Saturday morning I got up and looked up movies. Sister Jen and I planned to see The Duchess on Saturday evening. We've been planning this for quite some time. Jen hinted that she might even have some sort of matching Duchess regalia for us to wear to the show. Which pleases me a great deal. I clapped my hands together real close to my face and grinned hard when I heard that, because...
I enjoy me some regalia.
And also, I'm pretty nerdy.
Jen and I read the book Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire a few years ago, and we both dug it. I love these history monographs that are part biography, part social history, part ye olde thyme 18th century tabloid. (I spelled time like that to sound more more old-timey, not herbal).
I read all the movie reviews, and they are not good. They complain that the movie ignores Georgiana's (Keira Knightley) political life and focuses on the steamy love quadrangle she gets into because her husband (Ralph Feinnes) is a no-fun, dog-breeding meany-face. Also, maybe she is a little bit slutty. In the book, you see she is a product of her corrupt environment, and so you determine that she isn't all slut and no substance. Unsurprisingly, though, Hollywood doesn't see her that way. But I was not dissuaded. Our date was still on.
But when I searched a 25 mile radius of my zip code for theaters showing Georgiana's big-screen, un-enhanced cleavage, nothing came up. So I widened my search. Then, I widened it again.
And, then, one more time.
Whew. Something came up.
We'll be going to see The Duchess at 8:00 pm.
At the Landmark Theater.
On Pico Boulevard.
In Los Angeles.
Jake tells me, "You'd best be on your way, then, if you are going to make the show."
So we flew into LAX about 5 pm and had time for a quick bite before the show...
Nah. We didn't. The Duchess regalia is just going to have to wait for the movie to go into wider release.
So then I broke the bad news to Jen, who was in shock and denial for a bit. Then she snapped out of it, as she is a pragmatic sort of girl, and she quickly took charge, and found us a double date with some foxy ladies.
Hillary and Nedra. Hillary says she reads my blog but she doesn't ever comment. Let's see if she does this time...(Only she has a three week old newborn, so maybe she isn't actually reading any blogs right this second? Oh well.)
We went to Cafe Luxe at Fashion Place in Scottsdale. Which is brought to you by the same people who brought you Cheesecake Factory. Only at Luxe, they don't just have cheesecake, they have doughnuts. Frenchy doughnuts.
But I'm getting ahead of myself.
Tasty things I've tried there: mushroom burger, chicken pot pie (Hillary wore a happy, glazed expression while she consumed her pie, which was big enough to feed 4 big, athletic men, or one small mama, plus Jen and Kelly), and shaking beef (Jen and I shared). All delicious. Nedra had a salad that looked a lot like the luau salad at Cheesecake, only I didn't even make eye contact with it, since I was busy making doe eyes at the pot pie.
We ordered beignets (doughnut-type pastries with three dipping sauces) and the chocolate molten cake. Both worth the drive to Scottsdale, by themselves.
Nedra had just finished a 10 day, 230 mile backpacking trip through the Sierra Nevadas, and hasn't eaten treats for a year. I think we scared her a little with our intensely amorous foodiness.
I don't know if she'll go out with me again. I wonder if my hearty appetite is what scared off all the boys back in my single days? I still haven't pinpointed the reason all the boys didn't beat down my door like my parents promised they would do. Lucky I was able to nab the smart and pretty Jake, with the very dry wit that makes me laugh and laugh, and who knows a wench with a lusty appetite is a good find.
This morning I went to Albertson's and bought lots of chicken ($1.77 a pound plus $5 off $20 Fresh and Easy coupon equals cheap poultry, like $1.35 a pound). I'm going to can it tomorrow.
When Tommy and I returned home, we watched a House Hunters episode where the family is looking for a vacation home in Curacao. The family's actual home is 6,000 squares on 5 acres with a ginormous pool and 500 feet of private waterfront with a dock in North Carolina. The Dad says, as the camera pans the ocean, "so you can see why we need to get away from it all." Seriously? You need to get away from it all? Which part, exactly, are you so desperate to get away from?
So I rewound that part, and watched it again. Cause I got nothing else to watch, yet.
And now, I sit here waiting for the mail to come and bring me my latest Ebay purchase, William Rast Savoy Wide Leg trousers in Princess wash (henceforth: WRSWLTP). And you might think that I have a little problem with discount designer denim. And you might be right. And you might think my poison is spreading to Shellie. And it is.
But, see, I fired the gardeners, mostly because they didn't come, even though we paid them, usually. And another gardener friend of ours hinted that our gardener was having wife troubles and hitting the bottle too hard, which is why he didn't show up. So now I am the gardener, which I hate. But the good news is this: I've been spending all the money that might have gone to the boozing horticulturalist, on ebay pants, used books on Amazon, and sunblock.
It is still 100 degrees out there, people! Somebody please call the Sonoran Desert and tell him that Autumn begins this week, and that he can dial it back just a bit. Thanks.
Also, I really needed the pants, because the old WRSWLTP I had were too big. I was over to the Albertson's last month, and as I reached long to grab some cheap meat (do you see a theme?), the old WRSWLTP fell down! To my knees! People! Is bad news!
The new ones are four sizes smaller. So. Is good news! Am now safe to go to Albertsons! Oh, wait. I already did. Couldn't wait for the pants. Needed to get chicken before cousin Melly got there and cleared the place out.
So that's it. That's all I got. Now must go fold some clothes and cook up some cheap chicken for dinner.