Your friendly neighborhood grouch/crib pot/pestilential annoyance is back. Safely ensconced at home, with the smells of Mom's cooking wafting in she lets her fingers play on the keyboard. Ha, the pleasures of a 37.2 kbps Internet connection...one can type at one’s own sweet will and then let BSNL upload at its own sweet will (make it pace).
So the flight was awful. On the first leg to India a young woman from Mumbai proceeded to drive everyone within earshot deaf by her loud banter about her globe trotter like experiences. Little-Miss-Me had seen it all, done it all and the problem was that she remembered it all. Then there was the baby who had his mind set on screaming his little gloopy baby lungs out. We lost Little-Miss-Me on the second leg, but the screaming fuzz ball was joined by another ten screaming furry, fuzzy, bald (take your pick!!) diapered devils and this time they let out their full throated yodels in unison!! I did what any sane sleep deprived human in a tinpot floating in the clouds would do. I watched movies….yippeee!! So here are the one line movie reviews. Mrs. Henderson Presents is an all out Judi Dench affair, full of the stuff the sophisticates call joie-de-vivre. The Shop Girl is a good, touchy, feely chick flick. And sometime in between when the nappy clad devils were taking a breather I managed to sleep my way through Elizabethtown.