🎬 My Movie Obsession (And Why I Can’t Commit to Country Life)

I love going to the movies. Not just like—love. If there’s an advanced showing, sneak peek, or opening night event, I’m in the front of the line (well, maybe center row… center seat). I even go to those mysterious “sneak preview” nights where you don’t know what you’re watching until the lights dim. Risky? Maybe. Fun? Absolutely. My friends all know to call me if they are looking for someone to see a movie with – I am game for seeing a movie in almost any genre.

I’ve been an AMC A-List member since Day 1, and before that, I proudly carried my AMC Stubs card. (AMC is the closest theater to my city house, so it’s practically my second home.) I even own AMC stock—yep, I bought in during the great meme-stock frenzy and I’ve been hanging on ever since. Has it bounced back? Not really. But I’m in it for the popcorn-scented principle, not the profits.

During the height of COVID, when everything was semi-shut, my husband and I still went to the movies. Most of the time, it was just the two of us in the entire theater. Some people thought we were crazy. I thought we were brilliant. It was the perfect date night: quiet, safe, air-conditioned, and a break from remote work, homeschooling, and pandemic stress. Just us and the big screen. Bliss.

Now let’s talk about the real star of the show: the snacks. You know it’s true. Everyone has their ritual—mine includes sneaking in a $1.25 bag of dark chocolate peanuts from Dollar General (don’t judge), grabbing a large popcorn, and sipping a diet Coke as if calories don’t exist. Because in the movie theater? They don’t. It’s an unspoken agreement—we all pretend our snacks are health food for the next two hours.

There’s no guilt, no shame, no judgment. Just communal crunching, slurping, and chewing as we’re transported into someone else’s life or some alternate universe where no one has to think about laundry or their cholesterol. Pure magic.

And those post-credit scenes? I’m convinced they’re not just there to tease the next sequel. No, they serve a deeper purpose: they gently guide you back to real life. Like a cinematic cooldown after a two-hour cardio blast of emotion, sugar, and buttery carbs. They give your brain time to remember how to adult again. (We always Google whether to stay for them. Always.)

Because of our A-List membership, we see way more movies than our friends—even though we live an hour from the nearest AMC theater when we’re at our country house. I’ve gotten good at pairing movie outings with grocery runs or city house check-ins. Honestly, movies are one of the reasons I can’t fully commit to rural life. I need my regular big-screen fix.

But! There’s hope on the horizon: a Cinemark Gamescape is being built just 20 minutes from our property. It’s scheduled to open later this year, and I am counting the days.

Movies aren’t just entertainment to me—they’re an experience, a mini vacation, a dose of joy in a bucket of popcorn.

And as long as there’s a screen to watch, a snack to sneak, and a plot twist to gasp at, I’ll be there— center row, Diet Coke in hand.