So, yesterday Auntie Marge and Uncle Wes left. I was very sad. The torrential downpour that accompanied their exit from Vancouver was appropriate. I really enjoy having them around. Living with Heather has enabled me to get to know them so much better. I never realized how much of a goof Uncle Wes was, and I didn’t know Auntie Marge was so sarcastic. I love them all the more for it. Heather did make it very clear to me that she wouldn’t be able to watch any sports for a couple of days after their departure. I told her I’d give her space. That’s why I have my own TV…
Well, to combat our tears and growling stomachs (having Auntie Marge to cook for us for a week was heavenly…), we went to see Cameron Crowe’s new movie, “Elizabethtown”, starring the ever-so-handsome Orlando Bloom and the effervescent Kirsten Dunst, whom I strongly dislike. I’m still trying to process this movie. I thought I liked it. Now I’m not so sure again. I’m having a hard time trying to figure it out because it meandered so much. I thought the end of the movie was where the point was, and most of the preceeding hour and a half was filler. It’s one of those movies that’s either brilliant or absolute crap, and you can make arguments for both. I think I need to see it again.
Then, Heather and I literally drowned our sorrows at Moderne Burger (and yes, that’s how they spell “modern”). Heather has raved about this place for the past year, but we haven’t ever been able to eat there because it wasn’t open. Why? A fire next door caused a lot of damage. But the wait was worth it. Real chocolate milkshakes. Real burgers with no filler. They’re not even ground beef. They’re steak burgers. And homemade fries. Mountains of them. I almost exploded. It was so good. I couldn’t finish my burger. It was huge! Our stomachs were so full, we found it hard to get up from our seats at the table!
And then what did we do? I’ve had this yen to watch “The Notebook” all week. I don’t know why. I just did. And so, I rented it. And I cried at the end. I don’t think I did the first time. But this time I bawled, and bawled and bawled. My Mom called and asked what the heck was wrong with me. “The Notebook”. That’s what was wrong. And because of that emotional rending, I couldn’t sleep until midnight. I kept thinking, “Is that what love is really like?” “Are there people in the world that love each other that much?” “Will I find a love like that?” And on, and on, and on.
But my night was far from over. I ended up tossing and turning all night, in and out of dreams. The first dream involved me teaching Keith Urban in an English literature class. The second dream involved me receiving $2000 dollars from my Grandma Lehmann. She phoned and asked if I had heard that she was giving me the money. I said, “No.” Then she said I should be receiving a DVD that would have the announcement on it. Sure enough. A DVD arrived, and I watched it. And Grandma gave me $2000 for no apparent reason. Dream number three had Josh Duhamel singing. Apparently he recorded the song, “Danglin'” by Maury Yeston (a song I love, written by a composer I love). And his girlfriend, Fergie of the Black Eyed Peas wanted to record it. But she was mad that I knew the song. I have no idea how I got involved, but, whatever.
Well, that’s enough dreaming. I’m going to go and have one of the nanamio bars Auntie Marge and Uncle Wes left before tackling my lesson plans for the week. Here’s to more dreams of cute guys tonight!