Chick Flicks: the Classics Collection

Now ALL of these are family friendly.

Unless you're a man, in which case, they are detrimental to your Man Card qualifications.

All the Anne of Green Gables from PBS.  From the pigtails to Marilla to Diana to the Lady of Shalot to the raspberry cordial, this movie is perfect.

Oh, Gilbert Blythe...making hearts flutter since 1908...

P.S. Ignore the last one in the series, made years later. It's weird and not based on the real books. Although it probably has some fine moments, I was too confused about the odd plot to notice.

The Colin Firth (what? was there anyone else in this movie? I didn't think so) miniseries, which is about 45 hours long and worth every bit of it, is the quintessential classic. It made Colin Firth...well, Colin Firth. I mean, Mr. Darcy. They are forever linked, let's put it that way.

The purists aren't as fond of this more recent version with Keira Knightley, but I found it perfectly luscious.

Of all the Fred and Ginger classics, this was always my favorite. You have no idea how many images of panty liners I had to wade through to find this photo for you, by the way.

Oh, Jimmy! He made many a fabulous chick flick, but this is my favorite. Hilarious cast and great writing (some days I pretend I'm the writer mom, other days I'm the batty ballerina sister).

As far as my boy, Cary, goes...well, it's a toss up between His Girl Friday and Bringing Up Baby. Both hilarious.  I wuv him ever so much.  And the only reason I'm not including Arsenic and Old Lace is because it deserves a blog of its very own.

And finally, The Thin Man movies:

Myrna Loy and William Powell were awesome. Their witty banter is something I hope for when I'm writing, and also what I base my marriage on. After love and fidelity and Cheez-its, naturally.

So, there you go! A Christmas list the girls in your life will thank you for.

Favorite Chick Flicks

Anna is old enough these days that she can enjoy a good romantic comedy with me. Although not my favorite genre, a good romantic chick flick cannot be beat! They're few and far between - maybe one in forty that trickle through theaters - but here are my (and Anna's) favorites:

This movie has the best cast ever. Bonnie Hunt and James Belushi are hilarious, David and Minnie are just right, and the boys in O'Reilly's (Irish Italian restaurant) are so sweet and funny. The best scene (well, one of them) is this one:

                               "I got sick on Swiss water once..."  

Other best quotes from this gem are:

"Whatever you do, don't shave your legs." "What? Why?" "Because then you won't let it go too far!" "Megan, it's a first date!" "Well, I married a first date, missy, and you know how it is. You're out with a guy, you find him funny and attractive, and suddenly everything he says sounds brilliant. Hairy legs are your only link to reality." "I think you should needlepoint that on a pillow." "I just might! It kept me a virgin till...y'know...whenever."

"What do you do?" "I'm a vet." "Yeah...I didn't go to Nam..."

"I think you should put your shirt on, honey. You're going to ruin Gracie for all other men." 

This one I wouldn't let Anna watch yet, due to the swearing (though it is in a British accent, which is decidedly less vulgar, I think) and the suicide scene (which is heart wrenching, and I love Toni Collette).  But those are some of the reasons I love it so much; it's not shallow. Which brings me to my favorite quotes:

"We thought you had hidden depths." "No, no! You've always had that wrong! I really am this shallow."

"I mean, he is such a SPECIAL boy! And he has a SPECIAL soul! And I've wounded it!"  "Oh please shut up. You're wounding my soul."

"As for his mum, she appears to be clinically insane and wearing some kind of yeti costume..."

I had to include this one even though it's shelved in my brain as a holiday movie and not a chick flick, and never the twain shall meet (is that the right expression?) because it is romantic and it is hysterical.  Best quotes (that my hubby and I quote all year round):

"Mistletoe...MISTLETOE!"

"My childhood was like the Shawshank Redemption except I didn't have some old, warm, black man to share my story with." 

"Yeeeeeeeessssss." 

We'll just call these the Steve Carell collection, shall we? The only one I'd let Anna watch is Dan in Real Life. Why?

Why, because I am the murder of love, that's why!


And we'll call this next one, the John Cusack collection:

Not child appropriate. But it's hard for hired gunmen to control their cursing.

"You must chill...I have taken your keys..."

This Sandra Bullock gem (above)? Or this one (below)?

Both extremely funny and the source of many a quote at our house.

Okay, that's it for now. I may have to make a Part II later. Also, a best of holiday flicks - but that could need its own blog.

What'd I miss?

A Story in Text Speak

My sister and I text a lot. It's imperative because we have ninety-six children between us, so if you do the math, you'll realize that if we want to actually have a conversation, with our vocal cords, we'll have to wait until summer of 2032. 

If ever we die, and people try to recreate our last days using our text messages, no one would make sense of anything, and it would look like we were chubby, alcoholic, hungry, television addicts. Which, we may in fact, be, but there's more to us, darnit! 

Just nothing worth texting about.

For instance, sometimes we'll get a flashback and be reminded of something in our shared childhood. Last night, it was Newsies.

Remember Newsies?

I was watching it last night with Roo, having serious flashbacks to 1992 and my love affair with Christian Bale's hair, who wasn't anybody at the time (him or his hair). 

I'm not kidding. I loved his hair. That floppy boy look. Did it for me every time. 

Hat boy was a cutie patootie, too. So was the Brooklyn blonde boy, also with floppy hair.

Actually, this whole movie was a dream for a 14 year old homeschooled, nerd girl. The entire cast was dreamy boys, with dance moves, brooding eyes, and floppy hair. 

Our text conversation went something like:

Me: I'm watching Newsies! Squeal!

Her: I'm the king of New York!

Me: Didja know the kid who was also in Doogie, who always plays the Brooklyn Italian kid in every movie of that decade, is actually Russian? The things you learn with imdb. (Note: I can no longer watch any movie without looking up the cast on imdb)

Max Casella. Not Italian.

Her: I know, right??

Me: Also, Christian Bale has been happily married to you for years! It's crazy the trivia you can learn.

Her: It's true! We're just so happy together!

Me: I could tell from the red carpet photos. Did I tell you this is back on Broadway?

Her: I'll pack immediately. 

Me: Wait! Is Broadway a real street? So, I like, what, go to 4th and Broadway, or something?

Her: Yes, it's a street, dummy. I puked on it when I was preggers with Aly. I think it sees a lot of puke though, so I fit in.

Me: Wait again. Why is Bill Pullman's character suddenly better looking than Jack Kelly?

Her: Probably because you're not 14 anymore. You could be Christian Bale's mother's character by now.

Me: That was harsh. Also, I refuse to accept your math, homeschooler. Am so only 14. 

Her: I'm the king of New York!

Me: I love Bill Pullman. I've been happily married to him for years.



The End.



P.S.
I could probably do a whole series based on text messages.

P.P.S.
My sister and I are kind of a fount of knowledge when it comes to movie trivia. We're really our own special kind of imdb. Feel free to text us at any time with your movie and television emergencies. We may answer with things like, I really am ruggedly handsome, aren't I? or Bless your beautiful hide! or Come out to the coast...we'll have a few laughs!  but if you're a true fan of quotes, this won't bother you in the slightest.

Quotables

"Nine million terrorists in the world, and I gotta kill one with feet smaller than my sister."

"There is a war on. How is it you are headed west?" 
"Well, we kinda face to the north and real subtle-like turn left."


" Now, come on, get your clothes on, and we'll stroll up to my car and get... Oh, I'm sorry. I'll stroll. You fly."


"They all have husbands and wives and children and houses and dogs, and, you know, they've all made themselves a part of something and they can talk about what they do. What am I gonna say? 'I killed the president of Paraguay with a fork. How've you been?' "


"Say, any of you boys smithies? Or, if not smithies per se, were you otherwise trained in the metallurgic arts before straitened circumstances forced you into a life of aimless wanderin'?"


 It's so much easier to be happy. It's so much easier to choose to love the things that you have, instead of always yearning for what you're missing, or what it is that you're imagining you're missing. It is so much more peaceful. 


" I can't help thinking that at some point someone is going to produce a piglet and we'll all have to chase it."


"What's your talent?"
"Murderer of love."


 "Ring, ring! Who's there? Destiny? I've been expecting your call."


"You can do this, but that would require you to stop snacking on children while they dream."


" Oh, but you can't expect to wield supreme executive power just because some watery tart threw a sword at you!"




Know the answers, do you, you wart hog faced buffoon? Inconceivable!  List em here in the comments and I'll send the winner a Kitchen Aid mixer! *


* Not really. But I will send you a little something, so go on...get your quotes on!

Top Ten

I love Steve - er, Dan.  I mean, Michael Scott.  Whoever.  Whomever.  He's great and I love him.  This movie is flawless and the perfect mix of sweet and serious and hysterically funny.  Ah, Pig-Face Draper and the Murderer of Love.  That'd be a great name for a band actually.

Anyone want to start a band with me?  You have to be Pig-Face...I'll be the Murderer of Love.

On a slightly more serious note (if you consider war and people getting their hearts cut out to be serious.  And I think you do) this is my favorite drama, hands down.  Braveheart is for sure quite worthy too, but this one makes me swoon.  I can hardly believe that villainous Wes Studi went on to play the Sphinx (he's terribly mysterious) in one of our other ridiculous comedy favorites "Mystery Men."  That movie makes me snort with laughter - Mystery Men, not Last of the Mohicans.  Also, Zoolander.  But we were talking about Last of the Mohicans.  It's beautiful and perfect and sweeping and inspirational and luscious.

Speaking of ridiculous comedies...ah, how I love Monty.  This may be the most quotable movie of all time.  What's your favorite color?  Blue - no, wait!  Yellow!  No - AAAGH!  Or how about the whole "She's a witch, burn her!" or my personal favorite, "She turned me into a newt!"  *silence* "I got better..."

One of the best romantic comedies is About a Boy.  It's not strictly comedic which is why I love it.  It's dramatic and has some ugliness and some yuckiness and a twelve year old boy and it has Toni Colette, who, let's face it, is one of the best actresses of all time.  Also, it has funny British isms in it.  That's what's Hollywood romantic comedies are missing:  ugliness and funny British isms.  If they'd just put in ugliness and British isms in a Jennifer Aniston movie, I'd be much more inclined to watch it. 

"Up" is quite possibly the best love story ever made told in eight minutes.  Maybe the best ever.  My kids can watch this everyday and I don't mind.  I can't say the same for any other movie in history.  Sadly, all Gianni wants to watch is Homemade Bound II and all Cora wants to watch is Myth Busters or Man vs Wild and all Anna wants to watch is The Elephant Princess or H2O.   I'm tearing up just thinking about Mr Fredrickson and Ellie.  I want to have twins and name them Mr Fredrickson and Ellie.  Or Keven and Russell.  Seriously!  Babies actually LOOK like Mr Fredrickson, don't they???  Tiny old, cranky men in onesies.  


Would someone please give me a baby, please?  Why do I have to beg?

Ok...ok...make fun of me...whatever!  I love The Mummy.  I said it.  I LOVE cheesey, special effects, adventure movies - so sue me.   If there is a cornball movie entitled something like Killer Crocodiles From Outer Space Who Eat Toes, I will totally stop the DVR from recording the world's best show to watch it.   Also, Brenden Fraser is easy on the eyes.  I may or may not spend the entire flick pretending to be Rachel Weisz.  That's ok, because my hubby spends the entire flick pretending I am Rachel Weisz so it actually works out pretty well. 

Maybe I just love Madeleine Stowe.  Maybe I just love Bruce.  Awww...Brucie. In any case, I love this movie.  Weird and hard to figure out and full of angst and sci-fi craziness, I just love this movie.  

This is my BFF's fave and I am so, so, SO lucky that it is because it's the only non chick flick in her arsenal.  We (me and Mike, her and her hubs) have watched this series so many times in our pajamas and fuzzy socks and brownies and ice cream and telling our kids to go to sleep, that I literally cannot count.  Despite that fact, I still have no flippin idea what the plot is.

I grew up watching old black and whites and I'd probably seen every Hitchcock thriller by my teens, easy.  "Vertigo," "Psycho", "North by Northwest..."    This is most likely my favorite...Jimmy...Grace...it had it all.  Crazy sexy, suspenseful and just fun.  Who is the Hitchcock of our generation?  Maybe M. Night Shyamalan?  What think you?

Can't leave out this.  The movie I have seen more times than any other.  The one that is the most quotable.  It is inconceivably perfect.  I remember sitting in the Elgin Oregon Opera House (a crazy good treat - we never went to see movies in the theater.  Or at home.  Mostly, we made our own...bad acting...bad writing...bad costumes...no Hollywood budget).  Anyhoo.  When Fezzik threw the boulder I threw the popcorn.  I so intimately know the exact second that Fezzik throws that boulder now I would never throw the popcorn, but that's because I have seen The Princess Bride, oh I don't know, four thousand times.  And I love it every time.

Ok, I lied.  I said Top Ten but then I had to come back and round it up to Top Eleven.  O Brother Where Art Thou is heaven in a dvd.  It may even be more quotable than Monty or The Princess Bride...it's a toss up.  It's definitely the wittiest on the list!  You have to watch it at least four or five times to catch all the one liners, so go ahead - start now.  I'll wait.  Come back and tell me what you thought and we can ride off into the sunset, quoting Delmar and Everett and Pete and Big Dan...just DO NOT SEEK THE TREASURE.






Okay, it's not the best list ever and it will change as I drift off to sleep and suddenly think,


Ack!  I can't believe I forgot-


insert favorite movie here-




but these are the ones I would stop on any channel for, any time.  Because there's something special about watching a film on television, isn't there - even if you own said film on dvd or well worn VHS - because others around the world are watching it with you?

Paint, Unicorns, and Drowned Ancestors

I own three cameras (not counting my phone) but I can't make any of them work.  One had its batteries fried inside it (they sorta 'sploded), one is brand spanking new but either its a lemon or the only AAA batteries I can find are dead as a doornail, and the other is the camcorder which also takes still pictures but it needs to be charged and I don't which one of our 3354839.34i87 cords and wires and plug in thingies will do the trick.


So, I can't put up photos of our cute house.  But that's okay because most certainly there'd be a two foot high gremlin with his fingers up his nostrils stealing the camera anyway.


I'm not much of a decorator.  Some women (you know who you are) are really amazing at knowing what to buy, what not to buy, where to put it, what colors to use, etc.  I'm not that woman.  And after our little stint as professional parents came to a close, we were forced to realize we don't own anything.  Here's what we had in June:


each other.


boxes of clothes.


boxes of books.


a Kitchen-aid mixer.


photos.


That's it.  Not a stick of furniture or a wooden spoon with which to stir the spaghetti sauce which is fine actually, because you can't make spaghetti without a pot.


So, little by little, we've managed to get the bare necessities: a sectional couch that looks like everyone else's brown sectional couch except ours is stuffed with spike balls, a free kitchen table with four chairs (count the people in our family and you may see the problem, but hey, the kids have small tushies and can share), a bunk bed, a mattress set, some Goodwill dishes, and an embarrassing number of pizza cutters and ice cream scoops.  Why?  I don't know.  Evidently every time I was in a thrift shop the past three months, I had a panic attack that we would someday have pizza and/or ice cream and have nothing with which to slice/scoop.  So, if the world indeed ends in 2012 like John Cusack said it would, I will at least have my pizza cutters and ice cream scoops.  Cuz there might be zombies or something.  I don't know if there will be, but it's only logical.  I can slice em up and then scoop out their brains.


Anyway, I was supposed to be walking you through our house.  So, back to the decorating.  The only successful thing I've done with decorating is my collection of black and white photos.  It's our Family Wall and it's come with us no matter where we've gone.  I think that sentence is grammatically WRONG, but you get my drift.  Everyone is our relative, some we knew personally, some are much too far gone for us to have known.  One is of Mike's aunt who is standing in front of the projects of NY city where she grew up: a pretty Italian girl with her black hair blowing in the breeze and wearing gloves and a scarf that look fashionable now but were probably all she owned to keep the cold out.  Another favorite is my great, great, great Grandma (totally guessing the number of greats there) Loretta, who rumor has it, died after being baptized in the Columbia River in 1877.  I'd love to know if this family legend has any truth to it and Cora and I plan on doing some genealogy this school year.  Also on the wall: my dad as a chubby toddler, both of my grandpas in their military uniforms, my grandpa as a baby in the arms of his mom who looked like a totally rockin' '20s flapper, my mom and my mom-in-law as curly haired little girls, and plenty of my own kids in black and white. 


We also bought: a hutch that doubles as a tv stand for our wee little tv, and several dressers.  You remember the craigslist dresser, right?  So, being me, I of course had to take as many shortcuts as possible with this thing, in terms of making it presentable.  It is beautiful wood with scalloped edges and just lovely, but some dingbat had painted it diarrhea brown.  No problem, says I, we'll buy the cheapest white paint on the market and that'll be that.  Well, I thought I bought the "paint and primer in one" deal, but I did not, and the diarrhea turned the weirdest shade of pepto bismol pink.  A second coat did not solve this predicament. I was in a pickle.  Also, I was out of paint.  Also, I was in trouble with my mother in law for getting paint on her patio.  That reminds me, if you're reading this, honey, will you go over to your Mom's and clean that up?  Thanks, love muffin!  Anyway, at this point I was really getting annoyed with myself and had to go buy primer.  Then I had to go buy more paint.  Then I was really high on fumes and started painting unicorns and sunbeams everywhere.  Eventually I got my dresser white.  Even though it was for Anna and she was mad that I covered up the pepto pink.  Ungrateful pixie! 


So when you're me, this is how you buy a used dresser:


1.  Risk your life and almost get chopped into pieces by craigslist sellers in remote locations.  Spend $30.


2.  Paint with cheapest paint possible. I bought a small can because I actually had two dressers to paint: $10.  The other one had to be painted because it was owned by smokers.  Smokers who evidently crawled inside their dresser to do their smoking.


3.  Go back to Lowes.


4.  Buy primer. $5.


5.  Whine a little.


6.  Enjoy the fumes.  Hum a little Doors.


7.  Go back to Lowes.  $5.


8.  Finish with spray paint.


Bask in the glory that is your $30 $50 dresser.  Easy as pie!  Except I may or may not have killed a couple brain cells.  Pretty sure I wasn't using them anyway, so no loss.


Also, when you're me you don't own a pie pan and your kids clamor for chicken pot pie and so you make it in a large skillet.  And it looks totally fabulous, like something on the cover of Martha Stewart magazine, and they snarf it all up before you can take a picture.  Which you can't do anyway because of all those cameras you can't figure out.  But it was pretty.  And it was good.  And so was my homemade pumpkin spice coffee creamer.  Also, no photo.


The end.

The Touch of Home

There is something about the first few nights in a new house...  


My favorite sound:


The dishwasher running.  Our new one is evidently made for elves, but no matter.  It purrs like a kitten and I love the sound it makes when the kids go to bed and it's humming in the background.  I really don't know why I love that sound the way I do, it's not even that I hate doing dishes by hand.  I even have a thing for Dawn soap.  I use it whenever I get the chance.  I would totally take a bubble bath in that blue, bubbly stuff.  What is it about a dishwasher though and that sound?  It sounds like security to me.  I know.  Weird.  


My favorite smell:


Popcorn mingling with hot cocoa and stinky kid feet as we all cuddle on the couch together and watch a movie.  I don't even like popcorn or hot cocoa but I do love my kid's stinky feet.


My favorite sight:


Anna's hair all bundled up on the top of her head, Cora's long legs stretched out over way more than her fair share of the couch, and Gianni passed out halfway through Mars Needs Moms, his sticky hands dangling over the side where Milo lays, licking the butter off his fingertips, my hands anchored on his little butt to keep him from falling off, his Buddha belly sticking out from his muscle shirt.


My favorite touch:


My feet on Hubby's lap.


Actually, my feet (one foot, I exaggerate) hurt.  I dropped a rather large picture frame and it stabbed me right on top of my Hobbit foot.  Now I have a crater on it and it hurts like the dickens.  I don't know how I will skip and frolic and chasse and leap and pirouette with dem ballerina babies tomorrow.  I'll have to distract them with fairy wands and flower crowns so they don't mutiny.


My favorite idea:


That we are all together again, all five of us, whole and happy, broke but fed, missing our five boys and Marie, tired but blessed; broken picture frames, sore feet and all.  

A Post About Absolutely Nothing

Have you ever thought you didn't like something but then tried it again, after like, I don't know, 32 years and say,

'What have I been missing?'

That happened recently with both cocktail sauce (come to Mamma, yummy spicy deliciousness, come to Mamma!) and blueberries, which frankly, I still don't love and adore the same way I do, say, canned 'shrooms, but are in fact, quite nice. 

I remember eating a sundried tomato at the age of about 12 and having to discreetly spit it out in the trash.  It was that horrifyingly awful.  Now I could snarf an entire basket.  Pound?  Bushel?  Peck?  A hug around the neck?

Potato chips and cake and butter.  All I most likely would have loved all along but didn't eat for ten years due to being a neurotic ballerina.  Neurotic ballerinas don't eat those things.  Actually, not true, most do but then there are things going on later in the dressing room involving vomiting and since I was certainly not ever going to go that route, I elected not to eat them period. 

Someone just today asked me,

'Hey, can you still do the ballerina?'

I think he meant 'can I still dance ballet?'  But it sorta sounded like doing the macarena and I had to stifle a giggle.

I cannot really do the ballerina these days but I can still do a mean macarena.

You will never convert me to a love of mayo and sweet pickles though so don't even try.  Also anything with fake sugar.  Or cancer sprinkles as I like to call em.  Which will make people who love their sweet and low think I am bashing them for their flavor lifestyle of choice when I am not and you probably shouldn't listen to me because I also am of the opinion that sunscreen more than likely gives you skin cancer.  That being said, I am not a doctor, I just play one on blogger.

Speaking of doctors, oh my dear, dear Dr Shepherd, I am losing hope that I will ever finish Lost.  It sits, gathering dust on top my entertainment center, where I almost, practically, just about get to attempt to try to start watching it.  I remember when I could watch a 90 minute movie in, get this, 90 minutes!  92 if there was a need for a potty break.  Now a 90 minute movie takes me approximately 4 months.  I'm not the world's best mathematician, but I am pretty certain that a long running television show will be fully finished and enjoyed by yours truly at about the same time I am a withered old crone chasing young children off my lawn and feeding my 14 cats and filing my bunions on my wrinkly age-spotted feet.

I actually had this experience just last month (not the bunion filing one, the one where I attempt to watch a whole movie in  one two three   four days.)  I borrowed Leap Year from my dear pal, Mariah, who is the queen of chick flicks, and I was quite excited about the eye candy boy with the irish accent watching a movie all by my lonesome, one that didn't involve The iHannah Montana of Waverly Place with Deadliest Warrior VS Food.  It took me four painful, angst filled days where I was sneaking off to the laptop for three minutes here and there to hit Play only to be met with a desperate holler from some juvenile delinquent who wanted my undivided attention.  To be honest, I am not even a big fan of the chick flick and I didn't even particularly adore this one, but it was a point of honor suddenly that I get to finish this darn movie if it killed me.  At the end of the four days when I was stewing in frustration and determined to finally reach the credits and I knew, gosh dang it, I was only ten minutes away from my typical Hollywood ending, Mike broke into my bedroom sanctuary. 

'Leave me alone!'  I said with all the maturity I could muster.

'Whatcha watching?'

'Go away. I'm not here. I'm in Ireland with Cutie McWhatshisface.'

'Ok.  Just gonna make a phone call.  Right here.  By your ear.  With my bass, opera trained voice.  Talking to my mom.  Just pretend like I'm not here.'

'AAAAAAAAAAGH!'

The end.



 

More autumnal movies

You are so correct, my loverly five readers!  Add em on, girls:

The Nightmare Before Christmas.  Very conservative Christians and baptists probably don't watch this one...evidently I am on the edge of the flock as usual.  A good flick for Gianni to watch before bed, because Fern Gully is, in his words, 'too scary.'

The Ghost and Mr Chicken.  Come on, who doesn't LOVE Don Knotts?  If you can get past the whole murdered lady with scissors in her throat part (my girls can't) you'll find this a very fun movie indeed.

Beetlejuice.  Love the waiting room.

It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown.  Nothin' brings back childhood like Charlie!

Murder, He Says.  Sometimes (ok all the time) when my mom and little sis get together, a lot of movie quotes come out of our mouths.  And no one gets the references really.  So they just smile and nod.  But if you watch this movie, you too will have tons of one liners and you can join in our witty banter!  You know you want to!  And pass the grits with the gravy, would ya?

The Others.  When I wake up in the middle of the night cuz something went bump, this is the movie that starts playing in my head.  I squeeze my eyes shut and try not to think of creepy children.  It doesn't work, which is the sign of a really good scary movie.

The Blair Witch Project.  Sure, you all who saw it the week AFTER it was released and knew all the hype, you can go ahead and scoff.  Try going on opening night when you don't know what the heck you're seeing and see if you don't go home and sleep with a shotgun next to your bed.

The Changeling.  Remember the ball bouncing down the stairs?

The Sixth Sense.  I have a kindred spirit with Bruce Willis in this movie.  I have entire days too when no listens to a word I say or acknowledges my existence and I wonder if I too, am dead and don't realize it.  It would explain things.