Tuesday? Nooooo, not Tuesday! Anything but Tuesday!

Well, will you look at that.  Is that what I think it is?  Oh, yes it is.  It’s a Razzleberry pie.  Creepy old chef with the rheumy eyes from The Shining came through.  Or maybe Darling Husband came through.  Either way, by the time I’m done writing this blog it will be baked and ready to serve.

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I suppose those of you who know me might have wondered what possessed me (excuse the pun) to watch The Shining.

I’m kinda wondering what possessed me to watch The Shining as well.  I don’t do so well with scary movies.  In fact, they tend to torment me for years afterward.  I’ve written about it before so I won’t bother writing about it again.

What happened was that a friend mentioned something along the lines of how watching The Shining as a parent was different from watching before having children.  I asked what he meant being that I’ve never seen it.  He said, “Just watch it and see.”

So I did.

In silence.

No, I wasn’t the one being silent.  I watched the movie with the volume turned almost completely down.  We all know that scary movies aren’t scary without their soundtrack.  Consider this:

There’s little Danny riding his big wheel around and around the corners of the hallways in the empty hotel.  You know, you just know, that the ghosty girls are going to show up around the next corner asking for their playdate.  Then, just when you can hardly stand the suspense, the music lets out a big screech, the screen goes completely black and the word TUESDAY appears in big white letters and I swear, it makes you squawk in horror:  No, not Tuesday!  Anything but Tuesday!  Ahhhhh!

And then again on THURSDAY.  Oh, just stop!  My poor frayed nerves just can’t handle this.  That’s when I turned down the volume.

The thing is, nothing was happening.  Nothing at all.  Just this little kid riding around on his big wheel or some guy typing at a typewriter.  It’s all about the suspenseful music and loud crescendos.

But I understand what Victor meant.  As a parent you wanted to scoop little Danny up in your arms and say, “There, there, it’ll be ok.”  And they put him in the most adorable little outfits.  Mickey Mouse sweaters with little plaid shirts and red sneakers.  Oh, those red sneakers.  Adorable.  I even felt sorry for the creepy ghosty girls.  Poor little dead things.

Anyway, now I finally understand why Scott took one look at the typewriter in my living room and gleefully typed, “All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy” over and over and over.  And if he does it again, I’m kicking him out immediately.  Don’t be making my innocent typewriter act all creepy like that.

Maybe it’s because I don’t watch many scary movies but this one has stuck with me and not just because I can’t walk around the house alone anymore.  Mostly I’m just trying to figure out what it all meant.  Apparently, no one can figure out what it all meant, because Victor then told me to watch the documentary which tries to figure out what it all meant.

But I’m not taking Victor’s recommendations for movies anymore, so I guess I’ll never know.

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Practicing with my new lens:

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Home Alone and The Shining

For the most part, I’ve been ok after watching The Shining last week.  Until tonight.

Until tonight when Darling Husband headed off to watch a Doctor Who special with friends and I stayed home with the kids.   Everything was perfectly fine until I put them to bed and had to come downstairs alone after dark.

And now I’m feeling a little shivery.

When I get scared I try to break down exactly what the fear is and carry it to its furthest conclusion to see if it really warrants feeling the fear.  If I apply such cold logic to my fear, maybe it will go away.  No, it’s never worked so far, but I keep trying.

Ok, so let’s say that the ghosty twins appear right now!  (Aaahhhh!)  No, no—stay calm.

Let’s say they appear right now.  What would happen?  Well, in the movie, they just stood there holding hands and asking to play.  Later they were lying around in the hallway hacked up by an ax and covered in blood.  But beyond asking for a playdate and lying around all hacked up, they didn’t do much of anything.

Counterattack to the ghosty twins:  Don’t agree to a playdate and slowly edge away.  And uh…well, I guess that’s it.  Whenever Danny didn’t talk to them, they just sort of wandered off.

Fear of the twins–laid to rest.  (Laid to rest… in a bloody hallway, aaaahhhh!  No, no—stop.  Just stop.)

Next scary scene:  an old African American man with rheumy eyes will give a tour of the kitchen but while he’s talking to everyone, he’ll speak directly into my mind offering me ice cream and then give a smile that’s hard to read.  I don’t want anyone speaking directly into my mind offering ice cream.  I don’t much like ice cream.  Now if you want to offer me some razzleberry pie, I’m all for that.

Counterattack:  ~Do you want ice cream?~  ~No, thank you. But some razzleberry pie would be nice.~  See?  Easy peasy.

Next—Naked Young-Old Woman with a skin condition.  This one is a bit of a problem because I had my eyes almost entirely closed through this scene so I sort of missed what happened exactly.  But from what I saw with my eyes barely opened, Jack Nicholson kissed Naked Young Woman and then noticed in the mirror that she changed into Naked Old Woman with a skin condition.  She cackled at him, but he just ran away.

Counterattack:  Do not startle naked women from their baths and most certainly do not kiss naked women.  And if a naked young woman morphs into a cackling old woman with a skin condition, run away.

Oh, wait.  There was also that scary bit when Naked Young-Old Woman scratched Danny’s neck.  But Danny was only 6 years old and was probably a slow runner.  Even then, slow Danny managed to get away with just a scratch, so I’m sure I’ll be fine.

The last fear:  Jack Nicholson doesn’t want to hurt anyone, he only wants to bash them in the head, and he chases everyone with an ax around an empty hotel.

This is a tough one.  I don’t have a maze in my backyard or any snow, so I have no way to defeat crazy Jack Nicholson and his ax.

Dang it!

And, thus, I’m home alone feeling kinda creeped out.

Portrait Lens Practice

Yes, I’ve been gone forever.  No, I won’t tell you why.  If I tell you why I won’t have any new material for posts over the next few weeks.  Let’s just say, “I’ve been busy.”

But, I’ll tell you this: I got a brand new portrait lens a couple of weeks ago.  Oooo!  Portrait lens!

What’s a portrait lens?

It makes the thing you focus on crisp and clear, but anything in front of or behind what you’re focused on is super out of focus.  Great for pictures of people’s faces because then the only thing you notice in the picture is the face.  Hence—portrait lens.

As of 9:30 tonight my busy month came to a close.  About 30 minutes later I was itching to take some pictures with my new lens.  I’ve been so busy I haven’t even had a chance to take pictures for a month.  That’s pretty busy.   Well, wait, that’s not completely true.  I did take some prom pictures. Here’s one:

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But that was different.  That was work for someone else.  (And they paid me!)  Now that my busy month is over I can get back to puttering around taking pictures for myself.

So I pulled out the portrait lens and the kids ran for cover.  “Oh, we’re soooo tired!  Can we go to bed now?  Yaaaaaawn!”  I turned to Darling Husband, but he gave me the evil eye.  (He’s in his jammies.)

I’m forced to practice on these model airplanes that are hanging from the dining room chandelier.  And yes, I’ve bumped my head into these stinkin’ planes a number of times this month.  Makes me feel the tiniest bit sympathetic to my tall guests who bump into the chandeliers whenever they visit.  But only the tiniest bit.

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Not too shabby, little portrait lens.  Not too shabby.

P.S.  I promise to tell you later about the cheese that got in my eye, the million legger that almost ate my mother, and watching The Shining all alone at midnight (bad idea).