matter. Ghosts scare me more than anything (writing that now, I realize just how ridiculous it sounds) and I will dedicate another entry to this whole topic and how my family exploits this fear at every opportunity.

So, I was so disturbed after The Lovely Bones that it was imperative that I see another movie just to get the creepiness off me. We grabbed a latte (me) and a cappuccino (Dan) in the interim and then headed in for It’s Complicated. Meryl Streep was wonderful as ever; I’ve never seen an actor, male or woman, transform and own a role like she does. She’s the best ever, as far as I see it. The movie was funny and had some fresh jokes. Dan even laughed out loud once which he rarely does. The movie which depicts a woman (Streep) juggling two men, her ex and her architect (Alec Baldwin and Steve Martin, respectively), has been described as "porn for 50-something women" and as a 50-something woman, myself, I enjoyed it. I sometimes walk out of family-based comedies inspired and feeling like I could write funny screenplays like those I've just watched; this is what I felt after this movie and what I most hope for when going to the movies.

Love a good double-header. (That’s what she said.) It was a great weekend on the whole. On Saturday morning we headed to a farmer’s market held in a local school gymnasium and bought a steak from a woman who cared for the actual grass-fed cow from which it came and a pound of fresh fish from another woman whose husband had caught and filleted the actual piece of cod I was holding on their boat the night before. (I love that.) Last night we made a fresh basil pesto that we served over the cod and actually had a candlelit dinner. (Can you imagine?) Then we watched the Golden Globes---cuz we’re awards show people---and I reveled in my fantasy of sitting between Tina Fey and Amy Poehler at some future awards show (where I win for a comedic family-based screenplay that I’ve written). A good weekend, indeed.

And if it has to be a Monday, I’m glad to see it’s a snowy one; I think we’re getting about nine inches. I love waking up to a newly white world, I just hate driving in it. A couple of years ago after a particularly terrifying hours-long schlep through a giant snow storm, I became pretty phobic about the whole thing. (The fact that I cancelled a spray tan appointment this morning really demonstrates this. Normally, I would punch old ladies if it meant getting to my spray tan appointments on time.) My chest tightens at the thought of sliding on a patch of ice through a stop sign, fishtailing near the edge of a cliff-like drop, or my windshield icing up and the wiper fluid freezing before it can clean the glass. All of this has happened too many times to count and I’m done pushing my luck; nothing in my life is so important to put my or anyone else’s life at risk. Heading out in the midst of a giant snow storm goes against my gut and I’m done doing that if I can help it. Modern technology in the form of four-wheel drive and SUVs are no match for Mother Nature but we humans often think we know better. I tried to get Dan to work from home this morning. “I just wish this was one of those moments when you just listened to your wife,” I said, but he left for work anyway and reported back to me that there were a bunch of cars off the road. I’m grateful he got there safely but am hopeful he thinks twice next time...he won’t.

Tonight I head out to Bec’s house to watch Molly until close to midnight. I’ll get her through dinner and showering and books and bedtime. Dan will join me and after she’s sleeping we’ll indulge in their expansive cable lineup (that we so miss). Maybe we’ll pretend we’re teenagers and eat all the Pringles and make out on the couch.

I feel grateful to have had such a nice weekend and to be able to sit in my warm apartment looking out at the soft snow falling and the quiet of winter. Writing that, I feel that surge of guilt that I've been experiencing all week for having such blessings and safety while people are suffering as they are in Haiti (and elsewhere in the world). I know the guilt is not productive but I think it’s important to be mindful and maintain awareness. I like to believe that collective prayers and concern do something.

Though, money helps, too. Please give if you can. I know one of my inclinations during such times as this is to avert my eyes because the sorrow often feels stifling. And while I don’t think you have to submerge yourself in the sadness (yet another inclination of mine), try to read some of the stories and look at some of the pictures to understand what’s really going on. People don’t have anything to eat or drink, children have been orphaned, medical care is being doled out based on who has a better chance of living. So, please, give if you can.

Doctors without Borders

Partners in Health

American Red Cross

Gratitude can sometimes be the antidote to guilt; I think I'll try a dose of that this Monday.