This past week or so has been a bizarre combination of mania and relaxing.  The manic part I’m used to… the relaxing is something that is very new to me, and I’m actually having a difficult time adjusting to it.

Last week, my ex-husband flew into town from Kansas to fetch my little Sully and take him back to Kansas with him for the summer.  The ex stayed at our house for a couple days so that Sully and I could show him around where we live.  It was weird having him here- but we’re at a place now where we get along quite smashingly (which took a lot of time and work to get to this place).  I think that Sully was feeling guilt for enjoying where he lives with me and Brad because he knows his dad misses him… but his dad was so blown away by how nice the weather and our surroundings are, and had nothing but glowing reviews of everything we saw that Sully’s attitude changed almost overnight and he is now PROUD of where he lives.  Sully and I took Nic (his dad) to the tide pools, nature trails, swimming at the beach and to a few of the great restaurants around our house- and much fun was had by all.

Then I put the both of them on a plane…. and came home to an empty house for the first time in 10 years.  Brad was on tour- so it was just me and the cats.  I kindof flipped out.  Scrubbed down the house, rearranged furniture, paced around alot, played music really loud to drown out the empty quiet, and got really sad.  Granted, I KNOW how much I need the break.  I need to get some rest and be able to focus on work… but for 10 years it’s been “Me & Sully Against the World”, and I’m not sure what to do without my little sidekick.  All my friends tell me it’s a really good thing because Sully and I are WAY too clingy and attached to each other, and Brad is thrilled at the idea that him and I can actually experience being a couple-without-a-child for the first time in our relationship.  I’m excited about that aspect of it too… but I miss my little high-maintenance-monkey.  Lots.

That being said, Brad and I went on a “date” last night.  Dinner at his parent’s house and then to the movies.  Normally, going out is a very expensive ordeal for us.  $25 for a babysitter, $25 for the movies, and another $20 if we want to have dinner somewhere.  $60-$80 each time we want to leave the house together is a big price to pay (especially since I’m totally broke from my clothing line being SO FUCKING LATE getting made… yes… I’m STILL waiting for it to get done).  But last night, Brad took me to go and see the movie “Hancock” because of my love for Will Smith.  I’ve been excited about this movie ever since I saw the preview for it last month… I actually made a squeeling-sound in the theater when I first saw that preview.  Will Smith in a SUPERHERO movie!!!!  I’m a nerd and LOOOVVVEEE superhero flicks.  What could be better??

I left the theater last night in a rage. When the credits started rolling I jumped up and pushed my way out through the sea of people screaming about how I should hunt down the shitbags who tainted my love of Will Smith and force feed them copy after copy of that horrible excuse for entertainment- Brad trailing behind me laughing at my hate-filed hysteria.  Somehow, they took what COULD have been a hilarious action-packed Will Smith gem into a sappy chick-flick waste of time with a bullshit plot and the worst dialog that I’ve ever witnessed.  Rarely have I ever wanted to leave in the middle of a movie- but it took everything I had not to bail on this movie half-way through.  It was so bad, that I lost hope that “maybe it will get better” within the first 30 minutes.  Brad was laughing at me through the whole thing- watching my face go from excited, to confused, to annoyed, to mad, and then to blind fury as the movie progressed.  I think my “final straw” was at the end of the movie, when I jumped up and was trying to get out of there as quickly as I could so as not to throw a tantrum over the fact I just wasted 2 hours of my life… there were people who were actually CLAPPING because they loved the movie so much.  CLAPPING!!!! I lost my shit.  Screaming back to Brad as he was trying to keep up with my frenzied storming out of the theater that I would rather be gunned down in the street than have to share the air I breathe with a society of people so ignorant that they will happily swallow that vomitous pile of bile and accept it as entertainment.

Yes… it was that bad.  And we paid $25 to see it.  $25 and 2 hours of my life… neither of which there is a refund.  And the glorified light that I lovingly placed Will Smith in is now horribly tainted.  Why, Will?  Are you so rich now that you just don’t care what movies you agree to do anymore?  Don’t you know that it doesn’t have to be this way? You can be obscenely wealthy and still maintain your integrity by chosing GOOD movies to be a part of?  Why, Will?  WHY?

He will not be able to make up for this one in my eyes.

Will, you broke my heart.  And you owe me $25.