Being on an indie Romantic Comedy kick, I finally rented out Away We Go. I'll admit I was prejudiced against it since throwing the love interest Jim from The Office into a romantic comedy is like throwing McNolte from The Wire into an Irish Gangster flick. A very "no shit" moment. I don't expect to be surprised by a performance, rather I expect to see more of the same which is so lazy to me and insulting in a world of "casting to type" which really means casting a woman who's HOT and kind of looks like what you'd expect.
But I gave it a sporting chance and for the first half I was pleasantly surprised. I'm a closet romantic and the roots of their relationship was a breath of fresh air. Not the "we're pregnant and I'm a woman so I want to get married right now but my guy doesn't want to and how do I convince him!" relationship I've become accustomed. Rather, Maya Rudolph had no interest in marriage and John Kransinski was not pushy but clearly the one putting marriage on the playing field. That may not seem like much but the continuing trend in film and television of female characters wanting marriage while the male characters dig in their heels is not only outdated but insulting and tiresome. Most of my female friends older and younger than me are not interested in marriage. Some are, and that's fine, but lumping all women in as desperate for marriage basically says that all of us believe a relationship can only move forward if legal marriage is on the table which is a slap in the face of LGBT relations.
But that's just my opinion and already this movie is interesting to me. The plot is that Burt (Krasinski) and Verona (Rudolph) have found themselves pregnant and after discovering their only close-by family Burt's parents, (short-lived but great performances by Catherine O'hara and Jeff Daniels as usual), have decided to move out of the country they decide to travel across the country to find the right place to raise their baby.
Thus we follow them through a meeting of different friend's and family with different philosophies of parenting that range from heart-breaking (college friend's who've adopted while weathering five miscarriages) to hilarious (Maggie Gyllenhaul amazing as a new age mom who shuns societal expectations of motherhood like strollers and "hiding love-making" from their children). The first half the movie strikes a nice balance between what is expected and what works when raising a child.
Then is seems that the director Sam Mendes suddenly realized this film was supposed to be serious. Cue the drama-soaked indie music reminiscent of Garden State mixed almost too loud to hear the dialogue. Suddenly, I couldn't take the film seriously anymore. A few moments that treated subtly could have wrenched your heart were dragged out so long I either got bored or annoyed. And that's a shame because the scene involving Burt's brother discussing how lost his daughter would be now that her mother had left was not only painful but very true. If Verona's loss of her parents had been discussed beyond a brief but lovely interchange between Verona and her sister, the moment of Burt and Verona exploring the house she had grown up in would have felt right instead of tacked on last minute.
All in all, an ok film. I wouldn't kick it out of bed but I wouldn't ask it to stay for breakfast.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
I Fought the Law and I WON
Here's the breakdown of what happened.
I have 20 year-old Cadillac. She is my baby is the most punk rock vehicle I've ever owned. Basically, I'm a shantytown Rockefeller. I own two cars. That's right. TWO cars are in my name. How did this happen? How did a woman who makes BELOW minimum wage at ONE of her jobs, just barely minimum at her second and above minimum to fall asleep naked on the floor while art students sketch her rolls in charcoal end up with a four bedroom house with a bar and two cars?
Well, my four bedroom house is kind of ridiculous. First off, I have three roommates but even then a kitchen that large (big enough to fit a full-size super awesome 60's formica dining table and for my roommates to cook a prethanksgiving dinner) and separate room for a bar (painted hideously and then repainted beautifully by Lauren... I don't care how much pride you have a maroon and orange bar needed a repaint) our rent is higher than I promised myself I would pay. $350 before utilities where we are is pretty steep when you live with three people southwest VA. But, with the space, it's like living alone so for me it evens out.
Why do I have two cars. My first car, my first love, was and is a 1989 copper Toyota Camry. When they say they don't make 'em like that anymore they mean my car. You will rarely see a copper Camry in your life. My baby (named Hiroshima by my non PC dad and Penny by a very PC high school me) could BARELY make it to RIchmond twenty minutes from my home much less make it to my college town four hours away. So come college time, I was carless for the whole four years which is not a death sentence. Seriously, you can not only survive but college is a LOT easier without a car. You don't make the choice to live out of town because there's no way in hell you'll get to class and you never have to deal with parking permits. However!, I graduated and found out that my grandma had not only paid for her oldest grandSON (our family is unusually patriarchal for a white family) but for her oldest grandDAUGHTER college education.
Let's regroup. I'm $20,000 in debt due to loans for college. To make things fair, my grandma offered me (with some prodding) her precious 1987 Cadillac Deville. Not really a fair trade, the car is worth MAYBE $200 BUT having a car after graduation when your life doesn't center around campus is pretty valuable.
Now, here's the story. I hadn't had a car for longer than a week of break for five years when I got my Caddy named Moe. I'd forgotten the basics like, for example, making sure the registration is up to date. I was pulled over THREE TIMES in one day for my registration. Only my registration. Once going to work, once going for lunch (when I received a ticket... that's important remember that) and lastly leaving work. Three. Times. In. One. Day. The officer, when I received the ticket the first since I was 16 I kid you not, told me that as long as I updated my registration I would be fine. I didn't know (because I have clean driving record, this is also important) that I needed to present the updated registration to be safe. I thought, in our information age, that the system would see I was updated and the ticket would disappear.
WRONG!
WRONG!
WRONG!
My parents (because I move around so much I leave my mailing address with my parents) received a notice that my license was in danger of being suspended due to unpaid court fees.
Hold on a minute. Unpaid court fees? Suspended license? What's going on here?
I didn't know. So, being the kind of girl who's very unskilled at preemptive action but exceptional at crisis management, I went to our local court... where I was treated like SHIT.
Now, it's a college town. Lot's of parking tickets, unpaid bills and kids trying to get out of the trouble they caused. I understand that, I pulled the same tricks when I was an undergrad.
But I'm not an undergrad and the day I went into the district court to figure out what had happened it was my day off. I've been out of college for a year and working in the downtown since two months after I graduated. But it was my day off so I was dressed in a tasteful mini skirt with black leggings and my giant goodwill faux fur jean jacket with leopard print lining. The woman working talked to me like I was dirt.
"Well you'll have to explain to the judge why you couldn't show up to court" with a snooty attitude.
"I work three jobs and rarely get time off"
"Well you'll have to explain that,"
"When I come back to file for an appeal you'll be here to help me right?" I said with a hint of frustration as she turned her back on me before we finished.
"Yeah, I'll be here,"
Oh, I'm sorry. Did I make you work extra hard? Did I distract you from a day of filing paperwork for stuck-up college kids followed by you going out with your friends who only talk about their pencil-pushing days or a guy who seemed so interested in them but then suddenly wasn't and oh no another husband down the drain what will woman due in the mancentric world and then you go home to your cat and reruns of Friend's as you dream of having the life you imagined in high school but gave up for the safety of gainful employment but every so often you wonder what it be like if you had kept your art or writing major and did live on Ramen or nothing but were still passionate and just before you rip your hair out you pop a sleep aid then get up put on nice clothes and do your damndest to make a 19 year old feel like an asshole? Is that what I did?
Anyway...
I put in for my appeal and was assured my license was safe. Then I get a notice that as of 12/24 my license was suspended. Good to know after I just drove four hours plus back home after holidays. Good thing you can't speed in my Caddy. Here comes the week of panic, anger and remorse.
I was panicked for my court date. The morning of one of my best friends came over to coach and dress me since I'm the Shantytown Rockefeller and can't be bothered with higher class dress and act. We get to the court and I'm prepared to lose some money which, to me, seems unfair for a woman with a clean driving record BUT when someone's made an example of it's usually me. It's why I know most of the loopholes... keep that in mind. It's only bad luck if you don't find a way around it.
I was ready. A pile of paperwork and high heels and you try to not feel ready. I was in court five minutes before my case dismissed. I was out of court three hours before my license was returned to me. There were a few stops and circles to be run but by the end of the day...
All charges dropped and nothing on my driving record.
What's the lesson of all this? That you don't need money to survive in our system. Just education. My dad wanted me to just pay the fees and be done with it and, in a way, he was right. That would have solved it a month ago but we would have lost over $200. Instead, by having all my information and a minor amount of internet surfing I came out the same as if I had taken care of the ticket forthright. And I watched a girl with a speeding ticket argue it down to an offense that wouldn't affect her insurance.
Learn people. Pay attention and never assume that the bitch behind the counter knows all that needs to be known.
I don't feel like editing so just deal with the grammatical mistakes.
I have 20 year-old Cadillac. She is my baby is the most punk rock vehicle I've ever owned. Basically, I'm a shantytown Rockefeller. I own two cars. That's right. TWO cars are in my name. How did this happen? How did a woman who makes BELOW minimum wage at ONE of her jobs, just barely minimum at her second and above minimum to fall asleep naked on the floor while art students sketch her rolls in charcoal end up with a four bedroom house with a bar and two cars?
Well, my four bedroom house is kind of ridiculous. First off, I have three roommates but even then a kitchen that large (big enough to fit a full-size super awesome 60's formica dining table and for my roommates to cook a prethanksgiving dinner) and separate room for a bar (painted hideously and then repainted beautifully by Lauren... I don't care how much pride you have a maroon and orange bar needed a repaint) our rent is higher than I promised myself I would pay. $350 before utilities where we are is pretty steep when you live with three people southwest VA. But, with the space, it's like living alone so for me it evens out.
Why do I have two cars. My first car, my first love, was and is a 1989 copper Toyota Camry. When they say they don't make 'em like that anymore they mean my car. You will rarely see a copper Camry in your life. My baby (named Hiroshima by my non PC dad and Penny by a very PC high school me) could BARELY make it to RIchmond twenty minutes from my home much less make it to my college town four hours away. So come college time, I was carless for the whole four years which is not a death sentence. Seriously, you can not only survive but college is a LOT easier without a car. You don't make the choice to live out of town because there's no way in hell you'll get to class and you never have to deal with parking permits. However!, I graduated and found out that my grandma had not only paid for her oldest grandSON (our family is unusually patriarchal for a white family) but for her oldest grandDAUGHTER college education.
Let's regroup. I'm $20,000 in debt due to loans for college. To make things fair, my grandma offered me (with some prodding) her precious 1987 Cadillac Deville. Not really a fair trade, the car is worth MAYBE $200 BUT having a car after graduation when your life doesn't center around campus is pretty valuable.
Now, here's the story. I hadn't had a car for longer than a week of break for five years when I got my Caddy named Moe. I'd forgotten the basics like, for example, making sure the registration is up to date. I was pulled over THREE TIMES in one day for my registration. Only my registration. Once going to work, once going for lunch (when I received a ticket... that's important remember that) and lastly leaving work. Three. Times. In. One. Day. The officer, when I received the ticket the first since I was 16 I kid you not, told me that as long as I updated my registration I would be fine. I didn't know (because I have clean driving record, this is also important) that I needed to present the updated registration to be safe. I thought, in our information age, that the system would see I was updated and the ticket would disappear.
WRONG!
WRONG!
WRONG!
My parents (because I move around so much I leave my mailing address with my parents) received a notice that my license was in danger of being suspended due to unpaid court fees.
Hold on a minute. Unpaid court fees? Suspended license? What's going on here?
I didn't know. So, being the kind of girl who's very unskilled at preemptive action but exceptional at crisis management, I went to our local court... where I was treated like SHIT.
Now, it's a college town. Lot's of parking tickets, unpaid bills and kids trying to get out of the trouble they caused. I understand that, I pulled the same tricks when I was an undergrad.
But I'm not an undergrad and the day I went into the district court to figure out what had happened it was my day off. I've been out of college for a year and working in the downtown since two months after I graduated. But it was my day off so I was dressed in a tasteful mini skirt with black leggings and my giant goodwill faux fur jean jacket with leopard print lining. The woman working talked to me like I was dirt.
"Well you'll have to explain to the judge why you couldn't show up to court" with a snooty attitude.
"I work three jobs and rarely get time off"
"Well you'll have to explain that,"
"When I come back to file for an appeal you'll be here to help me right?" I said with a hint of frustration as she turned her back on me before we finished.
"Yeah, I'll be here,"
Oh, I'm sorry. Did I make you work extra hard? Did I distract you from a day of filing paperwork for stuck-up college kids followed by you going out with your friends who only talk about their pencil-pushing days or a guy who seemed so interested in them but then suddenly wasn't and oh no another husband down the drain what will woman due in the mancentric world and then you go home to your cat and reruns of Friend's as you dream of having the life you imagined in high school but gave up for the safety of gainful employment but every so often you wonder what it be like if you had kept your art or writing major and did live on Ramen or nothing but were still passionate and just before you rip your hair out you pop a sleep aid then get up put on nice clothes and do your damndest to make a 19 year old feel like an asshole? Is that what I did?
Anyway...
I put in for my appeal and was assured my license was safe. Then I get a notice that as of 12/24 my license was suspended. Good to know after I just drove four hours plus back home after holidays. Good thing you can't speed in my Caddy. Here comes the week of panic, anger and remorse.
I was panicked for my court date. The morning of one of my best friends came over to coach and dress me since I'm the Shantytown Rockefeller and can't be bothered with higher class dress and act. We get to the court and I'm prepared to lose some money which, to me, seems unfair for a woman with a clean driving record BUT when someone's made an example of it's usually me. It's why I know most of the loopholes... keep that in mind. It's only bad luck if you don't find a way around it.
I was ready. A pile of paperwork and high heels and you try to not feel ready. I was in court five minutes before my case dismissed. I was out of court three hours before my license was returned to me. There were a few stops and circles to be run but by the end of the day...
All charges dropped and nothing on my driving record.
What's the lesson of all this? That you don't need money to survive in our system. Just education. My dad wanted me to just pay the fees and be done with it and, in a way, he was right. That would have solved it a month ago but we would have lost over $200. Instead, by having all my information and a minor amount of internet surfing I came out the same as if I had taken care of the ticket forthright. And I watched a girl with a speeding ticket argue it down to an offense that wouldn't affect her insurance.
Learn people. Pay attention and never assume that the bitch behind the counter knows all that needs to be known.
I don't feel like editing so just deal with the grammatical mistakes.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Good Dick is yet another Stupid Indie Flick
With so much time on my hands, I decided to actually sit down and take a look at the films that has just come out on DVD. One of the perks of my part-time job is free rentals so I really have no excuse except procrastination for not seeing a new release or at least catching up on older films. While walking the aisles, I came across a lone independent film called Good Dick starring Jason Ritter who I guess is famous for something other than his dead dad, and Marianna Palka.
The premise is a lonely video clerk (given a modern twist in that the store rents DVD's ANNNND VHS's) who pursues a lonely troubled girl out of love and in hopes of helping her.
Typical premise already, guy looking for love, loner girl who just needs a hand to hold to get through this world. It's been done quite a few times. Pretty Woman. The Truth About Cats and Dogs. 10 Things I Hate About You. Must Love Dogs. My Super Ex Girlfriend. My Big Fat Greek Wedding. Happy Endings. Garden State. Secretary. Me And You And Everyone We Know. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. The list could go on and not all of those are hand-cringing. Some are successful even poignant in their story-telling and performances ( Secretary) while others are just fluff for a bored mind (My Super Ex Girlfriend). Besides, while navigating basic human interaction, who hasn't felt like a clumsy elephant in a world of graceful swans and felt comfort in a like-minded individual? It's a well-used premise because so many people can either relate to it in one way or another or, for even just a second, wanted it.
But all of these films have one thing in common. Though not all the relationships are text-book healthy or even plausible by the end, none of them are sick. As in, you rarely have two (or more) people who should go through extensive therapy before even owning a cat as the subjects of a romantic comedy.
This is Good Dick. Jason Ritter (Man... I'm not kidding he's credited as Man how fucking edgy) works in his hip video store (how many rental places have you been in with soft lighting? Seriously? In any city?) where Marianna Palka (Woman, doesn't that piss you off?) is a regular customer. She only rents erotic videos in any format until one day MAN suggests a different title. Woman does not like this interference in her life and expresses such by glaring at him, snatching her video and walking out. Man then goes to her apartment, catches her masturbating through her window, watches and then we cut to him waking up in his car.
Now here's the first problem with this film. My first reaction when Man wakes up in his car is he stayed outside her apartment all night. This is not the case and if the film didn't want me to think this, why was did it cut immediately to him in his car and then to him outside her apartment only to tell us later, through vague dialogue, that Man is living in his car FOR WHATEVER REASON and was an addict OF SOME SORT. Unless that was the point in which case... why? Why would the film want us to think he's a stalker to then show that he's not? Neither his living out of his car or possible drug use are ever explained and thus we never find out what the Hell this guy is about.
Man's next move after spying on Woman, is to show up at her apartment and make up a lie (using a neighbor's mail) that his Great Aunt lives in the complex. Woman rebuff's him. He then regroups and shows up again at her apartment with a new lie that his Great Aunt died and he needs someone to talk to. He talks Woman into letting him in... at butcher knife point. They then begin this dance of her treating him horribly... I mean horribly and him manipulating her into letting him sleep in her bed with him after betting her his dick was bigger than the one they saw in a porn and just letting him stay in her apartment in general.
The film begins to add in scenes of them bonding and Man trying to coerce if something sexual happened to her which in a film where characters were fleshed out and the editing paid attention to, might be believable. Instead it looks like a deeply desperate man taking advantage of a very "troubled" and depressed woman. At one point, after scene and scene of Woman screaming at him to get out and stay from her and how disgusting he is to her, he stands up and declares himself her boyfriend. And that's why he's staying. Even now, I don't know why he becomes so interested in Woman and the film shows nothing in her that would endear her to another person. Instead, I suppose, I guess this is just true love working it's magic.
At so many points in this film, I had to stop to figure out if this was a bait and switch thriller or if it really was supposed to be a romantic comedy.
Then Tom Arnold showed up.
All the mysteries of Woman are tied up in a final scene between her and her DAD TOM ARNOLD. Well, at least they're vaguely cleared up. Ok they're not really cleared up, they're just hinted at. But Tom Arnold is her dad and that's something isn't it?
In summation, this movie in all it's poor story-telling, boring performances and hipness made me want to punch Zach Braff in the face. He had nothing to do with Good Dick but he got the ball rolling on this indie love in the face of stupidity trend and I could murder him for it. As a warning to all indie film makers who got their little sensitive hearts broken, if you're going to dance in the ballroom of "real" romance in film you better go back and pay better attention to the people who actually did it successfully (Jim Jarmusch and Robert Altman to name a few) or I will find you.
The premise is a lonely video clerk (given a modern twist in that the store rents DVD's ANNNND VHS's) who pursues a lonely troubled girl out of love and in hopes of helping her.
Typical premise already, guy looking for love, loner girl who just needs a hand to hold to get through this world. It's been done quite a few times. Pretty Woman. The Truth About Cats and Dogs. 10 Things I Hate About You. Must Love Dogs. My Super Ex Girlfriend. My Big Fat Greek Wedding. Happy Endings. Garden State. Secretary. Me And You And Everyone We Know. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. The list could go on and not all of those are hand-cringing. Some are successful even poignant in their story-telling and performances ( Secretary) while others are just fluff for a bored mind (My Super Ex Girlfriend). Besides, while navigating basic human interaction, who hasn't felt like a clumsy elephant in a world of graceful swans and felt comfort in a like-minded individual? It's a well-used premise because so many people can either relate to it in one way or another or, for even just a second, wanted it.
But all of these films have one thing in common. Though not all the relationships are text-book healthy or even plausible by the end, none of them are sick. As in, you rarely have two (or more) people who should go through extensive therapy before even owning a cat as the subjects of a romantic comedy.
This is Good Dick. Jason Ritter (Man... I'm not kidding he's credited as Man how fucking edgy) works in his hip video store (how many rental places have you been in with soft lighting? Seriously? In any city?) where Marianna Palka (Woman, doesn't that piss you off?) is a regular customer. She only rents erotic videos in any format until one day MAN suggests a different title. Woman does not like this interference in her life and expresses such by glaring at him, snatching her video and walking out. Man then goes to her apartment, catches her masturbating through her window, watches and then we cut to him waking up in his car.
Now here's the first problem with this film. My first reaction when Man wakes up in his car is he stayed outside her apartment all night. This is not the case and if the film didn't want me to think this, why was did it cut immediately to him in his car and then to him outside her apartment only to tell us later, through vague dialogue, that Man is living in his car FOR WHATEVER REASON and was an addict OF SOME SORT. Unless that was the point in which case... why? Why would the film want us to think he's a stalker to then show that he's not? Neither his living out of his car or possible drug use are ever explained and thus we never find out what the Hell this guy is about.
Man's next move after spying on Woman, is to show up at her apartment and make up a lie (using a neighbor's mail) that his Great Aunt lives in the complex. Woman rebuff's him. He then regroups and shows up again at her apartment with a new lie that his Great Aunt died and he needs someone to talk to. He talks Woman into letting him in... at butcher knife point. They then begin this dance of her treating him horribly... I mean horribly and him manipulating her into letting him sleep in her bed with him after betting her his dick was bigger than the one they saw in a porn and just letting him stay in her apartment in general.
The film begins to add in scenes of them bonding and Man trying to coerce if something sexual happened to her which in a film where characters were fleshed out and the editing paid attention to, might be believable. Instead it looks like a deeply desperate man taking advantage of a very "troubled" and depressed woman. At one point, after scene and scene of Woman screaming at him to get out and stay from her and how disgusting he is to her, he stands up and declares himself her boyfriend. And that's why he's staying. Even now, I don't know why he becomes so interested in Woman and the film shows nothing in her that would endear her to another person. Instead, I suppose, I guess this is just true love working it's magic.
At so many points in this film, I had to stop to figure out if this was a bait and switch thriller or if it really was supposed to be a romantic comedy.
Then Tom Arnold showed up.
All the mysteries of Woman are tied up in a final scene between her and her DAD TOM ARNOLD. Well, at least they're vaguely cleared up. Ok they're not really cleared up, they're just hinted at. But Tom Arnold is her dad and that's something isn't it?
In summation, this movie in all it's poor story-telling, boring performances and hipness made me want to punch Zach Braff in the face. He had nothing to do with Good Dick but he got the ball rolling on this indie love in the face of stupidity trend and I could murder him for it. As a warning to all indie film makers who got their little sensitive hearts broken, if you're going to dance in the ballroom of "real" romance in film you better go back and pay better attention to the people who actually did it successfully (Jim Jarmusch and Robert Altman to name a few) or I will find you.
Alone in my house: Day Two and Three
Apparently I'm terrible at documenting my real life.
Day Two and Three:
Following my 5 hours of reorganizing the kitchen I threw myself into DVD's, hand-crafts and unusual meals made from room-mate abandoned food. Like eggs three days past their due.
Did you know you can tell whether an egg has turned using only a bowl of cold water? Thank god that was true considering the faith I put into it. Fill a bowl with cold water and place the egg on the bottom. If the egg sits "flat" (it's round, get it?) on the bottom, that's a fresh egg. If the egg floats a little bit but is still touching the bottom, it's still good but running out of time. If the egg floats, you better find something else to do with it other than eating it. Unless that's your thing in which case, you're an idiot.
After the egg didn't float, I boiled up some Ramen and drained it like pasta. I mixed up half the Ramen seasoning (oriental because I dabble in vegetarianism and the meat seasonings are made from animal) in the noodles then fried an egg sunny-side up with tabasco, thyme and montreal steak seasoning (because I love irony). I bowled up the Ramen and placed the egg (which I left a little runny) right on top.
Cost of meal: I already had the egg and seasonings so all I needed was the Ramen for $.89.
After my shanty dinner, I started working on a mobile using giant paper clips, fishing line, needle-nose pliers and cut up Kroger cards. This was an odd time for me.
Day Two and Three:
Following my 5 hours of reorganizing the kitchen I threw myself into DVD's, hand-crafts and unusual meals made from room-mate abandoned food. Like eggs three days past their due.
Did you know you can tell whether an egg has turned using only a bowl of cold water? Thank god that was true considering the faith I put into it. Fill a bowl with cold water and place the egg on the bottom. If the egg sits "flat" (it's round, get it?) on the bottom, that's a fresh egg. If the egg floats a little bit but is still touching the bottom, it's still good but running out of time. If the egg floats, you better find something else to do with it other than eating it. Unless that's your thing in which case, you're an idiot.
After the egg didn't float, I boiled up some Ramen and drained it like pasta. I mixed up half the Ramen seasoning (oriental because I dabble in vegetarianism and the meat seasonings are made from animal) in the noodles then fried an egg sunny-side up with tabasco, thyme and montreal steak seasoning (because I love irony). I bowled up the Ramen and placed the egg (which I left a little runny) right on top.
Cost of meal: I already had the egg and seasonings so all I needed was the Ramen for $.89.
After my shanty dinner, I started working on a mobile using giant paper clips, fishing line, needle-nose pliers and cut up Kroger cards. This was an odd time for me.
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