Right this minute things are okay.
I finished my wine last night. PJ made it into a sangria for me since it no longer tasted good and was room temperature when I like my drinks icy-cold. I watched Hustlers, and am a little stunned by it today. How simulated sex and a few pasties got an R-rating. Maybe it was the drugs? Maybe the swearing? I don't know. I didn't think it deserved an R unless you're a kneejerk conservative but then why would you be watching a movie about strippers, drugs and crime?
I was impressed by Jennifer Lopez though. She was FIERCE. I was gobsmacked by all the girls insistence on not relying on anyone else only to be ruined the minute the industry dried up as they had used their independence seemingly only to buy big apartments, canvas Gucci bags and Louboutins.
Which had the sugar baby in me screaming at the screen, Jesus Christ.
(I have those things. Louboutins are overrated and uncomfortable. Coated-canvas bags are crap and I know they're one-season bags and aren't supposed to last years but for the prices they fucking should. Big-city apartments aren't worth it, trust me and goddamn, women, if you want to be independent, invest.)
It was miserable. They also seemed to have people on tap to look after their children twenty-four-seven. Also, men aren't that stupid and bartenders aren't that blind. So the montage of drugging the drinks of the guys wouldn't have even been a thing, considering they went to the same bar over and over.
Maybe they took liberties in the name of entertainment but honestly I guess I liked the slow-motion shots of J-Lo entering every room and not a lot else. I find it hard to believe that it's a true story because the only thing truthful about it was that men will pay a lot for company, in the end. For example right now, I am writing this and Caleb thinks I am writing him an email, with links, for my Christmas list.
(Okay, maybe men are a little naive but not to the extent they were in that movie and before you say Bridget you wouldn't know, trust me. I danced. It was brief but I fucking know. Being a sugar baby is much preferred, though actually not a whole lot different in the end. You're still purchased company, but at least the faces are always the same.)