You, Me, and the Sea: Nine Years and Counting

So, why You, Me, and the Sea?  Obviously, because it rhymes with Owen Wilson's, You, Me, and Dupree!  Which makes even less sense than "sea" unless Dupree equals Van Gogh, Hokusai's The Waves being the inspiration for Starry Night.

For our ninth wedding anniversary, which was yesterday, the husband suggested going to see Beyond Van Gogh: The Immersive Experience.  A traveling exhibit, it had landed just miles away in Atlantic City at the Hard Rock Casino, so it seemed like a fun, local option.  Yet at first I was like, I don't know.  With COVID still looming large, going to a casino seemed dicey.  And yet, I was wavering.  The husband is a huge Van Gogh fan, and I like him too.  Also, an "immersive experience," whatever that was, seemed intriguing.  Finally, we'd marked our last two anniversaries with takeout.  Maybe it was time for a risk.        

So I ordered the tickets, and we embarked upon our day of, as the husband put it, "culture and COVID."  It goes without saying that we had a wonderful time, as evidenced by this pic of us posed at the café table in the gift shop.  An older couple took it for us after asking us to take one of them.  And yes, we whipped off our masks for the second or so it took to "click."  Like I said, risk ruled the day.

The first part of the exhibit was a room filled with texts about Van Gogh's life interspersed with empty picture frames for photo ops.  But the main event was an enormous room, which was first superimposed with Van Gogh's self portraits.  This was probably the most iconic, and my favorite:  

In some portraits he looked angry, in others old, and, yes, in one his head was bandaged because he'd cut off his ear.  Yet although his faces were both magnificent and haunting, part of me was wondering, is this it?  Then the colors shifted, filling the entire room, floor and all, with a breathtaking landscape.  I actually gasped, causing a teen sitting on the floor to shoot me a dirty look.  I scooted away, not wanting her to harsh my mellow. 

This painting and the many that followed jibed with one of my favorite blurbs from the previous room about Van Gogh's gift for making the ordinary extraordinary:

Not surprisingly, I liked the sunflowers best of all:

And then, of course, there was Starry Night.  Painted from Van Gogh's view from his room in the asylum, it epitomizes finding light in the dark:

People always think of Van Gogh as the crazy guy who cut off his ear and eventually took his own life, but Beyond Van Gogh shows us a hopeful, sensitive artist who never stopped believing in the power of his vision.  And that's beautiful.  

As is this pic of the husband at the entrance -- yes, playing up the auricular angle.  Check out that crazy casino carpet!  

This wouldn't be a Tote Trove post if I didn't 1) show off my gift shop buy (a scrunchie!) and 2) expound upon my outfit.  As we were leaving the immersion room, the docent (not sure if that's the right word for a casino showing, but whatevs) stopped me and asked, "Did you wear that sunflower barrette just for today?"  I nodded.  "And the dress, too?"  Again, I confirmed.  She smiled and then said, "Thank you."  I was a little embarrassed but nonetheless pleased.  

Necklace: The Tote Trove; Sunglasses: Party City; Flower clip: The Tote Trove; Bangles: B Fabulous; Ring: Mixit, JCPenney

Dress: So, Kohl's; Bag: Dancing Days, Banned, Modcloth

Flipflops: Katy Perry Collection (they smell like pineapples!)

Even after we left the Hard Rock, there was one more piece of art to see.  I was absolutely delighted by this colorful food hut, which I caught outside the window as we exited the city:

On the way home, we stopped for an outdoor meal at this blessedly deserted spot, followed by dessert at Rita's:

It was a lovely nine-year anniversary celebration, not to mention a lovely nine years.  

And maybe Van Gogh is a little bit like Dupree after all.  Misunderstood but following the beat of his own brilliant drum, riding Hokusai's waves out to sea.

Sunflowers snapped at the farm stand a couple of Sundays ago.

Hang Ten: Surf's Up, Santa Jaws

Top: Rampage, Macy's
Skirt: Decree, JCPenney
Shoes: Delicious, Zulily
Bag: Modcloth
Sunglasses: Michaels

Clover and Blueberry Gem Earrings 

Circle Gets the Square Sparkle Earrings 

Grape and Orange Gem Earrings

Originally, I was going to post just five pairs of embellished oval earrings, making for a dangling, dazzling display of (ahem) deca-dence.  Then these Christmas balls (lower right; you can barely see them, but trust me, they're there) muscled their way in, shouting, "Make way for Santa!  Summer's over, you beach bum bottom feeders!"  So, six pairs it is, for a total of twelve twinkling trinkets spread across a Rampage top that cavalierly commands, "Never Stop Shopping."

Such is the force of Black Friday, butting into the quaint, quiet harvest holiday that is Thanksgiving before the turkey's even cold, like some buttinsky uncle shooting peas at Grandma from the wobbly chair at the kids' table.  Not that I was without my own (metaphorical) veggie grenade.  I was out there with the crazy shoppers, although my mission began at the crack of noon instead of midnight.  Bargains were snagged, gift lists were hatched, and, despite my aforesaid snarkiness, I found myself caught up in the excitement of the season.  So much so that I popped back into Marshalls the following Monday to check on some pastel potted cacti with happy faces (which were, in my mind, earmarked for my Arizona room, a.k.a. sunroom-slash-office.  Hey, houses need presents, too.)  But, alas, when I reached their perch between the candied orange peel and metallic gold deer heads, only one was still waiting for me.  Which was no surprise, cacti being, like Hansel, "so hot right now."  Besides, this was what-will-you-find-today-Marshalls, not the Smiley Succulent Emporium.  Although come to think of it, a store like that's not a bad idea.  Except it should be called Oren's Oasis, with Oren as a saguaro cactus wearing a cowboy hat and a rakish grin.  Both on the sign and in costume.  Now, who has the gravitas and comedic chops that such a complex role demands?

I'd better start saving up to pay Owen Wilson.

Movie Moment: Midnight in Paris

Stories about writers have always interested me. That's why I liked Midnight in Paris. Woody Allen's latest is about Gil (Owen Wilson), a successful Hollywood screenwriter who longs to chuck it all to move to Paris and finish his novel, a tale about a man who runs a nostalgia shop. By contrast, Gil's fiance Inez (Rachel McAdams) is a status-obsessed shrew intent on impressing her former professor, Paul (Michael Sheen), an irritating know-it-all who, along with his wife, all but crashes the young couple's vacation.

So, Gil is frustrated. By his career, by Inez, and by Inez's snooty parents. He feels like his dreams are slipping away, and that the charming and sympathetic artist's haven that is Paris is the only force that can keep them within his grasp. So he walks, alone at night under the stars, and unlocks a world so inspiring that his writing takes on a whole new dimension.

I won't say more than that, except that the setting is beautiful and the supporting roles of Marion Cotillard, Kathy Bates, and Adrien Brody superb. That and that it's the kind of fanciful, hopeful movie that makes you think life doesn't have to be a compromise, that you can have what you want and never grow up if you learn to appreciate the moment.

Movie Moment: Hall Pass

This weekend the bf and I saw Hall Pass. It'd already been dropped from one theater and shunted to a small screening room in another, so I knew we had to act before it disappeared into the land of On Demand. Is it me, or do movies seem to move on at warp speed these days?

Anyway, I've set forth a nice little challenge for myself for this review. I'm not going to spoil the ending! I'll say here and now that this decision may mess with my formula, resulting in an unbalanced and lackluster write-up. But I'm willing to risk that if you're still willing to read it.

So, Hall Pass. We've got two couples: Rick and Maggie (Owen Wilson and Jenna Fischer) and Fred and Grace (Jason Sudeikis and Christina Applegate). As I'm sure you know, the wives are sick of their husbands gawking at other women, so they follow the advice of their psychologist friend (Joy Behar) and issue them hall passes - one week off from marriage, no questions asked. Even in light of this questionable proposition, Rick and Maggie are established early on as the moral compass, whereas Fred and Grace represent more of the "what if?" factor. The men inaugurate their week of freedom with a pig-out dinner at Applebee's, slowly working their way up to a golf course, a coffee house, and a gym, attempting the bar scene only on the last night when their notorious bachelor buddy (a really scary-looking Richard Jenkins) rolls back into town. Maggie and Grace, on the other hand, spend the week at Maggie's parents' beach house, where they are hit on by a college baseball coach and player, respectively, without so much as batting an eyelash, proving, of course, what most of us already know - that it's much easier for a woman, married or otherwise, to find a date than it is for man (regardless of how lecherous that man may be).

That having been said, Hall Pass offers a few plot twists and some sweet surprises. That's not to say that it doesn't serve up its share of gratuitous gross-outs. (It doesn't come from the Farrelly Brothers for nothing.) As for the characters, Wilson is unexpectedly and endearingly nerdy as family man/realtor Rick, and Fischer slips comfortably into the nice girl role that made her famous as Pam on "The Office." Sudeikis's Fred is the typical tries-to-get-away-with-as-much-as-he-can best bud, albeit not exactly lovable. At one point he tells Rick that women in general and their wives in particular get to live their dreams, whereas men don't, phrasing it something like this: "Maggie used to play house as a kid, right? So, you bought her a house. She used to play kitchen; you bought her a Viking (stove). She wanted to be a mommy, and you made her one. But what about us? You don't see me hosting "The Price is Right" do you?" Yep, Fred. Women have clearly won because that's all we want out of life: houses and babies. Thankfully, Applegate's feisty Grace is more than up to the challenge of tangling with him.

Overall, Hall Pass was more fun than I'd expected. Stay tuned for the next spoil-free movie recap. :)

Movie Moment: Little Fockers

Ah, Little Fockers. A definite holiday season must-see on any avid moviegoer's list. The bf and I saw it last Thursday night in a theater that was a bit more crowded than you'd expect on a weeknight.

It was cute. It was funny. It was considerably better than How Do You Know, which we saw New Year's Day. The bf thought it lacked a strong storyline, and maybe that was true. But to me, it was the logical third installment of a story about the progression of love. Meet the Parents was about the universal awkwardness of meeting a girlfriend's parents for the first time. Meet the Fockers was about getting married, having a baby, and the blending of two unlikely families. Little Fockers is about what happens after the babies come. Still happy and in love, the Fockers muddle through the typical minefields that beset couples their age: moving to a bigger house, child rearing, and the threat of infidelity. Not that that last one is a real land mine. Ever the good guy, Ben Stiller's Greg Focker never really considers bedding beautiful and flirtatious drug rep Andi Garcia (insert laugh here), played by Jessica Alba. Still, Andi's there for a reason, if only to prove the strength of Greg and Pam's relationship.

Serious analysis aside, the movie was definitely entertaining. I think my favorite part was when Kevin (Owen Wilson), Pam's ever-ingratiating ex, performs acrobatics in a white spandex suit at the elaborate circus-themed birthday party he throws for Greg and Pam's twins.

Movie Moment: How Do You Know

Today I dragged the bf to see How Do You Know. I figured anything starring Reese Witherspoon and Paul Rudd had to be good, right?

Not quite.

The heroine of How Do You Know is Lisa (Witherspoon), a world-class softball player who is unexpectedly cut from the U. S. woman's team, a disappointment so crushing that it throws her alternately into the arms of pro pitcher Matty (Owen Wilson), a self-absorbed good-timer with a bathroom full of toothbrushes and identical pink sweatsuits at the ready for female overnight guests, and George (Rudd), a self-deprecating good guy who runs his father's (Jack Nicholson's) corporation and is in danger of being indicted for some murky white collar crime or other that he presumably didn't commit.

I usually love Witherspoon. But I didn't find the indecisive, whiny career softball player Lisa to be sympathetic (to her credit, Lisa admits to the whiny part during a breakthrough discussion with George). She agrees to move in with Matty just weeks after they meet, only to become embroiled in a series of volatile arguments with him. Although her chemistry with George is more convincing, it sometimes seems like she's taking advantage of this overeager Baxter who just happens to be facing serious jail time. By comparison, Lisa's most pressing worry is that she "doesn't have what it takes for everyone else's normal plan" (ie, marriage and babies).

I think that most of these issues could have been masked, if not remedied, by a hefty dose of humor. But on the whole, the movie isn't funny, its few zingers having been spoiled by the trailers.

How Do You Know has its moments. The scene in which George's secretary's boyfriend proposes in the hospital room after she gives birth to their baby is particularly touching, especially because said boyfriend is presented as a commitmentphobic tool earlier in the film (happily, we learn that he's anything but). Lisa witnesses it all and is terribly moved. You can almost see the cartoon light bulb go on over her head to signal that she's thinking, hey, maybe marriage and babies aren't so bad after all.

Of course, George doesn't go to jail, which is fortunate, as Rudd is easily the best part of the movie, effortlessly delivering his signature dry wit (not that I'm a bit biased, what with him being my favorite actor.) And of course, he gets Lisa. Which is good. I'm just not so crazy about the way he gets her, or at least, about the way the movie ends. Lisa's just returned Matty's birthday gift of a diamond watch and ditched his party to meet George. And George says that just maybe she did it because she realized she loves him too.

This is the sort of behavior that gives romantic comedies a bad name. Lisa and George have only just decided to start dating, and already George is professing his love. It's not even clear why they're attracted to each other, aside from the vague common ground of their desperate situations. Everyone knows that the love part comes much later, and that sensible people don't utter a word about it until a) one person has at least a pair of emergency underwear at the other person's place, b) it no longer sounds creepy, and c) they're fairly certain the other person will say it back.

As the bf and I filed out of the theater, he turned to me and said, "That was two hours of my life that I'll never get back." I agreed that the movie had been kind of weak. It certainly rates a rent, though. Years from now, when it's being rerun on TBS, I'm sure I'll be knee-deep in felt or sequins or something, watching it as I craft.