Not much to post here today. Spent the day after my birthday doing all the things I didn't do yesterday. That is to say, there was lots of food prep, bum wiping and never ending laundry. But I spent a lovely evening out at dinner with my Hubs and then topped it off with a movie. We went and saw Les Miserables, which if you like either costume dramas or musicals you should definitely go and see. I was a big fan of this particular musical in my teen years (totally wore out my cassette tape of the Broadway version) and Eponine's "On My Own" was the theme song to my sad, unrequited-love filled (or should I say 'emptied') adolescence. I was very careful not to sing along in the movie theatre. Because I hate it when people do that. But I was singing in my head the whole time. Also, I have a headache now from quiet-crying through I'd say a good 8th of the whole thing. I'd hate to sob and disturb the people around me (plus also, I'm not a pretty crier) so the effort of holding it all in, with a handkercheif pressed against my lips and that awful shaky-ness in your rib cage every time you inhale under your tightly crossed arms has me just exhausted. Plus that whole catharsis thing. Though I have to say, there were a LOT of close-up shots in that movie, and after two hours of basically sitting what feels like three inches away from Hugh Jackman's giant singing face I feel like I know his pores on a first name basis. It was that close. Don't get me wrong, it was good, but just... intense. Also, I'll be very surprised if Anne Hathaway does not get an Oscar.
Oh, and on a side note, do you ever take you're shoes off in a movies theater? Yeah, I hope you are shaking your head "no" right now. When we sat down this evening (in our assigned seats, because it was some special kind of theater where you were assigned your seats when you bought your tickets, and then you are charged three bucks extra for that honour. Bah.) I turned to Hubs and said "What's that smell?" He of course said "Don't ask me" because he's been congested for about a month and can not smell very acutely at the best of times. But instead of the pleasant odour of popcorn and light industrial disinfectant that movie theaters usually smell of, there was a distinctly, well, cheesy smell. And not like a good cheese, but an old, left out overnight beside the heating vent cheese. I kept saying to him "It smells like feet I think?" And he kept rolling his eyes at me. Anyhow, about ten minutes from the end of the movie, the lady two seats down from me, picks up her white, standard issue nurse-style Reeboks and starts lacing them up. At which point I poked Hubs and pointed surreptitiously in her direction so he could see that I was not crazy. Because THAT lady was CRAZY. Honestly, who takes of their shoes in a movies theater? Sheesh.