The Literate Kitty

If there’s one thing every unattached person, everywhere, dreads around the holidays, it’s being grilled by one’s family (friends, coworkers, nosy gas-meter readers, etc.) about Why Aren’t You in a Relationship… and schooled in What You Need to Do to Get in One (because everyone who's in a relationship thinks they're experts on that , of course).   [Oh, and if you, dear reader, are one of those happily—or even not -so-happily—married, partnered, or otherwise-coupled folks, engaged in the relentless hounding of all the singletons you know, listen up: No matter if still-single, newly-single, or single-by-choice, we're  well aware of the fact that we’re alone; many of us would really like to find The One; and all the pressure you’re putting on us? Not. Helping.] At least now, though, all those single-(and-not-lovin’-it) people have two brilliant seasons of Home for Christmas (or Hjem Til Jul , in its native Norwegian), now streaming on Netflix, to take away some of the ...

You know how “there’s a fine line between [blank] and [blank]” (insert whatever you’re comparing, here)? Well, for me, there’s a mighty fine line between the right amount of over-the-top whatever , and going so far over that something that the point ends up being lost in a sea of so much stupidity (confusion, disbelief, etc).   Enter Wayne (which apparently came out nearly two years ago, back when YouTube was dipping its toes into original content, but—more importantly—got picked up recently by Amazon, and thus brought to our collective consciousness), from the writers behind none other than Deadpool . (Look, if Deadpool ’s not your bag, I get it , but for me? Seeing that in the tagline made it an “okay, I’m gonna start watching this  tonight ” kinda thang.) [Now is when (you either skip this aside down Memory Lane, or stick with me for a hot minute) I should prolly mention that there was actually one other thing in the ad that grabbed me, even before I saw the blurb listin...

  Let’s get one thing straight from the get-go: I am— in no way, shape, or form —a big romance fan. I mean, yes, sure— absolutely!— I appreciate the heck out of sweet romantic gestures … IRL(!) … but as far as the written word goes, or on the big screen? Yeah, not so much. (Clever-smart rom-coms being not the norm and not straight-up romance, capice? ) So, why do I need to tell you all this, you might ask? (Fair question.) Because I’m about to review an all-about-the-romance film, and it’ll be helpful if you know where I’m comin’ from, right off the bat. (Trust me, this will matter, later on…) _______________ Normally, I wouldn’t choose to watch a) most Lifetime movies [ which isn’t meant as a diss; I just know wherein my heart and soul lie, and it ain’t here ], or b) a Christmas romance flick, anywhere, anytime. And yet, I find myself watching… precisely that. (Life: it’s a funny ol’ thing, eh?) Anyway, for reasons , my viewing matter one night turned out to be the premi...