I've seen quite a few movies as of late, but I don't have time to review them all in depth. I can mention however, that I can't believe that there are two men who go check out a movie together in this day and age that STILL make certain to leave one empty seat in between them so that no one will suspect that they're gay. Really? Has anyone ever seen two people sitting together in a movie theater and even had a thought about those two people cross their mind at all? I mean, it's one thing if it's someone who has lugged a wee child to watch a movie that is inappropriate for children. Because then I am all about judging them.

But any other match-up of folks just doesn't interest me. Unless they do something ridiculous like leave an empty seat between them, thus making it obvious that they are terrified that someone will think they don't like girls. Because they do! See! That empty seat vouches for them! Now as a girl type person, I can assure them that any female worth her salt (is that an expression?) will absolutely see that empty seat and never ever give them the time of day. Because who the heck would want to interact with someone that grotesquely insecure with a faint whiff of homophobia?

So: Date Night is terrible. I know, I know, it seems like you can't lose with a Tina Fey/Steve Carrell match-up. Trust me. You lose big time bad.

An Education: Slow. Boring. Duke likened it to Vision Quest without the thematic music.

How to Train Your Dragon: really really good--until it's way too harsh and cruel for the age set they are looking to attract (and their moms who may have sobbed uncontrollably).

Where the Wild Things Are: I had to turn it off after approximately four minutes. I saw two scenes. Both were disturbing to the point that I couldn't do it. I don't like suffering in my entertainment! I don't like animals to suffer or children or animated dragons. And y'know what else: I know everyone makes a big ta do about this book but I never liked it! So there!

Afghan Star: Really, really good. With the added bonus of making me better appreciate how fortunate I am to have been born in this country.Sometimes with all the other stuff that makes me crazy, I forget that there are rights that I have that I take for granted. Like dancing. Or showing my hair. Or getting an education. Also, the song lyrics in the movie are outstanding. Such as: The curve of your eyebrow stings like a scorpion. As Duke pointed out, however, it's no: She's got dumps like a truck (The Thong Song).

Generally, I no longer read the big glossy magazines that have very little in the way of articles but quite a bit in the way of fashion. I used to read them because at one point, I felt that I really really really needed to know what was in and what was out. I wanted to remain abreast of these things for when I was grown-up and had a life that might necessitate me wearing a t-shirt that cost $1000 instead of buying the $11 Target knock-off. And then I turned 20.(And no , we didn't really have Target back then. Nor did we have the Internet, hence my dependence on actual periodicals for my connection to the world beyond my town.)

And then at some point I realized it was fine to like what I like when I like it, regardless of whether it was in style. Last year I was desperate for a jumpsuit. Desperate. I made several trips to Big Cities in search of one. I contemplated buying one that was a truly indecent sum of money just because I couldn't imagine living another minute without one. I finally found one at a brand-names-for-less store that cost but a song. And I've worn it once. Who knew that a jumpsuit would not be exactly what I needed to run errands and go to the gym and volunteer at kindergarten and work from home? It seemed so all-purpose at the time.

And fast-forward one year later, jumpsuits and their cousin the romper are in every store, including my favorite staple for all things: Target. And I live in a pair of yoga pants and sports bra/tank-top not-cute sneakers combo just like every other mom who drives her child to school. We are fashion forward, you see. My look is totally ironic. It's a social commentary on the state of the nation.Wait until Anna Wintour catches on to the tongue-in-cheek suburban mommy look! I'm just ahead of the curve. Although I could really use a Diane Von Furstenberg wrap dress for my gardening purposes.

I did have a point. An almost related one. So, I wanted to look at the pretty pictures of the pretty people and I checked out a slew of fat, non reading magazines from the library. And discovered that the latest way to wear a purse is apparently to be naked in bed, save for jewelry or perhaps a fur and to languidly brandish your pocketbook. I'm so behind the times! Kate Moss and Julianne Moore are all glamour in bed with their bags. But I am going to have to guess that their purses do not contain crayons and old lists and Purell and child-friendly snacks and weigh as much as a small dog. They probably don't toss their purse into a gross gym locker or set it down on the floor or grass or classroom desk. In other words, I am not the target market for these designer bags. Because I look at those ads and I don't even see the bags in question. I see instead how silly it looks to be naked in bed with your purse. And how potentially unsanitary.

Okay, so maybe that wasn't a related point exactly.

Although yesterday a stranger behind me in line at the grocery store noticed I was buying a product for which she had a coupon and she insisted I use it. How nice is that?

You would think I'd have a lot to say. Obviously at least some part of my subconscious has a lot on its mind because my sleep is averaging out to one night of sleep per every three or four nights without, but I just don't. I wish I did, but I wish I was getting a good night's sleep every night even more. Soon I will be making soap and thinking I'm in cahoots with Tyler Durden.

I seem to be talking about television shows an awful lot lately. Having dvr has really changed my life. I can watch whatever I want whenever I want during those hours between 2 and 6 when I don't sleep. (Which is pretty great seeing as how Roseanne reruns no longer dominate during those hours.)I can find out who won Shear Genius (a totally travesty!), or who is going to be showing at Mercedes Benz Fashion Week. However, I'm afraid that Real Housewives of New York will no longer be making my insomnia cut. They are just too mean this year and it gives me too much anxiety.

So in closing, I'd like to do a little wrap-up of each woman. Seeing as how they are my close personal friends and all.

Ramona is bat-shit crazy. Clearly she has a mental disorder and should be on medication. My guess would be manic depressive? Or whatever the kids are calling it nowadays. Or just manic?. Also, she has no barrier between her thoughts and her words and under this guise of honesty, she says very cruel things. Plus, her husband is so freaking sleazy he's like a caricature. I know he's going to be arrested for something really bad at some point. However, I don't really mind her, because she is obviously a bit off her rocker and would probably be a very nice person with some of "mommy's little helpers." (the tranquilizer kinds)

Hate is still probably too strong a word for how I feel about the countess. But I do think she is a giant ass and truly horrible person. Who, as a side note and unrelated to my disgust at her behaviors, may have a penis. She is really stomach turning.

I am thankful that I've never actually met anyone who is as dumb as Kelly. I mean, have they checked her IQ to see if she should be allowed out in public without a helper?How in the world is she trusted to be a mother? I hope she has a really good nanny. She is seriously painful to watch as she tries to navigate the world of the thinking. Again, it makes my stomach hurt.

Who knew Alex would emerge as the reasonable one? Kudos to you, Alex. You act like a person who cares about others.

Oh, Jill and Bethenny. What a travesty. I can't believe they haven't made-up. Bethenny obviously knew she was wrong for not reaching out more when Bobby was sick and is defensive about her shortcomings in that area. Jill is nursing that wound too much. Especially as it becomes more apparent all the time that Bethenny is truly sorry and wants to make amends and Jill wants to accept her apology but can't swallow her pride. I can't watch this as entertainment. it's just sad.

Bring on The Jersey Housewives. There is no one to feel sorry for on that show. Cause they'll shank you. That's just pure voyeuristic enjoyment!

And in an unrelated note, my garden is really coming along! Peas, strawberries, arugula, lettuce, potatoes, edamame and oregano are all planted. Just waiting for it to warm-up before getting the rest in the ground. And two flowers on the magnolia tree defied all logic and bloomed. They've been waiting to do this for four years. Well-done Magnolia tree. Well-done.

Tonight is Survivor. I'm not sure how the rest of this season is going to go as everyone I liked has now been voted off the island. Are the kids still using that catch phrase or am I just showing that I am perpetually stuck in the 90s? I still really cannot believe that Boston Rob was double-crossed by his team. I hope everyone feels like big dummies when they see how they were manipulated by Russell! Do you hear that, Team Villain? You are dummies! And from now on you will be known not as the Heroes and Villains, but as the Heroes and Zeros. Goodness, I am clever.

I have decided that in addition to the pregnancy parking spaces and spaces reserved for patrons with small children, I would like stores to add "I feel lazy" parking spots. Because that would be funny. And that would make me want to shop there just so I could park in that spot.

I also would like to propose an idea for gym motivation: Someone needs to figure out a way that just when you think you're done with your workout, or feel like you can't do another rep or keep running on the treadmill at that incline, you could try on all the clothes in your closet. Because I'm pretty sure it would be great incentive to keep going. At least for me it would.

Despite the fact that I've been going to the gym pretty religiously, I have yet to lose any weight.(The Easter candy is obviously not being negated by an extra 10 minutes tacked onto my workout) I have gotten stronger, but it doesn't make my clothes fit any better. Today it took me 23 minutes to find a pair of shorts I would wear out of the house. And so I went to a local chain store in the hopes of finding a pair of shorts that transformed me into being ten pounds thinner and four inches taller. Now I think every woman in the world is well-aware that the mirrors and lighting in the dressing rooms outside your home are rigged. Hence the phenomenon of loving something in the store and hating it when you put it on at home. So having lovely lighting and tricksy mirrors is smart business for a store. But today, today their trickery failed them!

I had a slew of shorts in hand, closed the door to the dressing room and caught a glimpse of myself from behind in one of the mirrored walls. And I was shocked to see that I did not look as horrible in my current shorts as I had thought. Or at least I did not look as squat and wide in the kind lighting and elongating mirror as I did in my more honest mirror at home. This is not to say I look good, but rather that I did not look as bad as I had originally feared. I think I may have even caught the briefest glimpse of a possible muscle on the back of my leg. And so I didn't even try on any shorts because I don't need another pair of transition shorts until that wonderful day arrives when I am able to fit into my "real" clothes. My current transition shorts will do just fine. Thank-you fun-house mirrors!

I think I am a gym addict. Because I have not been to the gym since this whole spring break thing began and I had to resume life as a stay at home mom and I have yet to sleep through the night. From 2:30 to 5 or 6, you can find me clicking through the free movies on On Demand. Where the heck has my beloved Roseanne gone? Last night Duke joined me and we watched Chelsea Lately and laughed and laughed. Because she is damn funny.

Now it's not like I haven't been working out. In fact, I can barely type because my forearms feel as useless as if I was a Tyrannosaurus. Because it's gardening time, y'all. And I am in it to win it this year. I tend to always talk a big game, but this year I have the backing of a friend who actually follows through. And she is lending that talent to me.

Me: "Yeah, I need to order some good soil this year."

My friend, "I just ordered my soil and it's being delivered tomorrow. You should call now before they close." And I did! And then to top it all off, I was forced to weed and de-rock my garden so that said soil could be placed on it. Which took about 36 trips with the wheelbarrow by Duke and 3 trips with a bucket whilst wearing bunny ears by Mort. Granted we still have another two tons on our driveway, but that is not the point.

Me: "I think I need to rent a rototiller."

My friend: " Let's both go in on it and get both our gardens done. How about Thursday?"

And then she was so charming to the rototiller rental men that they got big goofy grins on their faces and they gave us a discount. And free gas. And free ramps to get it in and out of the car because it weighed 742 pounds. Between two moms and three children, two proper shovels, two snow shovels, one child's shovel and a rake, my garden is ready to plant!

And I know you will all be excited to hear that my back doesn't even hurt. So I think I'm on the right track at the gym with building this back of steel to keep all the discs where God put 'em. Because I have never before gardened without back pain. This is my year. Do you hear me rabbits and tomato hornworms and grossy bugs being milked by ants? This is my year! I will not have you ruining this for me.

Today I'm planting spinach and sunflowers. And potato. It's not a word that starts with "s" so it doesn't really flow as smoothly. But that's what's going down.