Gravity

Those of you who know me on Twitter and/or The Facebook are all too informed of my ongoing brawl with a wee local grocery store, although the store seems to be painfully oblivious. A lethal mixture of hormones and vague (and not so vague) transgressions leave me essentially flipping off the store when I drive by one moment, sheepishly patronizing it the next (their meat! is so cheap, fresh and delicious!).

Last week, there was the battle over the grocery cart, wherein I stupidly thought that I could take my heavy purchases and bring them out to my car with my cart, not only avoiding the pain of carrying them out, but using it for balance. See also: pregnant. Also, it’s a grocery store. That’s what carts are FOR. Except, apparently, I could not, as they sent an infant boy out after me to retrieve the cart with the stupid statement that “[The owner] doesn’t want carts to get lost,” followed by an angry look and some sullen cart-snatching. Which is FINE, but, you know, PUT UP A SIGN. Don’t make the pregnant ladies feel stupid by RUNNING THEM DOWN LIKE THIEVES.

I’ll allow that maybe hormones played a part in my fury, because really, it’s a GROCERY STORE CART, but still. And yes, some big city stores don’t let carts leave the store, but you know, we have more cows than people here, so FAH! FAH MEAT STORE!

I needed chicken and ground beef today, and seriously, you guys, it’s so cheap and fresh and I save SO MUCH MONEY there, so I went back, and lo, all was fine until I reached the checkout, where, upon my approach, the clerk announced, “Whoa! You look UNCOMFORTABLE! When are you due?”

Yes, yes, not the greatest comment, but whatever! I am uncomfortable! Will gleefully accept sympathy!

But when I replied that yes, it was a little less than eight weeks, she came back with, “That LONG? You’re GIANT! I’m surprised you didn’t give birth in the aisles!”

GIVE BIRTH IN THE AISLES. NEXT TO THE TRIPE. I actually laughed at her, because seriously, what can you do? Oh meaty grocery store. You break my heart. And you know what’s worse? I know I’ll go back, lured by fresh meat.

Anyway! Moving on … Sleeping has continued to be a challenge, and I usually wake up to pee a jillion times, and arise at least once to un-jam my jaw, when Adam usually kindly rams a pillow into my back for support, because that hurts too, and oh, man. Preparing for the baby and all that, fine. Maybe I AM giant.

Also, I should tell you that I’ve seen several movies in the last few days, including Zack & Miri Make a Porno and … well, really, Seth Rogen has to be one of the most disgusting people ever, I’m sorry. I can’t see him in any kind of romantic role, much less using the term, “making love,” which he did on multiple occasions in what was supposed to be a LIGHTHEARTED MOVIE. (MAKE IT STOP.) Ergo, it remains one of the most miserable movies I’ve seen in years.

In addition, I caught The Wrestler, which I DID like, and Mickey Rourke, I’m sorry, was just freakin’ awesome. I know some disagree and take a much more critical view of it than I do, but man, I did like it, implausible allegory and all. See also: Marisa Tomei SMOKIN’ HOT at 44. My God.

And finally … Slumdog Millionaire. Yes, yes it was very good, but after all the hype it received, seriously, it would have had to enable the entire cast to come to my house and clean it with a toothbrush for me to really dig it to the degree I was supposed to. Dude there are a LOT of indie films out there that are great that don’t receive the same amount of attention, but once in a while the world grabs hold of a wee indie gem and is all, “BEHOLD! A NON-COOKIE CUTTER MOVIE!” and anoints it king of the world.

I don’t mean to take anything away from it — it WAS good, if hilariously implausible and sort of ridiculous in a way that required an absurd suspension of disbelief, Bollywood influence aside — but holy baloney, was it HYPED UP OMG.

I … I think I liked The Wrestler more. Sorry.

Hey! Happy Tuesday! And you know what Tuesday means? BIRTHING CLASS! Who’s excited to see what knitted body part she whips out? I’m thinking boobs. And maybe testicles, because why be sexist about it?

*Sara Bareilles

26 comments January 12th, 2009