Another movie, lazing about is the bomb

Saw The Wolf of Wall Street today and thought it was great. Better flow and less drag than American Hustle. Matthew McConaughey's slight bit was brilliant; seriously, I was mesmerized. Though not a diCaprio fan (do not even get me started on the monstrosity that was Titanic), he was terrific as Jordan Belfort. The intensity, the drugs, that insatiable appetite! I can't believe the real Belfort didn't die at some point, and to play him must have been exhausting. Margot Robbie is stunning and was terrific. Lady crush in the house.Quick dinner, last night's Real Time (welcome back, Bill!), and a serious curiosity about Mary Matalin, specifically what was wrong with her last night, and what was going on with her hair?!?! To bed!

The day o' the birth

Thanks to me, the boys, my in-laws and a vacation day from work, I think T had a terrific  birthday. He romped with the boys, devoured cinnamon rolls, mounted an enormously heavy vise on his work station in the garage, went to the gym, putzed, read, and lazed. We then spontaneously decided to see a matinee of American Hustle and then commenced the beer crawl at St. Arnold's on Jefferson.

It was hoppin' and I dare say we felt marginally old. I ordered two steins of brew and some frites (terrific frites sauce, St. A) as T maneuvered into a tiny spot we could share.

He was underwhelmed by American Hustle which I felt was further evidence for never reading reviews before seeing any film. I didn't think it was amazing either BUT I also didn't have outsized expectations based on the pomp and praise of critics I don't know. I just think going in blind, so the speak, makes for a purer viewing experience. The acting in AH was excellent but the story felt long and fairly ludicrous at times. I believe the film would have benefited from some tightening in focus. Christian Bale is a phenomenal actor. Truly, I think he and Daniel Day Lewis are absolutely incredible. Meryl Streep too.

Anyway, we headed off and walked over to B Too, another Belgian beer-heavy spot recommended by my friend, Kim, who still goes out as regularly and energetically as an 18 year old. Impressive. Thank you, Kim. At B Too, I moved to wine but T found a Belgian tripel he'd not yet tasted (this is getting to be a harder and harder feat) and we decided to have dinner. T ordered rabbit with prunes and onions while I opted for the beet salad with yogurt, pistachios and mint and then the Wafel van Kreeft, or lobster waffle.

Average food but a fun time. I had four spots planned, but when T said he'd had a great time and did I want to instead go home and put on PJs and watch a movie, I said amen, brother (boo hiss: I still feel fairly dreadful; headache was blazing by this point). I slept for nearly twelve hours and feel inordinately lucky to have about 36 hours left in the "off-duty" column. Think we'll see another movie today, and otherwise, I hope to be LA-ZY.

Things I'm letting go of...

including, hopefully soon, this profound ick I have going on. Bleck. If I even think about how queasy I feel, I get queasier. My tastebuds are a hot mess which is obviously a complete tragedy what with lemon curd in the fridge. Also, tomorrow is T's birthday, and I intend to make some magnificent dessert concoction: homemade Boston Cream Pie?? I have also planned a fabulous Belgian beer crawl for T tomorrow night (don't worry, he doesn't read this) and really think it will be more fun if I can imbibe with him. The cat is being profoundly high maintenance right now which is all the more irritating considering yesterday's ESCAPade. Not an hour after I recovered him, I got both boys packed in the car as I needed to drop J at an activity. No sooner do we arrive than I get a call from DC Public Health: "Percy was found on Mass Ave and is now with a neighbor. They would like him picked up very soon or he'll be transported to a shelter."

Mother of...Oliver and I scrammed home to bring back my second pet-break animal. I'm over the pets today, people. Over them.

But back to the things I'm letting go of.

For starters I have decided that I quit re: Jack's Legos. I have, four or five times, sorted thousands of them by shape: planks, skinny planks, bricks, wheels, people, landscaping... The first time was a wonderful way to avoid Thanksgiving. The second time may have been in a fit of hormonally-induced nesting. I can't recall if I spent any of my pneumonia tenure wading through the damn Legos, but enough is enough. He can sort them if he wants to. Otherwise, if he spends an hour stuck under the mountain of them that crashed down over him, maybe he'll rest. If he loses time and his hands go bloody digging through eight feet of them, well, perhaps he'll learn something. Then again, he might not give a rat's ass, and so now, neither do I. Even if that means I have to close my eyes when I look into his room.

Secondly, I have decided that I no longer care what the children choose to eat together, by which I mean at the same time. Yesterday for breakfast, Jack requested honey nut O's and milk with a side of garbanzo beans straight from the can. Meanwhile, Oliver likes to mix milk and seltzer. Both of these marriages make me want to puke, but if they're eating, I'm not going to say a word.

These probably seem enormously self-evident to y'all, but I say, two steps forward!