Hrm...
hrm. what to say...
finally got on some sort of work schedule today, so that'll be something to do atleast. They only problem is that I'll be getting a key, which really isn't so much a problem as it is a forboding of those little pain in the ass consequences some people call "responsibility". Working again will be fun though. I don't miss the caustic banter, but I like to pretend that it's all for research for my writing career, and that someday I'll be making the big bucks off of the harrowing experience of being a children's hair salon receptionist. hrm.
watched the new Sabrina on tv, and once and for all decided that while it has its merits the remake doesn't hold a candle to the original, and while I'm watching Audrey Hepbern-ish movies all of the sudden*, i should really find An American in Paris. Haven't seen that one in awhile. Also watched Chocolat, which renewed my deep love for Alfred Molina as an actor, reminded me I want to be exactly like Judi Dench's portrayal's of old fiesty ladies when I myself am an old fiesty lady, and forced me to observe that I am not such a big fan of Juliette Binoche and therefore do not like all things french. Chocolat is really the sort of nice movie in the way there are nice men. Their words aren't anything spectacular, no one would ever use the descriptor "deep" in reference to them, and every once and awhile you find yourself dozing off on them, but you keep them around anyway because they really are nice to look at every now and then. Maybe it's my callous attitude towards movies that explains why I have yet to find a boy?
I've finished three books in two days (to be fair, they were easy reads, nothing epic or taxing) and have considered doing real work about a hundred times. I'll get around to it here. *sigh* I really needed to escape somewhere, and yet, here I am; un-escaped and as rut-tish as ever. Oh my, whatever am I to do with myself? Maybe I'll go trawl the shops in uptown tomorrow and spend money I don't have on comic books, cds/dvds, and trinkets for my new "opium den" of a room at school. (for all people who're reading and don't know: I fixed up my room into a sort of lounge, and most of my decorative stuff is a deep burgundy and has an asian-ish flair, so most people say it now looks like an opium den. I do not smoke/sell/encourage opium in it. I'd hate to have to get the fumes out of the curtains.) I do know that I'm going to the Theater de la Juene Lune's Tango-Opera. "What's a Tango Opera?" You ask, and are justified in your asking. Ask me again tomorrow after I've gone, hopefully I'll be more enlightened then than I am now. Until then- Ciao
*I watched breakfast at tiffany's last night and, had I been at school or had somewhere to go with someone, I would've been quoting the damn thing up and down the next day. But no. I have no one to quote to. Bet you're sorry you missed out on that gem of an experience.
finally got on some sort of work schedule today, so that'll be something to do atleast. They only problem is that I'll be getting a key, which really isn't so much a problem as it is a forboding of those little pain in the ass consequences some people call "responsibility". Working again will be fun though. I don't miss the caustic banter, but I like to pretend that it's all for research for my writing career, and that someday I'll be making the big bucks off of the harrowing experience of being a children's hair salon receptionist. hrm.
watched the new Sabrina on tv, and once and for all decided that while it has its merits the remake doesn't hold a candle to the original, and while I'm watching Audrey Hepbern-ish movies all of the sudden*, i should really find An American in Paris. Haven't seen that one in awhile. Also watched Chocolat, which renewed my deep love for Alfred Molina as an actor, reminded me I want to be exactly like Judi Dench's portrayal's of old fiesty ladies when I myself am an old fiesty lady, and forced me to observe that I am not such a big fan of Juliette Binoche and therefore do not like all things french. Chocolat is really the sort of nice movie in the way there are nice men. Their words aren't anything spectacular, no one would ever use the descriptor "deep" in reference to them, and every once and awhile you find yourself dozing off on them, but you keep them around anyway because they really are nice to look at every now and then. Maybe it's my callous attitude towards movies that explains why I have yet to find a boy?
I've finished three books in two days (to be fair, they were easy reads, nothing epic or taxing) and have considered doing real work about a hundred times. I'll get around to it here. *sigh* I really needed to escape somewhere, and yet, here I am; un-escaped and as rut-tish as ever. Oh my, whatever am I to do with myself? Maybe I'll go trawl the shops in uptown tomorrow and spend money I don't have on comic books, cds/dvds, and trinkets for my new "opium den" of a room at school. (for all people who're reading and don't know: I fixed up my room into a sort of lounge, and most of my decorative stuff is a deep burgundy and has an asian-ish flair, so most people say it now looks like an opium den. I do not smoke/sell/encourage opium in it. I'd hate to have to get the fumes out of the curtains.) I do know that I'm going to the Theater de la Juene Lune's Tango-Opera. "What's a Tango Opera?" You ask, and are justified in your asking. Ask me again tomorrow after I've gone, hopefully I'll be more enlightened then than I am now. Until then- Ciao
*I watched breakfast at tiffany's last night and, had I been at school or had somewhere to go with someone, I would've been quoting the damn thing up and down the next day. But no. I have no one to quote to. Bet you're sorry you missed out on that gem of an experience.