We chose to see Premonitionover some movie that starred Selma Hayek and Penelope Cruz as Mexican outlaws because we thought that might be a little stupid.

It could not have been stupider than Premonition.  For starters, Sandra Bullock’s character doesn’t actually have premonitions.  She’s having some kind of problem where her experience of time is all out of joint.  I don’t know what the word for that is, but it is not “premonition.”

Second, the whole premise of the movie rests on the idea that Bullock’s character and her husband are in some sort of marital doldrums and that he’s actually considering cheating on her.  And yet, the marriage that they show us is on the happy side of ordinary.  Granted, her husband is played by Julian McDudefromCharmed, so maybe he’s still wrestling with being half demon, I don’t know.  But his cheating on his wife made no sense based on the marriage they showed us.

Also, if there are people in the world who wear different pajamas every night, I have not slept with them.

And and, the movie appeared to be made by people who’ve never actually lived through a tragedy.  In the movie, Bullock’s character’s mom has her committed the night of her husband’s funeral because she seems distraught and slightly crazed.  Well, I ask you, America, who does not seem distraught and slightly crazed when they lose a beloved husband?

AND and and, the reward Bullock’s character gets for suffering through all this nonsense is that she gets pregnant.

Now, please, I know kids are wonderful, but there’s something really disgusting about the idea that your beloved husband can just be swapped out for a baby and it’s all good.  Baby as consolation prize is just… well, kind of gross.

Worse yet, we watched the special features, which were howlingly funny as apparently everyone is under the false impression that they made a good movie.

I am having a “monition” right now that they are wrong, very wrong.

A New Home for the Tiny Cat

As you all may remember, the tiny cat is not really all that excited about the size of the world.  She’ll pick a place to live–like wedged between the window and the bookcase–and that’s pretty much where she’ll hang out until she finds a better place to live.

She spends most of the winter in my room wedged as described above.  This summer has been more difficult for her.  For a while she was living on top of the dryer.  Then she seemed to try out living right next to her food bowl.  For a couple of days, she lived under the sink.

Lately, she’s been living on the Butcher’s golf clubs.

It can’t be comfortable, but the golf clubs have lasted longer than under the sink as an acceptable dwelling.