Going the Distance 2010

Reel reviews for real people

Plot: Erin’s (Drew Barrymore) wry wit and unfiltered frankness charm newly single Garrett (Justin Long) over beer, bar trivia and breakfast the next… Erin’s (Drew Barrymore) wry wit and unfiltered frankness charm newly single Garrett (Justin Long) over beer, bar trivia and breakfast the next morning. Their chemistry sparks a full-fledged summer fling, but neither expects it to last once Erin heads home to San Francisco and Garrett stays behind for his job in New York City. But when six weeks of romping through the city inadvertently become meaningful, neither is sure they want it to end. And while Garrett’s friends Box (Jason Sudeikis) and Dan (Charlie Day) joke about his pre-flight calorie-cutting and his full-time relationship with his cell phone, they don’t like losing their best drinking buddy to yet another rocky romance. At the same time, Erin’s high-strung, overprotective married sister, Corinne (Christina Applegate), wants to keep Erin from heading down an all-too-familiar road. But despite the opposite coasts, the nay-saying friends and family, and a few unexpected temptations, the couple just might have found something like love, and with the help of a lot of texting, sexting and late-night phone calls, they might actually go the distance.–© Warner Bros

Rating: R for sexual content including dialogue, language throughout, some drug use and brief nudity

Genre: Romance/Comedy

Starring: Drew Barrymore, Justin Long, Jason Sudeikis, Christina Applegate

Director: Nanette Burstein

Running time: 1:37

Kate says – 2 stars “There are a lot of things that I really like about this movie. I like that this is a romantic comedy that doesn’t resort to the use of typical romantic comedy cliches. I like that the story focuses on both the male and female perspective, rather than the usual this is story about a girl who happens to have a boyfriend who is relegated to the role of an extra, or visa-versa. I like that the characters talk to each other and have conversations like people do in real life. I like Drew Barrymore and Justin Long in these rolls. They are comfortable with each other and for once the off screen chemistry of a real life couple translates to the on screen characters. Here’s what I don’t like about Going the Distance. It is raunchy…Judd Apatow raunchy. The movie has extremely racy and sexually explicit dialogue. The language is strong and crude. (Think Knocked-Up and 40-Year-Old Virgin.) It’s too vulgar for my taste, which unfortunately spoiled what could have been, for me, a great entry in the romantic comedy genre.”

This week’s recipes is sure to please, and with only 4 ingredients and just minutes of cooking time, we’re sure you’ll be adding this one to your favorites list.

Marshmallow Caramel Krispies

Ingredients:

• 1 can sweetened condensed milk

• 1 bag caramels, unwrapped

• 1/2 C. butter

• 1 bag marshmallows

Directions:

1. Put unwrapped caramels in pan. Add sweetened condensed milk.

2. Add butter and melt over medium heat, stirring constantly.

3. Remove from heat. Using a toothpick (or fondue fork like I did), skewer marshmallow and dip into melted caramel mixture.

6. Let excess drip off, then coat completely in rice krispies.

7. Let cool on waxed paper. (I put mine in the refrigerator for about 15 minutes.)

Enjoy!

Other recipes from Liz and Kate

Just so we all know where I stand, my idea of travel involves stopping only for gas and potty breaks when absolutely necessary, eating in the car and holding the pedal to the metal. I don’t screw around because I want to get there.

Our journey began at Cracker Barrel, 7 a.m. Thursday. Except that Colton and I were the only ones there. The men were running late – and it was almost 9 a.m. before we got on the road.

An hour later, we stopped to get a prescription filled. Are you kidding me?? Instead of the “other driver” getting gas while we waited for 30 minutes, we stopped at a gas after leaving the drug store. Unfortunately for me, there was a caravan of old cars at the gas station, diverting the attention of the three men, who snapped photos of the cars and struck up conversations with the owners of said cars.

Enter exasperation.

After dragging them away from the “car show”, we hit the road, having traveled less than 100 miles in 3 1/2 hours. Please note that in typical man form, the men were leading the way. Which gets worrisome when, having finally hit cruising speed, the truck I was following takes a quick right on the interstate across one of those gravel cut throughs, marked “Emergency Use Only.”

Enter cell phone call no. 1:

“What are you people doing?”

“Did you see the beagle in the median? We’re gonna check it out – make sure the dog is OK.”

Don’t get me wrong. I really don’t mind my friends playing Florence Nightingale. But didn’t we have somewhere to be? And weren’t we in the middle of nowhere? What was the plan if the dog had been hurt? Was the trip  turning into 3 1/2 men, a beagle and me?

“If they want to catch the dog, they’re gonna have to run,” said Colton, who was equally as frustrated as his mother. They didn’t catch the dog. In fact they never got within 30 feet of it. So, after another delay of about 20 minutes, we took off again, having accomplished absolutely nothing.

I counted no fewer than five more stops that day – one for dinner at the BW3′s wings joint.

It was getting dark when we finally reached DC, but at least my GPS showed 15 minutes until we’d arrive at the hotel. Except that there’d been a wreck about a mile ahead of us, causing an hour’s delay. Shoot me now.

We finally arrived, tired and grumpy, but glad to be out of the car and equally glad the return trip was going to be the furthest thing from my mind, for the time being. Our visit was nothing short of phenomenal, meeting and surpassing all expectations. So maybe there was hope for the drive home.

Or maybe not, as the men’s GPS sent us on a series of U-Turns and backtracking on some of the weirdest roads I’ve ever been on. And my GPS had gone from having us back home at 4:17 to having us home at 5:59. Which is when I made the cell phone call.

“What in the Sam Hill are you people doing?”

“My GPS won’t put us on a major highway.”

Thankfully, I’m pretty good at knowing where I need to be. Plus which, my GPS was working just fine, thank you.

“Take the lead, Mom,” pleaded Colton.

I suspect those words were the smartest words offered, where traveling was concerned.

“Follow me,” I said to the men. Luckily they did. But not before making a request.

“If you see a Cracker Barrel, take the exit – we’re starved.”

What they didn’t realize, was that I was now in the lead. It was a new day of road travel that was gonna mean stopping only for gas and potty breaks when absolutely necessary, eating in the car and holding the pedal to the metal. This time it was gonna be all me – and of course, 3 1/2 men.

-Liz

As terrible as these beauty product descriptions are, at least they identify an actual scent. I have noticed recently that many products have names that are not scents at all and do absolutely nothing to inform you what the product is supposed to smell like. Bath and Body Works is one of the worst offenders. I found a new scent there that I actually really like, but the name, oh the name. Black Amethyst. Are you kidding me? Seriously? Now, I’ve never sniffed an amethyst, but I imagine if they smell like anything, they smell like minerals or rocks. Not good. And for another, amethysts are purple, not black. I can’t even connect that title to the scent in some abstract way, like the way the sunshine might smell yellow. Even as I read the back of the bottle, all I learn is that Black Amethyst is a “sexy blend of spice.” Well, what does that mean?

I think a fair requirement is that at least one word in the title must be something related to a scent. So if you’ve got a coconut scented product, please put coconut in the title. I don’t care if you want to add something dumb to it like Coconut Oasis or Dreamy Coconut Swirl, or whatever. Just tell me what I’m smelling!

So maybe I’ve added another totally meaningless pet peeve to my long list, but there is a practical reason for my annoyance too. If I’m looking for a new scent, and I know that I like honeysuckle, then the only way to find it is if the title includes honeysuckle. I’m not about to smell hundreds of perfumes till my nose is dry and my head is pounding just to try to sniff out that undercover honeysuckle. If your honeysuckle perfume is called Springtime Floral or Garden Fantasy, I’ll never find it. I’ll give up and go somewhere that uses proper scent names.

Here are some more real (and terrible) scent names:

Sensual Amber- How can amber, which is a color, be sensual, or have a scent?

Butterfly Flower- What in the world is a butterfly flower, and what exactly are butterflies supposed to smell like?

Twilight Woods- All we need is another product trying to associate itself with Twilight. And wouldn’t those woods smell like blood?

Moonlight Path­- Depending on where this path is, this could mean some very different things.

Dark Kiss- Bath and Body Works newest scent. I wonder what the dark smells like.

Dancing Waters- I’m pretty sure if you wanted to smell like water, you could just splash in some from your tap.

P.S. I Love You- This is a sick joke. Is this really named after that weepy chick-flick?

Sea Island Cotton- Does cotton grow on islands? And aren’t all islands in the sea? Plus, cotton usually just smells like whatever laundry detergent you use to wash it.

Other guest rants by Ryane

My Head is Going to Explode.  Literally!

The Magic of Disneyland

When Holidays Collide

Just not today. I need a bit of recouping time. Except that I’m not about to get it. Because Kate and I have a cookbook that’s going to press tomorrow (that’s right, tomorrow – so you guys can get your hands on it in time for Christmas! We are so thoughtful like that, aren’t we?)

The fact that seemingly all our clothes are dirty is something I’m gonna need to address today, too.  So today is pretty much a catch-up/full-steam-ahead day. But that’s okay – it’s quite exciting!

Meanwhile, I’ll be back in the groove in time for Wednesday’s rant, which you won’t want to miss – especially if you’ve ever wondered what it would be like to take a 12-hour drive in two vehicles with three and a half men. I think we know where this is going…

So I’ll talk to you then. Wish us luck over the next couple of days and watch for our cookbook ad, which, with any luck, will be up on the site later this week.

-Liz

We topped off the drive with a wait in a line of cars in a parking lot adjacent to campus, waiting for our turn to get to the dorms, unload and move out. It was quite a site to behold, as ROTC members and anyone ‘lucky enough’ to have been part of early move-in converged on the cars, grabbing boxes and lamps and chairs and flat-screens. (Who knew so many kids came to college with a new flat screen?) Within 15 minutes, our cars were empty (we had two – filled to the brim, I might add.)

The student helpers looked weary (well, except for the ROTC  guys, who never show a sign of fatigue). I’d have been a bit weary too, if forced to walk to the top floor a zillion times. Imagine my sigh of relief, as I remembered my daughter was on the second floor…

Once we’d gotten all the boxes in the room, it was clear we were going to be several steps ahead of many others – her roommate, a member of the band, had moved in five days earlier, so half the stuff was good to go.

As we stood in the half-done room, covered in a sea of new boxes, suitcases, crates and, uh, stuff, Hannah’s first order of business was to finally put the sheets and comforter she’d gotten for Christmas on her bed. Oh sure, she’d forgotten what they looked like, but she’d learned well. Make the bed first!

Then she just stood in the room, looking a bit lost, not knowing what to do. So I opened the suitcases and we put away clothes, put together lamps and a TV stand and TV, organized her shower bucket, and made quite a bit of  progress. Before long, we’d finished everything except the job of decorating. I figured that was something she and her roommate should do on their own, so my job was finished. 

But it didn’t feel like it was time to leave (or maybe I just didn’t want to…). My adrenaline rush was slowing down to a drip, as excitement for her was replaced with sadness for myself. My baby girl was no longer a baby girl. She was a college girl, now.

I had visions of her calling all weekend, filling me in on her latest discovery on campus, her tales of buying text books and attending “Welcome Freshmen!” parties, and left her to her new adventure.

But the phone was silent, as if all of a sudden I was a distant memory. It wasn’t until last night that I got a series of texts. Granted, none were complete sentences, just phrases like: things are great, lovin’ it! so busy – sororities!

But I guess that’s just how it goes. She’s a college girl, now.

-Liz

Now I’ll tell you that in years past at the mere mention of demolition derby time approaching, my children’s reactions would range from hysterical laughing, to sad looks of pity reserved only for parents who have obviously lost their marbles. But each year through a bit of bribery, some coercion, and perhaps a little white lie or two, we somehow manage to drag a few new kicking and screaming kids with us. And each year by the end of the smash ‘em crash ‘em night, they have been desensitized and brain washed into becoming demolition derby converts also. It’s not my proudest accomplishment, but it helps me to feel better about my own once a year white trashiness.

This year, I set my heights high in bringing yet another child into the demolition derby realm, my 23 year old soon to be high school English teacher daughter. Let me tell you a little bit about this daughter. Her idea of a fun, light-hearted summer read would be any proper English novel that could star Emma Thompson in the lead role of the movie version. She is a tree hugger, save the whales, recycler.

She folds her tee shirts in such a way that the pictures face out, and then places them in her drawers in a color coded fashion so she always knows the exact placement of each and every shirt. In fact when I called her just now to ask her to snap a pic of her drawer and send it to me, I interrupted a movie she was watching with her roommate. Was it some silly girlie romantic comedy that typical 23 year old girls would be watching? I think you already know the answer to that. It was a movie about Tolstoy. Need I say more?

I finally wore her down, though,  and she agreed to go, but only as a mocking haughty observer, not as an active participant in the demolition derby fun. She swore not to have a good time, and the entire first round of smashing and bashing she held fast to that promise.

She cringed at every crashing sound, worried that the drivers would be injured, and looked with disdain at the cheering derby fans. By round two, she didn’t seem quite so disturbed about the whole thing, and by the third round, she had succumbed. She was shouting, cheering  and even fist pumping along with the rest of us.  She experienced her first ever white trash moment and she had embraced her inner redneck. Ahhh…another success. Another kid brought down to my level.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with the whole sport of demolition derby, and I use the term “sport”  loosely,  let me just explain what happens.  A bunch of old beat up clunkers with paint jobs courtesy of a few cans of spray paint, enter an arena barricaded with concrete barriers and then proceed to crash and bash into each other.

The top few cars in each heat move on to a grand finale round where they pummel each other until there is only one car left running. The winner gets bragging rights and enough prize money to go home and fix up his/her car to do it all over again.

I found myself a real bonafied demolition derby expert on the internet at www.hartin.com who accurately describes it as,  “Kind of like a WWE cage match, when you think about it. There are just a few rules in the interest of safety and fair play, although in my experience they tend to be enforced just about as rigorously as in the WWE.”

Here’s a clip of the final championship round at this year’s Utah County Fair. Embrace the white trash in yourself..take a look. No one will even have to know.

Will I be returning next year?  Absolutely. Will my English teacher daughter be returning? For certain, and maybe I’ll drag a few more of my kids along as well.  Come on…stranger things have happened.

Case in point? It’s killed once. Chances are, according to some, it will attack again.

Surveillance cameras snapped this shot a few weeks back, so take a look and see what you think. Cat, lion, cougar? Housecat? Killer at large?

The first victim was an 85-pound collie – attacked not once, but twice. The dog died nine days after the second attack. Many community members fear the next victim will be a child. But, in a effort to keep the county calm, the search for what I now refer to as man-bear-pig has ended.

In fact, many believe this is nothing more than someone’s pet cat. But the collie’s owner would beg to differ.  And it might bear noting that the collie’s owner is, in fact, a preacher. And surely if anyone can be trusted, it’s him. Right?

Alas, it appears the world – much less the residents of Harrison County – may never know.

But if you hear a meow/roar and find banana peels in your yard, I’d refrain from calling, “Here, kittie, kittie.”

-Liz

Assuming you have four people in it, cranking away as needed, you should be able to avoid being rear-ended, reaching speeds as high as 60 mph (I wonder if you have to be going downhill?) And if you’re going uphill? Well, you’ll be lucky to get the speed to 30 mph. So even if it’s not Sunday, you too can be a Sunday driver every day of the week with this little gem.

If only one person is behind the wheel, though, expect to rely on the auxiliary electric battery power. Or maybe before this thing hits the market, the guy will wise up and cut holes in the floorboard for foot power…

Anywho, without further ado, here it is:

See those handles sticking up? Those are the cranks that move up and down in a rowing motion. Just pretend like you’re on a railroad track in a hand car. But I digress.

Before you panic about the open-air design, a roof will likely be available on commercial models when this baby rolls off the assembly line next year. Some models may even have a GPS. I say, why bother? As slow as you’ll be going, you’ll have plenty of time to look at a map.

Ah, but the maker claims to have reached two goals with the launch of this product. Not only is he saving the planet – no emissions – he’s also fighting that pesky obesity problem facing the world. Fork over $15,500 and you can join him.

I know you’re curious, asking if this guy has other product ideas floating around. Why yes he does! Here’s one – a two-person mobile power station that folds into a suitcase (it’s part of his 200-year business plan).

And now you know…

-Liz

I confess to being a fan of the Food Network show, Diners, Drive-ins and Dives with Guy Fieri. Really, who doesn’t love a good old-fashioned, high-fat, carb-laden meal from a hole-in-the-wall greasy spoon diner once in a while?

A few months ago while on our family vacation, we took a day off from Disneyland to slow down with a relaxing trip to Ventura, California. When lunchtime came, much to my family’s chagrin I steered them past all the standard recognizable fast food joints, past all the nice clean sit-down, waitress type restaurants and right down South Seaward Avenue to Seaward Fish and Chips. I think I can safely say this is the kind of diner/dive Guy Fieri would love.

It’s close enough to the beach that there is sand scattered along the the sidewalk outside. It’s old, tiny and quirky. The walls and ceiling are decorated with real dollar bills. And the fish and chips are to die for!

How did I find this place so far off the beaten path? Well, when it comes to planning our family vacations, I become a little kooky with my need to be organized and have everything planned out. I happened to pick up an issue of Family Fun Magazine (May 2010) that had an article on Family Getaways and guess what was featured??? Yep  Seaward Fish and Chips. I saw this picture and knew that I wanted it to be MY family sitting on the porch of this fish and chip stand.

So me being the mom and all…well, I made it happen. Moms get to be in charge of stuff like that.

First of all, let me tell you that the fish and chips in this place are the best I have ever eaten. That’s because the owner (Tim) of Seaward Fish and Chips has his own fishing boat (Lady Raquel)  which he takes out  daily (I’m guessing) to bring in the freshest and most delicious fish. (That part I am not guessing about.)

Second of all, the atmosphere of this place is beyond quirky. The walls and ceiling are covered with dollar bills decorated by customers and held up by push pins.

Do you love the bizarre-ness of this as much as I do?

So we did what any self respecting fish and chip lovers would do…we pulled out our dollar bills and went to town decorating with the markers provided by the cute high school aged girl behind the counter.  (Is this even legal?)

Here’s my Coffee Break with Liz and Kate dollar and my mucho delicious fish and chips.  (Okay, so I never said I was an artist.)

And here’s the placement of my dollar, on the right wall up by the ceiling.

So here is my challenge to you, dear readers. Take a trip off the beaten path. Try something you’ve never tried. Eat somewhere you normally wouldn’t eat. Order something you wouldn’t normally order…take an adventure Kate/Guy style.

And if any of you happen upon Seawards Fish and Chips in Ventura, Ca., pull out that old dollar bill, decorate it,  stick it up next to mine, snap a pic and email it to lizandkate@live.com. I dare you…