A Mouth Full of Popcorn

My stomach already hurts in advance of my dinner – massive bag of Minstrels and a large vat of sweet and salty popcorn.

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That should see me through the film

For it is ‘date night’ – for want of a better word. And there must be better ways of putting it.

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#couplegoals

So – I’m ‘off out’ with my other half to the cinema, against his will for three reasons:

a) it’s midweek and he hates going out on a school night

b) he’s probably missing some sporting event on some obscure channel. Latest obsession is speed climbing. (Honestly, it’s a ‘thing’.)

c) he hates the cinema

BUT! Tonight, he is less reluctant, for the viewing material is his choice…

Well, my choice actually. In scrolling through Instagram, Kate Hiscox (@wearsmymoney) alerted me to the ‘one night only’ showing of Coldplay‘s documentary. Tonight. November 14th in case you are not reading this in real-time.

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I booked it and told him only that I was ‘taking him out somewhere, that it was a surprise, but that he would love it’.

Big mistake.

Huge.

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The next few hours resulted in Jack Bauer-esque interrogation and guesses about at what I had done/booked/organised/sorted.

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Until he finally worked it out. Loves a surprise my husband…

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Hates these too

Anyway, he worked it out and seemed okay with it.

Am hoping this is a rare cinematic occasion where he’s actually watches the cinema screen instead of his Twitter feed.

For he is not a cinema fan in general – too dark, too many people, means a late night for him – whereas I will go and see pretty much anything on at the cinema.

I love the immersive experience of it. The escapism, the dark, the phones-away element.

I even enjoy the adverts at the beginning, before you get to the trailers for new releases. Yup, I’m ‘that’ person. My favourite is for the sound system, featuring all the vibrating silver beads. (Don’t judge.)

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What? It soothes me

I’ve always loved logos and imagery and when the Touchstone Pictures logo popped up on screen, you knew you were in for a treat. I’ve selected a few favourites:

 

 

Pure joy in these films IMO

My preferred seat, if available, is end of aisle. Husband too, purely for the extra legroom.

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Me, I like it for the potential loo break if a film is over 2 hours, although I try to avoid excessive liquids in these situations, because I get scared if no-one else is in the ladies.

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Photo Credit: memecenter.com

I have flashbacks to a horror film from the 80s called ‘Demons‘. (There’s always an issue with horror films and loos.) The person either doesn’t return their seat. Or if they do return, then something bad has happened to them. In the loo.

In terms of the cinema itself, I’m really not choosy.

I love my local VUE. Great for Wagamama lunch option too.

The Everyman experience is wonderfully cosy, but the snacks aren’t up to much, although the cookie dough thing is pretty spesh.

Reel are a fab local option for me, especially over half term with a load of kids in tow. Doesn’t require a second mortgage.

Also, I have certain friends for certain films.

The crap dance films where the hoodlum boy falls in love with the posh girl over a love of dance. I have a great friend for that.

Or the super sad films where I will cry – alot – and know that my cinema buddy will not judge because she will be sobbing in equal amounts too.

Or the Bridget Jones-type films, where it requires a group of you to go en masse and then dissect the film on a whatsapp chat later that night, quoting favourite lines from it.

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So if you’re heading to the cinema tonight to watch this Coldplay film, please:

Don’t be super late. I am not standing up to let you down the aisle when I’m midway through enjoying the opening titles.

Don’t sit behind me and rest your shoes on the armrest gap bit. Especially in summer, wearing open toe shoes.

Don’t eat cheesy jalapeño nachos next to me, behind me, in front of me. Anywhere near me, thanks.

Off to empty my bladder for tonight.

Dx.

 

 

Be a Good Sport…

On my first date with my husband (Silks & Spice, Camden), he casually mentioned in conversation that he was ‘into sport’. Alarm bells should have rung, but it was only through marriage and a shared custody of a Sky remote control, that I truly realised the extent to which ‘into sport’ actually meant.

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Silks & Spice sadly no longer open. Marriage still going strong. 

I’m quite aware that most of my life revolves around a sporting event. For example:

Me: “We’re going over to friends tomorrow for tea.”

Husband: “What time?”

Me: “Why?” (I know full well why.)

Husband: “(*insert seasonal sport here*) is on tv. If they haven’t got it on in the background, I’m going home.”

My social butterfly…

 

 

Thinking back, my first birth gave a clear indication of life as a sports widow.

Around 2am on the 14th September 2006, my husband found me at the foot of our bed, curled over a giant gym ball thingy, declaring, “I give up.’

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I think I was doing it wrong. Photo Credit: Rooted for Life

A couple of nights previous we’d had a false alarm, so once the hospital staff had finished prodding me and were satisfied that I was definitely in labour this time, husband decided we were in it for the long haul and proper arrangements needed to be made.

He even managed to schmooze the nurses into dragging a camp bed into the room for him. Tiring for the men, after all…Unknown-11.jpeg

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‘Comfty’, as my youngest says

Around 15 hours later, my beautiful daughter was born and whilst dizzy from both the epidural and the fact that she wasn’t a boy, I will always remember that soft green glow as I was wheeled back into the room…

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I always favour a v-neck

 

No. It wasn’t the staff in their scrubs.

It was the green haze from the football pitch on the tv screen as my husband held our daughter, experiencing her first game of many, whilst cradled in daddy’s arms, lying on the camp bed. (Ah, now I could see the urgency of the camp bed.)

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Not actual husband. Or daughter

I looked on in marvel at the thing next to me, peaceful, calm, content.

And that was just my husband. He even remembers the game. (Of course he does.Unknown-11.jpeg)

UEFA Cup – West Ham vs Palermo fact fans.

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Actual footage 14.9.06

I’m not a particularly sporty person, safe to say I’m not really sporty at all. I like the gym, Pilates, a friendly game of badminton or table tennis. Even basketball, but only if it’s at the funfair and involves winning a bag of candy floss.

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Yum. Get in my belly…

I just have zero interest in reliving my ‘wing attack’ days at school and joining a ladies league of netball.

No offence to those who do this pursuit for pleasure or professionally…plenty of my female friends are loving this release on a weekday evening – it’s just not for me. In fact, massive props to the England Netball Team who recently thrashed to receive gold at the Commonwealth Games.

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So emotional.. as I watch from the sofa.

Before I get trolled and bashed on social media for dividing the sexes, lots of female friends watch and attend just as many games as their other halves on a regular basis and have done since a very young age. (Even funnier when rival husband and wives are at the same match. You know who you are…)

But going back to base levels, I’ve been through alot recently. Alot.

Darts. Done. (He threatens to take me every year. FYI, I would go.)

Olympics. Done.

Cricket. Done.

Golf. Done. (Although I secretly quite like watching The Masters because:

A) the clapping and birdsong is so calming

and

B) my usually 9pm-watershed husband is actually still lucid at midnight

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So relaxing

So, to all of my football widow friends – we’ve performed really well this season, with limber checks on our phones for match updates and team support over whose evening will be the most ruined due to a match loss.

Just a few weeks to go and it will all be over  Unknown-9.jpeg

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.

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…I’ve just been gently reminded that the World Cup starts in under two months.

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I think I might take up netball for the summer…

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ps. Good luck to everyone participating in tomorrow’s London MarathonUnknown-10.jpeg(I’ll be watching. From my sofa.)