I'm just so happy that I don't have to get up at 4:30 tomorrow morning.
So happy.
Me and some of the girls from peet's just bought tickets to spend New Year's Eve in London. That's london, England, baby.
fish'n'chips!
pints!
clubs! (these are clubbin young things. I'll totter along behind them)
accents!
INDIAN FOOD!
cold
4:30 pm sunsets
possibly Paris
possibly scotland
I think this is going to be the first New Year's Eve I've looked forward to in a looong time.
For the first time ever I was at a street fair and found something I needed. This artist, Leonardo Nunez, does these incredible linoleum block prints of homeless people standing in artichoke fields and under oak trees. The detail is astounding.
I'm a fan.
Can't stop listening to this song. Can't stop.
MI HISTORIA ENTRE TUS DEDOS
Yo pienso que no son tan inútiles las noches que te dí.
Te marchas y qué, yo no intento discutírtelo, lo sabes y lo sé.
Al menos quédate sólo esta noche, prometo no tocarte, estás segura,
tal vez es que me voy sintiendo solo, porque conozco esa sonrisa tan definitiva,
tu sonrisa que a mí mismo me abrió tu paraíso.
Se dice que con cada hombre hay una como tú, pero mi sitio -luego- lo ocuparás con alguno
igual que yo, mejor, lo dudo.
¿Por qué esta vez agachas la mirada, me pides que sigamos siendo amigos?
¿amigos para qué, maldita sea?
A un amigo lo perdono, pero a tí te amo, pueden parecer banales mis instintos naturales.
Hay una cosa que yo no te he dicho aún, que mis problemas, ¿sabés qué? se llaman: "tú".
Sólo por eso tu me ves hacerme el duro para sentirme un poquito más seguro.
Y si no quieres ni decir en qué he fallado, recuerda que también a tí te he perdonado,
y en cambio tú dices "lo siento, no te quiero" y te me vas con esta historia entre tus dedos.
¡Qué vas a hacer!, busca una excusa y luego márchate.
Porque de mí no debieras preocuparte, no debes provocarme.
Que yo te escribiré un par de canciones tratando de esconder mis emociones.
Pensando, pero poco, en las palabras, y hablaré de la sonrisa...
The new pope is opposed to yoga, according to some guy on Salon.com.
My fingernails and toenails and hair all grow at an alarming rate.
You know how there is that one movie that you never saw, somehow you missed it, and it's like you missed a major cultural milestone? People talk about it every once in a while and you have to shrug and say, uh, I never saw it.
Well, I saw mine today. "Say Anything". And it was GOOD! And I have a crush on 1989 John Cusack! And I felt nostalgic for the eighties: the big hair, the weird shoulder pads, the trenchcoats. Sigh.
The writing is good, that's what makes it work. Sorry, Fever Pitch. But that Cameron Crowe can really write a surprising scene. I mean, when she gives her dad the pen in the prison yard. That's just good stuff.
I sort of want Cameron Crowe to pull a "Before Sunrise" and make a movie about Lloyd and Diane meeting up 20 years later. That would be good.
I had some hope for this movie. I like Drew Barrymore. Jimmy Fallon is no Will Farrell but I thought that romantic comedy might be his thing. But the whole movie seemed weirdly flat. The actors seemed to be straining in their roles, working too hard. They're both charming and I liked them together but something wasn't working. Maybe it was the writing.
The thing that really struck me about this movie, though, was the sadly uninventive "female sidekick" roles. I think in some ways "Sex and the City" is the best example of female friendship in romantic comedy/mainstream culture that I know of. In so many movies I sigh when the obligatory chick scene starts. There is the beautiful leading lady with her friends: the fat friend, the bitchy friend, the neurotic friend. And guess what? None of them like each other very much and they don't talk about anything except for the leading lady's problems. In SATC, the characters were allowed to be odd AND normal. They were complex. There is no complexity in the obligatory Lead with Ladyfriends scene in Fever Pitch. There is snippy dialogue, there are cliche characters, vapid conversations.
And the more I think about it, I can't think of a single mainstream movie that portrays female friendship the way that I experience it.
Lame.
Clare, Anne-Marie and I comparing pointy toes on the dance floor.
Maureen doing the jack-hammer. Serious flexiblity.
Farmer's market.Man with flag. Christians.
Looking at ducks by the river as dusk fell. Gaby wanted to come.
The kids made the duck tour withou an adult. oops.
Oro, the Italian waiter.
White robes with our names on them.
Tools for the boys with their names on them.
Going to campus alone on Friday morning, English department. bookstore. UU.
Wedding weekend memories:
Sporran=manbag
"I used to change your diapers."
Dolphin sighting.
Shekkie as Simba in the SLO production of "The Lion King"
The Fathers
Wee John in a red Speedo, poolside.
Gerald's eyes at half mast.
Gerald, please sit down.
Gerald wanted Jack in the Box tacos.
"This is the second time today I've gotten up from a warm seat with a piece of paper in my hand."
Spboner
sporection
ween
I saw Mike's naughty bits.
kilt/bed/pillow game
Clare took a picture of the fire extinguisher.
Tweaker night manager was really quite nice.
"I clean toilets."
After party in Mike's room.
After party in Jim's room.
After party in Matt'n'Mary's room.
After party in mother of bride's room.
After party in hallway.
After party in Mo's room.
Mo's head against the wall.
If Mike calls you at 1:37 am, don't answer.
Jenny: "You're dead tomorrow, Mike."
Bride with a cowboy hat.
Did Brandy make it home OK, Jim?
Drunk Buddy
Drunk Matt Robertson.
Jack Robertson, dancing.
Katharine can shake that thang on the floor.
"It's $35 if you spill and $300 if you vomit."
Keg transferred to Jim's room, cup by cup.
Sean the bartender. Yay Sean!
Ken, the van man.
Men look good in kilts.
Am I forgetting anything?