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Monthly Archives: May 2017

Did You Hear About The Morgans?

This film, starring Hugh Grant, Sarah Jessica Parker, Sam Elliott, Mary Steenburgen, Elisabeth Moss and various others, has a cast that I’d normally expect more from. Not all of them, I’ll admit. And I don’t expect any acting from Sarah Jessica Parker, which is exactly what happens. She’s just a spoilt brat having to move due to unforeseen circumstances, and just like her character from Sex and the City, she’s not actually capable of adjusting to the new situation.
Hugh Grant is the one who knows how to make both their lines work. He’s not that good either, but his way of acting is more like he’s realised he went to the wrong party and now he’s gotta deal with it. Which is a description of him in most of his films really. He can do that and he does the job well.
Sam Elliott is typecasted so obviously that he really barely needs any other dressup. Mary Steenburgen as his sidekick works perfectly.

So, that’s about the actors. Now the story: the Morgans, an estranged couple, find themselves being a witness of a murder on one night, where Mr Morgan has desperately tried to get Mrs Morgan to have dinner with him again. Due to the fact that the murderer has seen the Morgans being a witness of his crime, he tries to kill the Morgans. Since the killer turns out to be a high profile criminal, the Morgans are offered a place in a witness protection program. Mrs Morgan doesn’t want this to be a shared accommodation, but there’s no choice there.

Actually Sarah Jessica Parker’s attitude is the most annoying one in this film. She walks around like she ended up on the wrong set, including the ‘you cheated on me!’ drama. Though at first you sympathise with that, in the end it turns out she’s been no better herself, and you end up hating her even more because she’s such a hypocrit.

I’m sure there’s worse films than this one, it’s just not that far behind.

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Posted by on May 10, 2017 in Films, Opinion, Uncategorized

 

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Laminaat/ Wooden floor

Van de week hebben we onze geliefde kat begraven, een droeve gebeurtenis. Het betrof een eigenaardig beestje, wat mijn man al ruim 16 jaar gezelschap hield, mij zo’n 11 jaar.
Nu moest ik ineens denken aan één van de keren dat ons geliefde beest had besloten weg te lopen. Dat is meerdere malen gebeurd, maar die keer was het wel erg beangstigend, omdat we net waren verhuisd. We bleken het kattenluikje in ons nieuwe onderkomen te hebben onderschat: dat had niet slechts twee standen (namelijk ‘open’ en ‘dicht’) zoals we dachten, maar wel vier. Inclusief ventielsluitingen in beiden richtingen. Waar we ‘m dus in bleken te hebben gezet. Het beest, Poes geheten, had net een nieuw halsbandje. Wat hij op de gang van ons nieuwe huis had achter gelaten. Paniek.
Omdat onze oude woning nog niet geheel ontruimd was, moesten we daar naar terug. Het openen van de deur leverde dikke tranen op, want de schreeuwde stilte herinnerde ons aan het weggelopen beestje.
Nu moesten echter de schouders eronder, want elk detail dat niet in originele staat werd teruggebracht, zou ons met extra kosten opzadelen, want zouden in rekening worden gebracht.
Toen ontdekte ik pas wat frustratie bij me teweegbracht. M’n man was verbaasd, maar liet me begaan. Wat als gevolg had dat ik het volledige laminaat (wat aan de vloer was vastgelijmd en geniet en met verbindingsstukken aan elkaar vast zat) in no time los had gerukt.
Hij had zelf aanzienlijk meer moeite de boel in onze voormalige slaapkamer los te krijgen.
‘Kun je hier ook even losgaan?’ vroeg hij, lollig bedoeld. Het was pas toen dat ik me realiseerde dat mijn emotionele staat voor de verandering zeer nuttig was.

Het kostte minder dan de middag om ons oude appartement in oude ‘glorie’ te herstellen.

Poes meldde zichzelf de volgende ochtend vroeg voor ons (nieuwe) bed. En zo kwam alles toch nog goed.

 

Last week we’ve buried our cat, a sad event. It was one of the weidest creatures that accompanied my husband for over 16 years, myself only a mere 11 years.
Now I was suddenly reminded of one of the times our beloved creature had decided to wander off. This happened a few times, but that particular time it was especially stressful, as we had just moved houses. It turned out we misjudged the catflap our new house had. It didn’t have two options (‘open’ and ‘closed’ ) as we thought, but four. Including ‘open for going out, but closed for going in’  and the other way around. And it happened to have been in that position when the animal, named Poes (Puss) had walked out. We had given him a new collar. Which it had managed to take off. Panick.
Since our former appartment hadn’t been fully cleared, we had to go back to fix that. Opening the door made me well up again, as we were confronted with the screaming silence of Poes also not being there.
We had to get the floors out, however, because not doing so would cost us a lot, given that professionals were going to have to remove it if we didn’t, sending the bill to us. It was then that I discovered that me being frustrated can be quite handy. You see, we had wooden floors. Stuck with both glue and nails, being connected with aluminum thingies. I tore, ripped, flipped and kicked everything apart. With results. In no time, the floor was taken apart. It surprised hubby, who needed a lot more time with it in our former bedroom.
‘Can you do that here too?’ he asked, trying to be funny. I hadn’t even realised that I was going wild. When I ripped that floor apart, I realised that me being frustrated was actually helpful for a change.

It took less than a day to get our appartment back in the state we were supposed to leave it in.

Poes returned the very next day, in our new bedroom. And so everything ended well. 

 
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Posted by on May 10, 2017 in Daily life

 

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