Movie Weekend

Sorry all–this was a movie weekend for us, and since I’m also prepping for RWA, well, blogging got thrown out the wayside.We saw Tarzan–and really enjoyed it.

Yes, I know, there are people who are going to complain that it was just eye-candy, and that Margot Robbie’s American accent was exceedingly modern, and that Samuel L. Jackson was… well, Samuel L. Jackson–awesome, but distinctly himself.

To which I respond with an enthusiastic, “Yes! Yes! Yes! All the things! The good and the bad things! The half-naked blond guy swinging through the trees things! The chemistry between the man and the woman without a chance of slash1  Yes! I was well and truly entertained, and I am not ashamed!”

Or something like that. Anyway, uh, you know. Liked the movie. Had a great time. Popcorn!  *nom nom nom nom*

We also saw The Secret Life of Pets, which was also highly entertaining. Mate and I decided that the best part about it was the secret love notes it posted to pet owners everywhere.  It was really a love story between owners and their pets, and I know enough of us are besotted by our fur babies to really appreciate something like that.

We also had a soccer clinic, which was sort of fun. The kids ran around for two hours and I got to sit and watch Mate be regal and club-presidential, which was nice. He’s really good at making families feel like this is an okay investment into their time–very balanced. (I may be biased. He IS my Mate!)

And now? Work. Work work work.  I’m leaving for San Diego at crotch-o-dawn on Tuesday, my trusty Mate by my side, who will help me drive without losing complete grasp of reality.  I’m driving home on Sunday, with Karen Rose as my copilot, and I have to say, between Mate and Karen, I couldn’t ask for better company.

But, uh, I may be a little thin on the blogging.

Forgive me–but I swear I’ll collect con stories for you for when I get back.

So, I’ll probably blog tomorrow, but if now, those of you who have been here for a while will know where I’ll be.

If you guessed running around the house screaming, “WHERE THE HELL IS MY THING?” while the dogs cower and the spouse laughed, you’d be right.

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