 Hello Again |
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In the past six weeks... I loved Buffy: The Musical. And Buffy and Spike had crazy, up against the wall sex. Life as a House moved me beyond measure and I think all of the critics can go to hell. It was beautiful. Hayden Christensen completely impressed me, Kristen Scott Thomas reminded me why I loved her in The English Patient, and Kevin Kline? Amazing. I mean, I really loved it. I would see it again and again. Halloween and Thanksgiving came and went. I was a gothic witch at my sister's Halloween party and children with mustaches and without costumes trick-or-treated at my house. We went to the convent for Thanksgiving. My great aunt did not poop in her pants this year, but she did continue to talk about how the FBI has her under surveillance and how her English cousins are cooperating with agents overseas and are going to offer me a job. My grandmother repeatedly asked me and my cousins who we all were. She looked at my sister and at my mother and said to my sister, "You're her daughter? How have I missed this all these years?" And my sister burst into tears. I re-read The Golden Compass. I painted my dining room Raspberry Truffle with much moral support from the Painting Guru. I hung in my dining room 8x10 black and white glossy photos of movie couples to remind myself that I still believe in romance. I put myself further into hock by ordering things like this for myself. Also, on ebay. Buying things like Camelot playbills from 1961. I bought things for myself like jeans, sweaters, and earrings with money I don't even have. I bought my sweaters from Rave, a trashy teen clothing retail store in the mall, thus cementing the fact that I believe I am fifteen years old. I paid $107 to a national collection agency representing Hollywood video for The Family Man, which I rented this summer and which apparently I never returned. At least not to the right store. Not two days later, I was running my mouth, as I am wont to do, to the cashier at Major Video, explaining how I have forever ceased to shop at Hollywood Video because of the bad one hundred seven dollar karma inspired by The Family Man, which the young punk cashier proceeded to pull out from under the counter and say, "Dude. Here's your movie." Now I am on the eternal quest to get my $107 back and it's really been quite a nightmare. Athena is pregnant! Oh, life is good. I went to yoga class twice and feared both times that my neck would surely snap like a twig. Whoever invented "The Fish"? Sadist. Maryelizabeth came to town, and we ate sushi and sang "Damn, It Feels Good to Be a Gangster." Did I mention that I saw Office Space? Well, I did. Holy shit! It's funny. I made plans to spend a weekend in New Orleans with some of my favorite people, seeing some again and meeting some for the very first time. I became rather obsessed with David Gray. I saw the trailer for I Am Sam and cried through the whole damn thing. I guess I'm a sucker for Sean Penn, Toby Ziegler, and small adorable blonde children who say things with wide eyes like, "All you need is love."
© Copyright 2001 words diminish |
The Subtle Knife I'm excited to read The Red Tent soon. My mom read me part of the prologue and I wept at the kitchen table. I don't know what it is with me and the weeping lately. Listening Pictures of You, the Cure. Seeing My yard is covered in leaves and I suspect I will never rake them. Will this kill the grass? Probably. Journal Quote du Jour But it's good. I am growing. Or changing. Or surviving. Something. Something okay. Which is enough for these times. --By Myself, from Annegrrl's 3B Annegrrl, I'm glad you've started updating sometimes. I miss your journal a lot. |
