So, I haven't blogged in a hundred years (or, a week and a half) but that's because I've been busy. Busy feeling lots of feelings. Busy writing Groupon deals about fish pedicures and cider houses and laser hair treatments. Many of these deals happen in Canada, which means I've also been busy plotting my escape to Montreal, where I will read novels and eat biscotti in quaint cafes and I'll parle francais and be so very, very chic. I've also been busy celebrating the birth of Santa, which means I've been drinking egg nog, baking cookies, and snuggling with the cats. Basically the things I normally do, except I get to listen to more Mariah Carey than usual.
ANYWAY. The point is ... THE POINT IS, my waitressing shift was cut short today due to the fact that it's post-Jesus' birthday party, and everyone is hibernating in their homes because they're hungover and just gained 10 more pounds from all of the food they've been shoveling in their fat faces. So, I pocketed the whopping ten dollars earned from my five customers, and I took my exhausted ass home.
I had been daydreaming at work about watching an old movie in bed, cozied up with Layla and wearing my favorite sweatpants. And that is exactly what happened, Rainbow groupies!
I just watched "The Way We Were" for the first time.
Oh. Holy. Crap.
Where do I begin? Obviously I already knew all about it, because of this "Sex and the City" episode. ("Oh GAWD, Alison is talking about 'Sex and the City' AGAIN? What kind of feminist IS SHE?" SHUT UP. It's my thing. I love it. Moving on.)
But how could I have known just how incredible Barbra Streisand was as Katie? She has big, big hair and is political and wants to save the world. She has embarrassing, loud, emotional outbursts at parties when people make stupid jokes. She has long, bright red nails and books scattered all over her apartment. And she is completely, batshit crazy in love with this dude named Hubble.
Now, since I know you're all going to pull up Netflix to find this movie (when you're done reading this, of course, because you're not a jerk), you are in luck. Watch instantly. Observe how Barbra Streisand constantly looks at Robert Redford like she wants to take a big bite out of him. (Like right here.) I mean, of course she does. HE'S ROBERT FUCKING REDFORD. Did you see him? Let's take another look, shall we?
I love it. I love staring at Robert Redford's face and his annoyingly gorgeous blonde hair for an hour and 58 minutes. I love watching Barbra Streisand shriek, "Her husband is DEAD! DEAD! Did you tell the cripple jokes too? Is there anything that isn't a joke to you people?!" (and then throws back a martini while Hubble shuffles his newspaper, embarrassed). I love watching a movie where the couple doesn't end up happily ever after. ("Why did you bring me here? I mean, couldn't we have gone for a walk or sit on a bench somewhere?") Oh, Katie. I feel ya, girl.
Except, umm, you guys? Just cause your marriage failed because Hubble's sort of a philistine and Katie feels too many feelings, does that really mean Hubble just quits the idea of being a dad to their daughter Rachel? C'mon, you two. I think you can put the complicated feelings to the side for the kid's sake. At the end of the movie, when he's with his stupid looking new wife who can't hold a candle to Barbra Streisand's huge-ass hair and gorgeous cat eyes, he asks if Katie's new husband is a good father. Um, NOT GOOD ENOUGH, you gorgeous, shallow moron. You better be using the money from your stupid TV show for child support, cheater. Now go finish your fucking novel, Hubble. You can't ride on those good looks forevvah.
Okay! That's it! I feel better now.
Fine. NOW you do:
Okay, I think I have to stare at young Robert Redford some more.
I'll be sure to let you all know how it goes.