What I learned at the movies: Never check into motels.

I'm annoyed that I can't get the archives to work, and since I'm on a dial-up it's taking me forever to do anything, so if it's OK with you I'll put off figuring out all that garbage until I'm back in Saskatoonland.

I went to see Rob Zombie's The Devil's Rejects this evening. It was considerably better than House of 1000 Corpses. In addition to not having annoying teens who deserved to die, it was lovely to look at: washed-out colors, creepy metal facemasks, gratuitous - though appreciated - shower scene, and PJ Soles! Sure, she only had a half-dozen lines and I didn't even realize it was her until I saw the closing credits, but ... PJ Soles! I like to imagine that the "P" is for "Peaches". And that she's married to me. And that we make lots of babies, but then they mysteriously disappear and we have to make them all over again. And that she's not, like, 50 years old or whatever she is now.

Which reminds me:

It was my mom's birthday today, as well as her first day back after my sister's wedding and her week in NYC. This of course meant that she wasn't taking any calls and I had to lie to her friends and relatives alike. I felt bad lying to my auntie, but I was already feeling bad for not going over to her place yesterday for raspberries. In my [admittedly weak] defense, I had a lot of laundry to do and I'm always conscious of my poor Ukrainian and the possibility of stopping a conversation dead in its tracks at any moment. I imagine the poor Ukrainian hurts her ears, much like my dad's poor Ukrainian hurt my ears.

Which reminds me:

I had a dream that my sister was getting re-married to her husband; the first wedding went so well, why not do it again? The buffet was awesome (again). Then I was conscripted into dancing, but somehow got out of it. That was pretty cool (hey, one wedding's worth of dances is enough). Then Colleen and her sister were there, and I almost made out with her sister. That was pretty inappropriate (and thus hot). Then I told my dad that it hurts my feelings when he teases me about being in school for so long. That was pretty emotional (I cried). Then I woke up and used a leather belt to lash myself as punishment for being such a sissy. Or at least I wanted to. Instead, for my punishment I ate an ice cream bar, which in a really, really, really convoluted sense is a punishment, but it still counts, dammit.

Which reminds me:

It's 3:17 a.m. and I should go to sleep.