Singin' in the Rain

One of my favorite movies is Singin' in the Rain and it was on Turner Classic Movies last night, a fabulous station that shows fabulous old movies. It makes me wish I lived in the 20's and could wear cool flapper dresses and dance with Gene Kelly and sing like Debbie Reynolds. Growing up dancing, I'm not a hard sell when it comes to musicals, but I have to say, even my husband stopped to watch for a little while. Ahh musicals, making marriages stronger, one showtune at a time.

I wish there were more of them today - there's something to be said for escaping into a world where everything's in technicolor and problems are solved with a song and dance. The women are beautiful, without looking anorexic or hoochie-fied and say things like "honest". The men are dashing gentlemen who romance their ladies and say things like "By george, I think I've got it!". They're just so dreamy and happy and lovely. It does a girl's heart good to take time out of her day to watch one.

Don't get me wrong - I love the heavy stuff too. The Last King of Scotland was one of the best movies I saw last year. But it's nice every now and then to just escape. And I think Hollywood would be well-served to remember that. They put out all these heavy, dark, morality tales - some excellent, some not and I think we need more of the light-hearted stuff sometimes to let us escape and remind us that there is good in the world.

Stay tuned for my next blog entitled: "My Favorite Torture Scenes." :)

Hotel California

I've always sort of known that I'm more a hotel kind of girl than a pitch a tent kind of girl. More into room service than campfire cooking (though I do heart s'mores). A fan of big fluffy robes and not big hairy spiders in my tent...or bears....or anything big and hairy for that matter. More like Troop Beverly Hills than the Redfeathers. But this past week I finally really gave in - I always felt like I wanted to be one of those cool girls that could hike and camp out for days, but really, I'm just not. I love being outdoors, just not living there.

And the reason I gave in might have to do with me just being wise beyond my 27 years, but really I think it had a lot to do with staying at the Loews Santa Monica in CA this past week. A big king size bed with super soft sheets, that big fluffy robe, and a balcony that looked directly onto the beach, with the Santa Monica pier to the right. Oh, and all the little bottles of shampoo and lotion that smelled so good I wanted to eat them.

I think my first inkling of this though, might have come from a trip in high school I took with some friends to go white water rafting on the Ocoee. White water rafting = awesome. Camping in torrential downpours while holding up the center of the tent so it wouldn't fill up with water and collapse = memorable, but not awesome. And one of the funniest parts of that was when the huge bolt of lightning illuminated our tent around 2am or so and one of the guys we were with shrieked "Oh my God, we're gonna die!". That's right, these fellas we were with were not so much the outdoorsy, rugged type as the intellectual, chess-playing type. So the girls ended up pitching the tent ourselves. Good times. Girl power. It really is one of the best high school memories I have, despite the drama of it all.

So all this to say, bring on the 5 star, 500 count sheet, mint-on-my-pillow hotels, because this gal is ready to check in.