Happy Mardi Gras. I'm spending my early evening at a consulting firm open house. It involves alcohol, so I figured I could do something that both has to do with my job and schmooz as well as entertaining. Later, I was supposed to go out with some models up from Chicago, but I don't feel like it. It sounded fun, but now sounds le boring.
I tried to watch Almodovar's Talk To Her last night, but the DVD was damaged more than 3/4 the way through. It wasn't quite as good as I expected. A lot of his other films are much funnier with better characters. I think also I don't get along well with bed-ridden hospital movies. Americans love disabled, diseased, or someway fucked-up movies. I'm convinced these movies are made for 50 old women who buy hallmark cards and sob in their lazy-boys while their husbands play on the computer to avoid them.
I'm still reading Tristam Shandy. It is killing me. I'm literally forcing myself to read it. I give myself stickers after 5 pages, a break after 20, and a night on the town after 50. Ok, not quite that bad. But I do deserve a sticker.
I tried to watch Almodovar's Talk To Her last night, but the DVD was damaged more than 3/4 the way through. It wasn't quite as good as I expected. A lot of his other films are much funnier with better characters. I think also I don't get along well with bed-ridden hospital movies. Americans love disabled, diseased, or someway fucked-up movies. I'm convinced these movies are made for 50 old women who buy hallmark cards and sob in their lazy-boys while their husbands play on the computer to avoid them.
I'm still reading Tristam Shandy. It is killing me. I'm literally forcing myself to read it. I give myself stickers after 5 pages, a break after 20, and a night on the town after 50. Ok, not quite that bad. But I do deserve a sticker.
juliebogart:
