call of the while
Well, this is yet another day where I otherwise would just be telling you what TV I watched last night (Big Little Lies before Shobhit got home from work; the finale of season 1 and then the first two episodes of season 2 of Fleabag afterward -- and it was very clear from moment one that season 2 is a vast improvement, and season 1 was even good!), but all anyone can talk about since yesterday is the Cats trailer, which is a singular, uncanny-valley horror without precedent.
And still, as I told Noah this morning right after he watched it when I brought it up, I bet anything that if nothing else, the movie will succeed in its opening weekend, because millions of people will go to hate-watch it. Including me. Laney and I have already marked our calendars -- for the very day after I'm certain I'll be seeing Rise of Skywalker with Gabriel.
I told Mandy on Facebook that watching that trailer is like experiencing a glitch in The Matrix while on acid. I'm not sure I'll ever come up with a better descriptor than that.
There actually was one other thing last night I can tell you about, which was pretty out of the ordinary: I called my mom! I mean, it's arguably ordinary to call my mom, but not for me nearly as much for other people, and certainly not on a daily basis. I think the last time I spoke to her, at the most recent, would have been, I don't know, Easter maybe? I called her on her birthday (June 2) but there was no answer and I left her a voice mail, which our conversation last night made me think maybe she never heard (or she just doesn't remember it).
Here's a good update on Mom, should anybody reading this care: "I'm healthy." She literally said that. Bear in mind this declaration is contextual; she still lives with chronic pain and talked about how she and Bill can always tell when it's going to rain in Wallace, Idaho because they hurt more. This was still a relief, given both the amount of time she spent at hospitals and rehabilitation centers for countless health issues in 2018, and the fact that Shobhit and I are only visiting them one time in 2019 rather than the usual two, and even that won't be until December. Mixed feelings about the living situation notwithstanding, from that angle it's good that Christopher and Tristen live with them, so I don't have to worry about Mom and Bill being there alone. Or I guess, I don't have to feel bad about not worrying about it.
Also: Mom has not smoked in five and a half years! I didn't realize it had been so long. Apparently both she and Bill quit in December 2013. It astonishes me to this day, because I was truly convinced Mom would smoke for the rest of her life. It just goes to show: you can be convinced of anything and still be wrong. She told me last night that Bill actually quit first, and she quit shortly after because Bill started to complain about the taste of kissing her.
Just a few other details. I totally spaced that as of January this year, even Christopher's youngest, Braeden, is 13 -- all five of them are now either teenagers or older. (Even Tristen is now 19, and apparently still with only a driver's permit.) Mom says Braeden has become a troublemaker and made reference to him "getting into the booze." I'm sure there's way more to the story there. Christopher and Tristen were apparently gone, driving to Spokane, when I called. She said Christian (16 as of last November) and Braeden come for visits every other weekend and would be there this weekend too. I guess Tristen, according to Mom, has "finally gotten his act together" and isn't getting into as much trouble as he used to. Although apparently he still thinks he can boss Braeden around if they aren't around their parents. But I was like, "That's hardly surprising. I know what siblings are like." I was thinking about Christopher when we were kids.
Anyway, we talked for 73 minutes, even longer than usual. Hopefully I'll manage to call her again sometime before it's just before we need to plan for the December trip. I actually could stand to be much better about that.
[posted 12:18 pm]