April 27th, 2003


movies, movies, movies

Went with A. to see Identity last night.

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After the movie, we went to a trattoria and had a truly wonderful amount of food. For appetizers, bruschetta with a variety of toppings--tomatoes, ricotta, and olive tapenade, which I kept mispronouncing as "ta-PEN-day"--and toasted bread with roasted garlic cloves, and then I had a Caprese salad--mozzarella, basil, tomatoes, salt & pepper--that they rather pointlessly put lettuce under, and for an entree some kind of fettuccine artichoke dish that could have fed China and which I barely made a dent in--it *still* could have fed China when I was done--and chocolate mousse cake for dessert.

Later, I came back and wanted to try out my new DVD player, so I tried to rent Brit QAF, which they only had on VHS, the lame-oids. Crap copy, too. Only the first half was watchable. But my god, it was as good as I remembered. Stuart Alan Jones: accept no substitutes. Holy fuck. Those eyes, that smile, that catlike stalk. Stuart and Nathan together--the hotness of them is not to be believed. And the bit where Stuart snags those *two* guys from the club and takes them home--and the look he gives Vince right before he does. And the way he questions Nathan about his age. And the way he stalks that totally undeserving guy at his OFFICE. Fuck me. And Nathan, that cutie--the way he moves through his school like he's cock of the walk after he gets laid for the first time. Yes, I'm so incoherent with lust that all my sentences are fragmenting. They're both arrogant, they're both assholes, and they're both utterly beyond words adorable. (Um. I like Vince, too. He is the Xander.) And this is a crazy world gone wrong where the video store shelves stock thirty copies of *American* QAF, and the clerk says, "British version? That's funny, you're the second person today to ask. I'd never heard of it before!"


I also rented Darkness Falls, which has Emma Caulfield. Haven't finished watching yet, but will say, Emma: very, very good. Movie: very, very bad.

In previews there was lame-ass shit like S.W.A.T. (theater), and National Security (rental), both of which look excruciating. I was reminded by the end of the evening that these four guys desperately need better agents and film vehicles: Steve Zahn, John Cusack, Colin Farrell, and Owen Wilson.

We also saw previews for Pirates of the Caribbean, which cracked our shit up as soon as Johnny Depp's kohled eyes came into view. The Charlie's Angels sequel is a must-see, of course. (Anna said without irony.) Girls in spandex! Exploding things! Seventies kitsch! I am so there.


The summer is making its upcoming debut felt with all the subtlety of a Hollywood diva. Big swollen sun today, big big sun. Bright, with brilliant blue sky and fluffy white clouds. It's grotesque. My feeling of horror increases in conjunction with the sudden need for Midol: heat, intestinal discomfort, tiredness. I came back in from a trip to the supermarket with a sense of great relief, a mole scurrying into its burrow.

Under the circumstances--given the monstrously clement weather--my plan to make pot-pie seems misguided, perhaps even insane. Eh.

Finished watching Darkness Falls. Wait until it's a cheaper rental if you need to see Emma, okay? That's all I'm saying.

I've been harping on this theme, but I'll say it again: going from the lucid flow of writing Subtleties back to the more familiar experience of sitting in front of Word and staring at the blinking cursor, fingers poised, having managed to set nothing but the opening quotation marks of some as yet unknown dialogue to the page--sucks ass.

Pot pie, save me.


spander throughout history

It occurs to me that if you want to understand the attraction of Xander/Spike (or Xander/almost anyone, even), you need only look to Cyrano de Bergerac. Or, Roxanne, the cool Steve Martin take on that story. Granted, Xander isn't disfigured in any way, but when set among the luminous stars of Hollywood Sunnydale, the Zeppo is the big-nosed man. The underdog, the fool. And there's something wonderful about the idea of the flashy prince--Spike--falling for the goofball, suddenly seeing him, all his intrinsic worth and character and goodness.

I love that final scene in Roxanne when she tells Charlie how much she loves him, nose and all. Actually, I love that whole movie, and you should go rent it if you've never seen it.

And stay out of the sun! It's evil!

Our PSAs for today, brought to you by Weetabix and Mrs. Olson's O-Positive Juice Drinks!


at the tone, the time is...

I am so very unable to make myself write. Writing itself seems tiresome. Reading almost as much so.

Help, help, help.

Also. Not drinking? Boring.

It would be cool if, once I had a story in my head, I could just hit a "Print Screen" button and have it slide out, freshly baked and written and complete.

Not sure what to do with myself tonight.