We're havin' a heat wave
So, this is my second or third summer in a row without air conditioning. I don't really ever find it inconvenient to go without. I'd much rather have a few cable stations than a few hours of air conditioning. I think Jay would prefer to have it..in fact, our house is equipped for it; something's just broken, and we can't afford to figure out what, let alone fix it. If I get so unbearably hot, say from cleaning the kitchen at midday (why I'm up that early escapes me,) I'll just go ride around in the car AC. Honestly though, I'm convinced that an overly air conditioned environment makes me feel even sicker than I usually feel.
Is it strange that I feel more or less sick all the time? I think this must have something to do with my overconsumption of vinegar...not to mention all the cigarettes, but ehh.
So, I had another bad dream last night. This time Anthony Bourdain was trying to keep me from my family by paying me a quarter of a mil to work in one of his restaurants and be his lover and (hilariously) lifeguard at his personal pool. How I would have time for all of that is beyond me. The funniest line of the dream would have to be "My stomach is flatter than yours!" (Bourdain to me.) It sounds like a pretty great dream actually, but the whole keeping-me-from-my-family thing was bad news. Who would've imagined a few years ago during the whole Peter debacle that I would cling to them so fiercely later, but truth be told, if it weren't for Dad and Ginger, I probably would suck right now, so I really owe them for that. Plus, there decent people, if a bit too conservative, and they're very interested in my well-being, which is great. Mostly, bad dreams aren't about content, they're about feelings, and the past three nights have left me feeling icky.
Jay and I had a righteous dinner and watched "Wonderland" again last night. That movie is hilarious: The all-star cast features Val Kilmer, Kate Bosworth, Dylan McDermott, Jeneanne Garafello, Christina Applegate (the latter two play heavily-shadowed bit parts so that you can barely tell they're there at all), Tim Blake Nelson, and the most AWESOME PERFORMANCE of Josh Lucas' lifetime as the gun-toting, coke-vaccuuming Ron Launius. I've seen the movie several times now, and while it's generally the same Lion's Gate Films drivel as their other trainwrecks, Josh Lucas and the guy who play Eddie Nash really pull it out.
"I'll shoot it John. I'll fucking shoot it."
People have asked me how I can be such a proponent of bad movies. I hardly know how to go about answering that question. Where to start? Maybe it's college backlash...maybe it's a pursuit of mindlessness...or maybe it's just indescribably fun to watch the craptacularness that is Nick Cage battle the equally washed-up-but-never-was cleft-chinny aura of John Travolta.
I mean, I don't know, but I have a Netflix subscription, and I have to have SOMETHING in my queue...
In other news, I got a really polite message from Hunter today, and it really made my day. It's so so so so so good to think that he's at least willing to go to lunch with me, give me my watch back, and ask about my ailing pops. I was worried that I might never get to talk to him again, which would be an almost unbearable loss.
Is it strange that I feel more or less sick all the time? I think this must have something to do with my overconsumption of vinegar...not to mention all the cigarettes, but ehh.
So, I had another bad dream last night. This time Anthony Bourdain was trying to keep me from my family by paying me a quarter of a mil to work in one of his restaurants and be his lover and (hilariously) lifeguard at his personal pool. How I would have time for all of that is beyond me. The funniest line of the dream would have to be "My stomach is flatter than yours!" (Bourdain to me.) It sounds like a pretty great dream actually, but the whole keeping-me-from-my-family thing was bad news. Who would've imagined a few years ago during the whole Peter debacle that I would cling to them so fiercely later, but truth be told, if it weren't for Dad and Ginger, I probably would suck right now, so I really owe them for that. Plus, there decent people, if a bit too conservative, and they're very interested in my well-being, which is great. Mostly, bad dreams aren't about content, they're about feelings, and the past three nights have left me feeling icky.
Jay and I had a righteous dinner and watched "Wonderland" again last night. That movie is hilarious: The all-star cast features Val Kilmer, Kate Bosworth, Dylan McDermott, Jeneanne Garafello, Christina Applegate (the latter two play heavily-shadowed bit parts so that you can barely tell they're there at all), Tim Blake Nelson, and the most AWESOME PERFORMANCE of Josh Lucas' lifetime as the gun-toting, coke-vaccuuming Ron Launius. I've seen the movie several times now, and while it's generally the same Lion's Gate Films drivel as their other trainwrecks, Josh Lucas and the guy who play Eddie Nash really pull it out.
"I'll shoot it John. I'll fucking shoot it."
People have asked me how I can be such a proponent of bad movies. I hardly know how to go about answering that question. Where to start? Maybe it's college backlash...maybe it's a pursuit of mindlessness...or maybe it's just indescribably fun to watch the craptacularness that is Nick Cage battle the equally washed-up-but-never-was cleft-chinny aura of John Travolta.
I mean, I don't know, but I have a Netflix subscription, and I have to have SOMETHING in my queue...
In other news, I got a really polite message from Hunter today, and it really made my day. It's so so so so so good to think that he's at least willing to go to lunch with me, give me my watch back, and ask about my ailing pops. I was worried that I might never get to talk to him again, which would be an almost unbearable loss.