More Snot, More Secrets I Cannot Reveal, and Something About Sewers.

SIX

Remember that old song from Sesame Street:  One of these things is not like the other, one of these things just doesn’t belong?

Went to Lu’s Hibachi Buffet tonight with the girls.

And…uh…Eric.

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Then went to see Les Miserables with the girls…

…and Eric.

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I don’t know whether or not I liked the movie.  I mean, you may not know this if you didn’t take French in high school, like I did, but in English the title is “The Miserable”.  The Miserable?!  If I’d have known that’s what Les Miserables meant, I might not have gone!

How can anyone say, “Oh, yes, I loved a movie where every character slogged through years of pure misery dressed in dirty rags with bare feet in the winter, and almost all the characters (spoiler) died. It was great!”

There was lots of sweat and tears and snot and blood. I wish I could find a word besides “like” to describe how I felt about the movie.  I’m not sure I “liked” it, but I something’d it.  I’m just not sure what that something is yet.  Maybe I’ll have it figured out by tomorrow.  I suppose I can say that it was powerful, but beyond that, I’m at a loss for words.  (Imagine that!)

The movie was pretty long.  I wish they’d bring back intermission for long movies.  Gone with the Wind had an intermission.  I missed an entire scene in The Hobbit halfway through, because I had to go.  The Hobbit needed an intermission and so does The Miserable.  My bum was getting tired from sitting still for so long.  I wished I could get up and iron some clothes.

Look at this from Wikipedia about The Miserable:

“The novel as a whole is quite lengthy by modern standards, exceeding fourteen hundred pages in unabridged English-language editions, and 1900 pages in French. It is considered one of the longest novels ever written.

“Hugo (the author) interrupts the narrative with lengthy digressions on religion, politics, and society, including discussions of cloistered religious orders, the construction of the Paris sewers, argot, the street urchins of Paris, and the Battle of Waterloo.”

I am so glad that the movie didn’t interrupt the narrative with lengthy digressions about sewers.  ‘Course, the Battle of Waterloo might have added some interesting action sequences to the film.

On the drive home, Stacey and her sister Sarah started telling bizarre stories from their childhood.  I stayed really, really quiet hoping they wouldn’t notice me while I took mental notes.  But after a few stories, Brandi finally burst in, “Stop!  Just stopJackie writes a blog.  You do not want everyone knowing these stories!”  They made me vow that everything said in the van, stays in the van.

Good going, Brandi, ruining all my fun.  If I hadn’t caved and vowed not to tell their stories, tonight’s blog would have been awesome.   So, guys, if you don’t like the blog tonight—it’s all Brandi’s fault.

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