Gravity

Well, the Oscars are finished, the sequinned dresses hang limply on their hangers and the gold plated miniature crash test dummies reside in their new homes.

I haven't seen any of this years nominees (I tell a lie- I went to see Frozen, but I left half way through. Something about it annoyed me. Could it have been the cartoon images that parody the real beauty of young women? Those hand span waistlines and ski slope noses between eyes the size of China? Or am I just becoming crabby? Hard to tell).

Anyway- Gravity. Not really a film with a great story and I doubt it'll change history, other than what Sandra Bullock does with her huge pay check. But it's grossing fabulous sums at the box Office and garnered the most Oscars- so it must be worth seeing. Trouble is, there are only 3 showings left at the local flea pit. It's either 6.30 pm, which is a very difficult time if your stomach is accustomed to, and demands, feeding at 7 sharp.
Or 11 am tomorrow.
That's the Senior's show.
I hate to go to the Senior show. The staff look at you funny.
You just know they're wishing they could cover the seats in plastic, especially when it's a comedy, in case the blue rinse brigade have a little 'accident'.
And they always seem to turn the volume up.
Mind you, that might be a good thing.
At least it covers the sound of any involuntary farting.