Only a few more days until the girls come back. Thank God. The joys of limitless free time have continuously diminished to the point that I am actually looking forward to waking up at 6:30 again every morning to take care of two irritable kids. And when I go for a run I almost want to take the double stroller with me just for nostalgia’s sake.

That said, I will miss all this quality movie-watching time I have had in their absence. Here’s the latest list:

The Tree of Life: I know Terrance Malick films aren’t for everyone, but I haven’t seen anything this ambitious, profound, and moving this year. That’s quite the trifecta. This should also finally shut up all those haters who say Brad Pitt can’t act. Reminder: If you do see The Tree of Life there will be no refunds. Grade: A

Shame: Like The Tree of Life, certainly not for everyone. Shame is one of those ultra-rare films that receives an NC-17 rating from the MPAA and doesn’t fight the designation. It is about a 30-ish yuppie in New York who is suffering from sex addition. Though that affliction often causes snickers, I don’t think anyone who watches Shame will regard it lightly ever again. Powerful stuff. Grade: A-

Weekend: Two young gay men hook up in a club and after a drunk (seemingly) one-night stand, spend the rest of the weekend getting to know each. Sounds slight, and the film is light on plotting, but this is one of those films that seem so real and unrehearsed that you feel like you are eavesdropping on two people having a date. Thankfully, those two people are really interesting. Good movie. Grade: B+

Certified Copy: This is kind of like the inverse of Weekend: a middle-aged couple, almost insufferably sober, travel around Tuscany, hoping to connect but too often just bickering. Whereas Weekend is mostly about two people deciding whether they want to be together, Certified Copy is mostly about two people deciding whether they want to stay together. As someone in the beginning stages of marriage, this kind of serves as a cautionary tale, but also leaves the impression that no matter how strained things get, hope is not lost. Grade: A-

Moneyball: I seem to be one of the few people who didn’t really like Moneyball. It’s probably because I read the book and thought that so many of the interesting parts didn’t make it into the film. The movie also presents an over-simplified, almost misleading, depiction of Billy Beane’s theories. Not a bad film by any means–it’s touching and funny in parts–but I think I just liked the book too much to submit to this much-diluted version. Grade: B-

The Perfect Host: It is so nice to see Niles Crane (er, David Hype Pierce) again. You can’t really discuss much of the plot of The Perfect Host without giving away some good twists, but seeing Niles play a (potentially) homicidal maniac is not to be missed. It’s a fun movie, but starts ridiculous and unfortunately keeps on getting more ridiculous to the point of absurdity. Grade: B-

As a man without a family for a few more weeks, I am reacquainting myself with the novel concept of free time. In addition to several personal- and home-improvement projects, I am trying to watching as many of the quality films released in 2011 as I can. After reading so many Top 10 Movies of 2011 lists I think it would be a fun project to make one of my own.

Anyway, here’s what I’ve seen over the past two weeks or so:

The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo: This should have been a 13-part mini-series, not a movie. Way too much plot for even the two-and-a-half hour running time. And I was not buying the romance bits. Still, Rooney Mara was great as Lisbeth and David Fincher movies are always great to look at, if nothing else. Grade: B-

Beginners: Probably the most touching movie I’ve ever seen that features a talking dog. The half of the movie about a man coming out in his late 70s was hilarious and heartbreaking. The bits about his son and his manic pixie dream girl was way too precious. Still, solid movie overall. Grade: B+

Horrible Bosses: Ridiculous plot, even for an absurd comedy. But there are a lot of jokes, and thankfully most of them worked. Grade: B

Crazy Stupid Love: A romantic comedy that manages to be both sweet and funny. And provides further proof that Ryan Gosling can do no wrong. Unfortunately, the nonsensical subplot with the babysitter and love-struck son is creepy and yet still uninteresting. If not for that, this could have been one of the best films of the year. Grade: B+

Another Earth: For a film with a budget of about $10, this wasn’t bad. It’s a ponderous film that doesn’t engage the audience too much, but still resonates. Grade: B-

Margin Call: Good dramatization of the beginning of the fall of Lehman Brothers. Answers some questions, but raises plenty of others. The casting of Penn Badgley and Demi Moore are distracting, but everyone else is in top form. Grade: B+

Bad Teacher: Does not compare well with the much superior Bridesmaids and Horrible Bosses. The plot is just as ridiculous as those two, but not nearly as funny. The waste of uber-talented Justin Timberlake is especially galling: Grade: C-

Warrior: This film has no right to be so good. It’s contrived and glorifies a sport that seems designed to maximize concussions. Still, strong performances from Joel Edgerton and Tom Hardy, along with some innovate directing, elevate the material. I can’t believe I would champion an MMA film, but if you aren’t moved by this movie you have no soul. Grade: B+

An update on my effort to get through all the (good) cinema of 2011 while unencumbered by wife and kids; the rest of the films I was able to watch this weekend:

Poetry: This is a foreign film about an old woman struggling to write her first poem, which is probably the kind of story that gives studio executives nightmares. But it’s actually good. Really good. Grade: A-

The Future: Cool movie, but a little too quirky to be great. It’s tough to get invested in a film where nothing emotional is ever at stake. Grade: B

Pearl Jam Twenty: The first half reminded me why Pearl Jam is such a great band. The second half reminded me why I haven’t listened to a Pearl Jam album from start to finish in about 10 years. Grade: B

So all the girls are still out in Hawaii and will be flying from there to Japan tomorrow. I’m by myself in California for the next four days. Like I expected, it has been a relaxing few days without them, but like clockwork, after about 48 hours I’ve begun to miss the screaming, diaper-changing, and toy-kitchen baking. It didn’t really get to me until I was shopping for groceries and saw all these families walking around, and I realized my family was abut 3,000 miles away.

That said, I will be try to make the most of this solitary time to myself. Today I’ve already gone for an eight-mile run, put together an earthquake kit for Karina’s school (that was uplifting), finished most of my holiday shopping (I hope), and reacquainted myself with Netflix.

I had discontinued my Netflix account shortly after Riona was born and I realized I had about negative two hours of free time a day. But now that I am flying solo I will try to catch up on contemporary cinema and see how many movies from 2011 I can watch over the next few weeks. So far, including the films I watched during my flight to/from Hawaii, here’s what I’ve seen:

Contagion: Not bad, but this really should have been a mini-series. Too many characters keeps the story from being compelling. And Jude Law was pretty lame. Grade: B -

Drive: Gets big style points, but the story didn’t make sense in a number of places. Great soundtrack. Very good movie that could have been great. Grade: B +

Rise of the Planet of the Apes: Surprisingly not horrible. Wish it could have been darker; the film seemed to strain to get the PG-13 rating. Grade: B-

The Arbor: One of the best films of the year. Never seen anything like this before. Grade: A

When I was 13 I spent three weeks in Australia. It was an exciting and scary trip, and I carried a walkmen with me just about everywhere I went. I only listed to two things: “(Don’t Fear) The Reaper” by Blue Oyster Cult and R.E.M.’s Automatic for the People.

When I came home I was jet lagged and up all night for about two weeks. This was partially because I returned during the 1992 Summer Olympics and we had purchased the ill-fated Olympics Triplecast, so I got to watch uninterrupted coverage of the shot put while everyone else was sleeping. For some reason, that is like the coolest thing in the world to a 13-year-old.

Or at least, second coolest to eating a kangaroo burger. But I had just done that.

I remember being wide awake at four in the morning with not much to do but listen to Automatic over and over and over again. It was the first time I had actually liked an album, instead of just a catchy single, like Billy Joel’s “We Didn’t Start the Fire.” I guess I had dug “Weird” Al Yankovic, but R.E.M. was real music. Automatic for the People was my gateway.

In high school I devoured R.E.M.’s back catalogue, as well as the new releases Monster  (which I will still defend to this day) and New Adventures in Hi-Fi (which I poured over like a Bible scholar studies the Dead Sea Scrolls). In college I saw Up and Reveal as small–yet still intriguing–setbacks.

Then came Around the Sun. That just sucked.  Accelerate was okay, but I couldn’t talk myself into the hype that this was a return to form. It got to the point that I was truly happy that Collapse Into Now wasn’t embarrassing. It’s actually good. But I still haven’t listened to the whole thing through more than two or three times.

And now R.E.M. is no more. I think in high school I actually worried about R.E.M. breaking up in the same way a parent worries about the safety of their child. Now, I find my feelings mixed. To extend a ridiculous analogy, it’s similar to what I imagine it feels like when a loved one passes away after a long, debilitating illness (though miniaturized by about a thousand). I am sad, but also relieved that I won’t have to hear any more embarrassing songs like “The Worst Joke Ever” or “Every Day is Yours to Win” (God, just look at those titles).

Now, instead, I can focus on the good times. And there are plenty of those. Just listening to “Driver 8″ or “Texarcana” or “Tongue” brings back so many memories.

In announcing the split, bassist Mike Mills wrote that “it was a hell of journey.” As someone who came of age with R.E.M., that just about sums it up for me, too.

So Karina turned three last Saturday. Every year her parties seem to be getting bigger and bigger, to the point that we had some 80 or so guests this time. On top of that, there’s Kazumi’s stress of putting on a party commensurate with the love she feels for her daughter. That’s not easy.

It was a good time, but we all got a little sick afterward, and now we’re already planning next year’s party. But this time we’re not going to try to top the previous year’s, but instead find a way to have a stress-free birthday. This may be a mission:impossible, but we’ve got 360-some days to figure it out.

Oh yeah, then there’s also Riona’s party in December. Oy.

“No!” she shouted.

I tried a different song.

“No!”

And another song—

“No!”

I told not to scream at me.

“No!”

So I turned off the CD player and told her she couldn’t listen to any more music. She glowered at me in the rearview mirror for a few moments, then said, “I’m angry at you.”

This was the first time she had said that to me — or at all, as far as I know. So it was kind of cool that she learned a new phrase, but kind of a bummer that she was angry at me. Further stirring the mixed emotions is that it is sometimes cute when Karina gets angry, but I don’t want to let inappropriate behavior slide just because it is superficially amusing.

“Why are you angry at me?” I asked.

“Because you fight me,” she said. Another new phrase. More mixed emotions. “And I’m going to tell Mama!”

Now that wasn’t the first time she’s dropped that on me. The first time was about six months ago in the doctor’s office, after she got a shot. She was upset and lashing out. When she got home, she did tell mom right away. However, by that point she was no longer angry at me and was telling mama because she was proud of how many shots she had bravely withstood.

Anyway. When Kazumi got home I was the one who ended up telling her about the little flare-up (though Karina had long since calmed down and told me she was no longer angry). Kazumi suggested I write a blog post about it, because it will be amusing to read this several years from now. And perhaps it will. At least, I hope it will. I am aware that there is a chance that I could be reading this over when Karina is a surly teenager and, instead of finding it amusing, will see it as an eerie harbinger of things to come.

Karina just finished her fourth (of five) two-week swimming lessons for the summer. In June, I signed her up for Level I classes across the board. This seemed like a reasonable decision, since I was told that Level II was developed for five-year-olds. But Kazumi took that as a challenge, and every two weeks has been pushing for Karina to pass Level I (and pushing me to badger Karina’s teachers into letting her pass).

Now, eight weeks in, Kazumi finally got what she wanted: Karina passed. And I don’t think it was due to my half-hearted lobbying attempts. Every session Karina is getting better, and just this last Friday she swam a good 15 or 20 feet by herself. And now on Monday she starts Level II. While I’m satisfied with this progress for the summer, I get the feeling Kazumi’s already got her sights set on Level III.

This is the kind of thing that is exciting for parents and maybe relatives, but nobody else. Still, Kazumi wants me to post it.

So while Kazumi was up in LA all day having lunch and a massage with friends, I took the kids to the Children’s Museum in La Habra. One of their rooms has a faux recording studio, stage with microphone, and an extensive wardrobe selection. Somewhat surprisingly, this is Karina’s favorite room, and she spent a lot of time this afternoon preening and working out the vocals for “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star.”