Pirates Again

You know, I think that I may actually post more about being excited about going to see pirates than I will actually write about the movie itself. Seriously, though, everyone can look up a movie review on their own. Not many people know what I think about actually going to see this movie.

Hannah, my friend who moved to Florida a couple of years ago, (and Hannah is pronounced the Jewish way, I'll have you know, Honnah) is coming for a visit tomorrow, and we are going to go and see the Blancons together - which will be quite interesting. When I mentioned that she was coming for a visit, Jason said,

"Well, that's it. You've never had competition before. She's totally going to steal Julien from you."
"No, I don't think so," I said, "though she does have this weird crush on him. Weird, because she's sixteen."
"Aha! He's practically her boyfriend already!" shouted Jason.
"[snort] Yeah, right," interjected my mother, "I don't think competition will be a problem for Sarah."
"Why, exactly, do you think that, Mother?" I inquired, but my question was never answered.

I never thought that it would be so much trouble to see this movie. We scheduled it for Sunday (baseball). We scheduled it for Wednesday (Blancons in Narberth). Now, after much whiffling, it has remained at Thursday for a little while. I am going to see it - if nothing ELSE happens - at 7 o' clock this evening.

Julien was supposed to look up the movie times on the internet, but looked up paintball gear instead. Miss Kristyn apologized mortifiedly.

"I'm SO sorry!" she said, looking puppy-doggish, "he really DOES care. But he's young yet." I went inside the house, fell over, and laughed hysterically.

Miss Kristyn is very concerned that Julien does not show me enough attention. She emailed me as pertaining to this issue, and I discussed it with the hapless J. It went something like this:

"Julien," I said, "you don't show me enough attention." A stare from the boy, who spends practically every spare minute with me.
"What?" he asked.
"Your mother says that you don't pay enough attention to me," I stated imperiously. "Here are my demands: flowers, chocolates, cards on Valentine's Day, little notes including the words 'love' and 'forever', and Public Displays of Affection."

He almost died of heart failure before a giggle gave me away.

"Seriously, though," I said, when we had finished laughing, "I'll be working on Thursdays and Fridays until 5pm all summer long. We need to figure out something, because going straight from seeing you four days a week to two days a week may kill me." (I didn't say it just like that, but along those lines.)
To my slight surprise, he acquiesced.

All that to say, I have to go. Work is calling.