We're a little under the weather here at Hot Water Bath. It seems that the Boy Wonder's snurgliness has been passed onto the rest of the family. He's such a good sharer. In any case, things moved a bit slower this weekend than I had hoped and not too much was accomplished. We more or less just hung out and enjoyed each other's company. Even though the to-do list was not impacted much, it was still a very satisfying time.


Last night we put the entire first floor of the house in disarray in preparation for the arrival of the new (to us) china cabinet. Its acquisition requires the shifting and moving of several other pieces (all old and heavy) and, as a result, drawers are spread out all over, their contents shifted through (I'm taking the opportunity to clean out the drawers), chairs are placed willy nilly in an effort to keep them out of the way and there are random piles of paper that have been shifted from their usual non-random (although equally disordered) locations. I despise this kind of upheaval - I find it deeply unsettling and am unable to relax in a chaotic room - and wish to every supreme being who might be paying attention that this gets put to rights soon. So far, the Little Diva and I have been hiding out upstairs in an effort to avoid the mess. Then there's the matter of my husband's sore shoulder. We're not done with this saga and he swears that some deep, horrible injury has occured. He threatened this morning to not work toward finishing the job until he could secure the opinion of one of his orthopedic surgeon friends - all of whom are out of town for two weeks at a conference. My non-medical opinion? He'll be hurt a lot worse if it takes more than (or even) two weeks to get the house back in order and it won't necessarily be an orthopedic injury.


Later this week we're beginning the first in an occasional series of Bad Movie Fridays. The idea is that we'll invite people over for drinks and snacks and watch (as much as we care to) a movie that is widely considered, well, bad. Although we intend to delve fully into the history of bad film, we decided to inaugurate the series with a bad movie of very recent vintage: Gigli. Yes, really. I figure with the appropriate medicinal application of margaritas, some prophylactic queso dip and the right company, the Bennifer debacle might even be considered entertaining.


Of course, the very concept of "bad" requires some deliberation and those who accept this first invitation will be invited to join the debate. Does "bad" mean panned by critics (as the aforementioned Gigli)? Does it mean boffo box office the first week and nada thereafter (a la the second Charlie's Angels)? Does it mean movies that are actually financially successful but that are wretched nonetheless (Titanic...d-d-d-don't d-d-die R-r-rose)? What about movies like Waterworld which, I believe, fulfills all three categories? Actually, I have a feeling that anything with Kevin Costner after that Wolves one might qualify. Then again, there's always Keanu Reeves for reliable badness (cute though he may be and that Matrix stuff - which I've not seen - notwithstanding).