Gone With the Wind was on TCM last night, did you watch it? I did. I thought I'd tune in to that movie for once, see what it was all about. Am I the only person who watches a movie 496 times like that? I watched it TWO TIMES IN A ROW the day before Thanksgiving, while I was getting ready.
I also texted my Aunt Kathy, who was the person who first dragged me to see it when I was 11. I had no idea what it was gonna be about; I thought it was set in the '60s. And, I mean, it was. The 1860s, but still. Anyway. The part where Mammy says, "Just like a spider" is still the very best part.
Mammy was the best. I totally need a Mammy to tell me what's best for me all the time. "Come on in the house before you catch your death of dampness." Death of dampness. Oh, it kills me.
Anyway. Watched it. Continued to abhor Ashley and his red taffeta petticoat. Continued to watch Ashley scrub his vagina throughout the whole movie. Continued to wonder why Ashley didn't lie down for a midafternoon nap along with the rest of the girls. "Oh, we're having brandy in the drawing room and talking about war? Say, are there any wine coolers?"
Ashley and his jaunty fringe belt that Scarlett makes for him. Even though she loves him, she subconsciously knows the score. Let's see. What would Ashley like to take back with him to war? A book of poems? Pomade for his 'do? Yes, yes, all those things, but oh! How about a gold fringy belt he can sling around his hips like a hoochie-goochie girl? He'd adore that.
On days I get off on a GWTW tangent, do you want to smack me like I'm Prissy?
Part of the reason I had all night to watch a four-hour movie is because my DVD player isn't working. And by "isn't working," I mean I didn't bring the right remote with me, and Ima have to go to Ned's to get the right one and I keep putting that off, as you can imagine. So the other night in a fit on ingenuity I put my Tracy Chapman DVD in my computer, and I've been doing her back here on the cold tile floor, but now for some reason my computer is saying there's an error and now I can't even eject the damn thing.
It's times like this I wish I had a man around, and I did call Marty Martin, which I just typed "Marty Marvin" and allegedly he's gonna come help me with all this. Allegedly.
But the point is, since I couldn't work out, I did all my laundry and hung it all up with my new pink velvet hangers I bought (I don't know how I managed to not move enough hangers) and put all my shoes together (I'd had them all in a big "Here's where I threw them" pile that was delightful) and so on. Then I'm sorry to tell you I did three months of finding the hidden picture.
My mother got me, for Xmas, a Highlights Magazine calendar that's all Find the Hidden Object. So I opened up one month and started finding all the damn bananas and kites and snakes and so on and next thing you know I was in April already so I stopped. Then my movie came on. So. Quite an evening.
I think it's nice that Barack Obama can go to the public pool without much fuss. Swim under a bowl of salad.
I leave you with cute pictures of my pets, for a change. This morning I cleaned up THREE puddles of Tallulah pee from the back room. I am worried about my girl. My Pee Willie Winky.
Talk at you.
Love,
Belle Watling