Mar 09, 2006 18:04
My mother absolutely can ruin the magic of a movie. Yesterday, I walked into the house, and just stared at the stack of movies that I own and haven't yet watched. So, I pop in "Farewell, My Concubine" and proceed to get lost in the movie. (Get lost as in enjoy it so much that time is passing all too quickly and little of the outside world matters). Well, I was until the moment she starts asking me questions about the movie. "Why don't the run away?" Granted, the movie was subtitled, but then there's the ever famous yelling at the movie: "Someone ought to hit him like that!"
Now I know why she has to watch a movie several times over, she's not paying attention to half of it, apparently.
---
Why is there a phone line in the copy room that has a label on it "For Emergency Use Only"? Is it incase there's some tragic Xeroxing accident where someone looses an arm?
---
Now, there are no ice cream shops in the French Quarter. And Angeli's has begun hosting a jazz band to play in there. Or at least it was there on Saturday night. Virgin Megastore's no longer with us (at least as far as I know) and Tower is only open til 6p. Bourbon Street seems to be fine, and there was lots of caterwauling going down in Cat's Meow. I remember my 19th birthday there, surprisingly despite all the alcohol that was consumed.
work,
movies