It is Sunday night, and I am drinking my 57th Aquapod of the night because Marvin and I had Chinese food for dinner and Mr. Salty called and wants his sodium content back. Yeesch. I feel like a salt lick.
It is going to bother my mother that I am drinking this much water before bed. "Won't you have to get up and go to the bathroom?" I can just hear her. It bugs her that I don't have to go as much as she does. It also bugs her that I fail to have wadded-up Kleenex in every pocket. Seriously, does this woman have a cocaine problem that I don't know about? Whose nose needs this much wiping?
Speaking of people who are older than me, I went to the movies today because Marvin was playing guitars with his friend Ron, which I understand has nothing to do with anyone being older than me yet and you wish I'd get to the freaking point for once. But really, who is the nicest wife ever? Certainly not me, but I am definitely up there with the pretty good wives.
Nearly every weekend, Marvin's friend Ron comes over and the two of them get out 11,367 pieces of musical equipment and spread it yonder. Plus, then they play loud music and sing. They usually do it at our house because Ron has two kids and two dogs. Which I guess is more chaotic than one dog and three cats. And a paparazzi wife. Hey, I just noticed you can see two small bookshelves in that photo above.
Oh, and in answer to all the things you asked me in my bookshelf post, we have a bunch of 8-track players and I can't believe anyone is excited about them because I personally would like to be playing 8-tracks out Marvin's hind end. We have anything that ever played music ever at any point in history in our house, and we usually have 87 examples of each genre. We have a Victrola, 950 portable radios (that's what those multicolor balls are someone asked about before, that you can just see past Ron, there), we have fancy radios, fancy stereos, we have stuff I don't even know what it is, and all I want to do is hear the same four ABBA songs on cassette that I have liked since 1979.
So, GETTING BACK TO THE PART WHERE I WAS GONNA TALK ABOUT OLD PEOPLE, when Ron came over, I made myself scarce so I went to the movies. I went to a French film called Tell No One and the only other people in there were two older couples and then two older women together.
Oh. And I did want to show you that on the back of Marvin's notebook he has a picture of Richard Carpenter. Okay, why? Should I be at all concerned?
So, before the movie starts, said older people were all talking. A lot. I mean, no one was taking the time for any companionable silence. I was thinking okay, maybe I am just noticing it because I am here alone, you know? But then? When the movie started? And there were subtitles?
Through the whole movie.
"WHAT WAS THAT!?"
"WHAT DID THAT ONE SAY?"
"IT SAID, 'YOUR WIFE IS DEAD!' "
"HIS LIFE IS RED?"
"HIS WIFE IS RED? WHY IS SHE RED? WHAT SMELLS PAINT? DO YOU SMELL PAINT?"
I mean, you all know I like me the old people. And I would've thought out of any group of people at the theater, OLD people would be the most polite. I mean, weren't they taught to be quiet in the theater? I would have thought those darn kids would be the ones to talk and be annoying. And it wasn't just the subtitles. They were talking back to the screen. There was one part where the guy with the red, dead wife found pictures of his wife all beat up, and he told his friend he'd never beaten his wife. One of the women said:
"WELL IF IT WASN'T YOU, WHO ELSE, BUB?"
I mean, this was a FOREIGN FILM! Who WERE these yahoos at my movie? I couldn't believe it! I wanted to give all six of them a good scolding after, but I didn't dare. I still love me the old people, and have signed up to be a visitor to people who apparently have no visitors. What if it's one of these magnificent six and they recognize me as the terrible woman who yelled at them at Tell No One?
Maybe they thought it was called Tell Everyone.