new order
Oh, kids! How fucking beautiful is this day? Too much, says I!
I am in a very good mood. At the moment, the soundtrack to my life is that of the deep base melodies of things being packed into boxes, interspersed with the sporadic rips of tape being applied to seal them; the movers are here, and the house is being packed away for Clemens’ departure on Monday. It was a good thing, this morning, to getup and quickly sort my things from his, and realize that moving stuff down to Seville will probably be easier than I thought; in all, I have barely over two suitcases of things, and a single drawer of non-perishable food items (which naturally will be consumed, and thus will not need to accompany me down).
I am exited about seeing this house empty again. It was like that when I first came to see it (Clemens’ furniture hadn’t been shipped down yet) and it looked way awesome; it’s good to have it furnished in the winter, course, but now that it has grown gloriously hot, I really am feeling the minimalist bungalow look. They’ll come in to take my bed and my wardrobe soon, and then they’ll help me move in the cot from the winter terrace, and everything will follow a charming, slowly deconstructing pace which will take my life in this apartment in an appropriately full circle.
With aims to commemorate the last evening of furniture, tho, I spontaneously held a dinner party last night, event which served the alternate practical purpose of allowing me a situation in which to cook everything I had in the fridge - something which I will not be able to do again in who-knows-how-long, as all the cookware (pots, pans) was packed away about ten minutes ago, and the silverware is in the process of being wrapped in newspaper and deposited in a cardboard box as I type. I had a bunch of perishables which required some degree of preparation with these sorts of utensils, so these we consumed, over several hours last night. Sarah came over first, catching me just as I leapt out of the shower (she complimented me on smelling very good - historically, for some reason, over the course of my entire life, the compliment I most frequently get from women is on my scent; it’s not that they do not also think me to be other flattering things, but smell seems to catch them first, and it is amusing), and she had some of Monday’s ratatouille (which IS better colder and on the next day) while we prepped; then we set about making a new batch of ratatouille, followed by crêpe batter, followed by the famous Poulet à la Madeleine, all the while drinking copious amounts of cava with fruit juice (improvised mimosas, basically).
Two bottles and several hours later, Alexis came over with one of her flatmates, and the massive feast began. Sarah was supposed to go to a farewell party, but over the course of cooking and talking and then eating she got so massively plastered that she was ultimately unable to attend; instead, we all hung out and ate and ate and ate and talked a lot about high school and people and Murray Clement (in particular the “Look what I can do!” and-then-he-swallowed-a-banana story), whom Alexis knows personally and whom (unremarkably) both Sarah and Alexis’ flatmate already knew-of. And, anyway, it was good to have people over for a last hurrah, and talk for hours, and get pleasantly drunk-without-headaches, and make plans for going out and dancing and so-forth. I like cooking for other people, and eating with them, and etc.
(They’ve just taken the bed. These movers are hilarious, also. And remarkably nice and not-bastards, which goes against most everything I’ve always heard about movers. They keep finding money around the house and giving it to me - “P’al estudiante, que ese sí que lo necesita!” - and generally being quite helpful and polite about everything - offering to leave certain boxes untapped so that I can still keep using the stuff kept therein (namely, the spices) and refusing to pack the kitchen table to that I may have a place on which to eat dinner over the coming days. There goes the wardrobe, by the way.)
I need to buy my ticket home no later than next week. And also, probably, a bus or train ticket back from Pamplona, because that’s likely to get sold-out as well. And I need to do a lot of work this long weekend (keep making progress on the investigative report, write an essay on Machiavelli’s The Prince, do research into the families backing certain major American newspapers, and interview a couple of people for a report), tho I think I’ll be fine. This weekend should be exciting; it’s the 200th anniversary of the Madrid revolts against the French occupiers (of the 2nd and 3rd of May 1808, as famously commemorated by Goya in his paintings of the same name) and there are events all over the city, most of which I hope to attend and, you know, duly chronicle. And then next week, next week…next week in both the Feast of San Isidro (patron saint of the city) and my Birthday Week, so that should also bring forth a later barrage of excitement. Hopefully it will all turn out marvelously.
(My old-new bed was just brought in. The move in my room, therefore, is pretty much complete. Hurrah! Long live the sun-bleached minimalist late Spring of 2008.)
Other things -
This restaurant we used to go to all the time when I was a kid (to the point where the chef was on good-friends, first-name, let’s-hang-out-and-talk terms with my dad) made #8 on the World's Best Restaurants list. Go Arzac!
First, this is really, really awesome, and I want to use it to get this book (to take with me on the June trek), this book (when I get back to the States), and maybe some Faulkner.
Movies: I’ve seen a shit-ton of them. Let’s review:
Persepolis. You know, after all the hype, I couldn’t be helped but be a bit disappointed. The animation was amazing, yes, and a lot of the characters were loveable, but I totally wasn’t really into the lead (or her story for that matter). Things I liked: the grandmother, the recreation of the rise of the Shah using puppet-like animation, the meeting of God and Marx. But, mostly, other than loving it visually, I thought the plot was lacking - dunno, it’s probably an unfair way of seeing it, but I thought to myself, “Would I have thought this to be a great film if it were live-action?” Nah. It was okay, but not the greatest thing ever; hype killed it for me, basically.
Into the Wild. Really, really good. Also, totally a downer. But beautifully shot and very well acted. Eddie Vedder’s voice got annoying at times, but all-in-all the songs were pretty good. Hal Holbrook was great, but I didn’t think it was that remarkable a role to earn an Oscar nod, really - he’s an old man, who plays an old man well. (Then again, given they keep giving nods to Maggie Smith and Judy Dench for playing stuffy English women, I guess the Oscars have no real issue with issuing nominations based on very rational type-casting.) But, aye, beautiful, but also totally sad. My one qualm was probably that Emile Hirsch looked in no real way emaciated at the end of the film, but I guess there’s only so much that makeup can do. But, yeah, fine film.
The Ice Storm. Bit of a surprise, really. I picked it up on a whim, and it turned out to be pretty good; it chronicles a couple of days in the life of a Connecticut family in the early 1970’s, and basically how everyone has drama - the father is having an affair with a bitchy neighbor, the mother knows and is kind of at the end of her rope, the daughter really wants to experiment sexually tho she’s only 14, and the eldest brother is a big geek who wants to get laid. And then a lot of shit goes down and there’s a (really beautiful) ice-storm. Anyway, interesting, and actually pretty good; also fascinating in terms of everyone and their mother randomly being in it - Kevin Kline, Elijah Wood, Cristina Ricci, Allison Janey, Tobey McGuire, Joan Allen, Katie Holmes, Sigourney Weaver, David Krumholtz, etc.
Knocked Up. Pretty funny. Not so much “ha-ha” as it made me smirk a lot. Cute film.
Les Chansons D’Amour. Ha! A bit of a conundrum, really - I loved this film, but I know I probably shouldn’t. It wasn’t as good as I feel it is, and rational me knows that the plot was lacking, a lot of the acting was melodramatic and it was, on the whole, kind of ridiculous. But…all these reasons kind of make me love it even more. It was adorable, quite possibly the frenchest thing I’ve ever seen, and by that I mean that it was cerebral, incredibly sexy and more than a little bit pretentious; it was over the top and at times completely senseless, and yet SO FASCINATING. The film is about a bunch of young, brooding, violently intellectual Parisians and their crazy, convoluted love-lifes, all stemming from the main character (played by Louis Garrel - yes, I know, “he’s so hot and blah blah blah blah blah…”), his girlfriends, their lovers, and everyone’s questionable sexuality. In the midst of all that drama, WHAM! - THEY SING! Not like big dance numbers, or an occasional karaoke minute, but actual singing of what they’re saying and so forth - and they aren’t half bad, either (most of the songs are actually fucking catchy, albeit very modern, poppy French). Tho that’s all interesting, one is more than likely to get distracted not by any of the main people, but rather by Chiara Mastrioanni, who plays a fairly secondary, elder sister character; she is fucking beautiful, tho in a very strange way - and no surprise there, given that she’s Catherine Deneuve’s daughter. Anyway, yeah, I recommend.
Bon Voyage. How delightful is this film? I first saw it right before the Best Christmas Ever (circa 2005) and it made me want to pick up and move to Bordeaux; second time around, same basic feeling, tho now it’s also made me want to read everything about the fall of the French Third Republic. Awesome, adorable, screwball film.
Imaginary Heroes. Written about it a few times; really liked this film. Family falling apart after the death of the eldest sibling. Good stuff.
Le Train de la Vie. Another random find. Farce about a small Jewish stetl in Eastern Europe that finds out that the Nazi’s are deporting the people in the next village over. Rather than wait for this to happen, they decide to buy a train and deport themselves, in an effort to fake out the Third Reich and head to Palestine (by way of Russia) instead. Pretty amusing, and adorable, and also sad.
Heathers. Funny stuff. Much darker than I expected.
Un Poco de Chocolate. What a shitty, shitty movie. Do not make the mistake of seeing this; it is total crap.
The Evil Dead. SO BAD IT’S GOOD AGAIN!
Over and out!
I am in a very good mood. At the moment, the soundtrack to my life is that of the deep base melodies of things being packed into boxes, interspersed with the sporadic rips of tape being applied to seal them; the movers are here, and the house is being packed away for Clemens’ departure on Monday. It was a good thing, this morning, to getup and quickly sort my things from his, and realize that moving stuff down to Seville will probably be easier than I thought; in all, I have barely over two suitcases of things, and a single drawer of non-perishable food items (which naturally will be consumed, and thus will not need to accompany me down).
I am exited about seeing this house empty again. It was like that when I first came to see it (Clemens’ furniture hadn’t been shipped down yet) and it looked way awesome; it’s good to have it furnished in the winter, course, but now that it has grown gloriously hot, I really am feeling the minimalist bungalow look. They’ll come in to take my bed and my wardrobe soon, and then they’ll help me move in the cot from the winter terrace, and everything will follow a charming, slowly deconstructing pace which will take my life in this apartment in an appropriately full circle.
With aims to commemorate the last evening of furniture, tho, I spontaneously held a dinner party last night, event which served the alternate practical purpose of allowing me a situation in which to cook everything I had in the fridge - something which I will not be able to do again in who-knows-how-long, as all the cookware (pots, pans) was packed away about ten minutes ago, and the silverware is in the process of being wrapped in newspaper and deposited in a cardboard box as I type. I had a bunch of perishables which required some degree of preparation with these sorts of utensils, so these we consumed, over several hours last night. Sarah came over first, catching me just as I leapt out of the shower (she complimented me on smelling very good - historically, for some reason, over the course of my entire life, the compliment I most frequently get from women is on my scent; it’s not that they do not also think me to be other flattering things, but smell seems to catch them first, and it is amusing), and she had some of Monday’s ratatouille (which IS better colder and on the next day) while we prepped; then we set about making a new batch of ratatouille, followed by crêpe batter, followed by the famous Poulet à la Madeleine, all the while drinking copious amounts of cava with fruit juice (improvised mimosas, basically).
Two bottles and several hours later, Alexis came over with one of her flatmates, and the massive feast began. Sarah was supposed to go to a farewell party, but over the course of cooking and talking and then eating she got so massively plastered that she was ultimately unable to attend; instead, we all hung out and ate and ate and ate and talked a lot about high school and people and Murray Clement (in particular the “Look what I can do!” and-then-he-swallowed-a-banana story), whom Alexis knows personally and whom (unremarkably) both Sarah and Alexis’ flatmate already knew-of. And, anyway, it was good to have people over for a last hurrah, and talk for hours, and get pleasantly drunk-without-headaches, and make plans for going out and dancing and so-forth. I like cooking for other people, and eating with them, and etc.
(They’ve just taken the bed. These movers are hilarious, also. And remarkably nice and not-bastards, which goes against most everything I’ve always heard about movers. They keep finding money around the house and giving it to me - “P’al estudiante, que ese sí que lo necesita!” - and generally being quite helpful and polite about everything - offering to leave certain boxes untapped so that I can still keep using the stuff kept therein (namely, the spices) and refusing to pack the kitchen table to that I may have a place on which to eat dinner over the coming days. There goes the wardrobe, by the way.)
I need to buy my ticket home no later than next week. And also, probably, a bus or train ticket back from Pamplona, because that’s likely to get sold-out as well. And I need to do a lot of work this long weekend (keep making progress on the investigative report, write an essay on Machiavelli’s The Prince, do research into the families backing certain major American newspapers, and interview a couple of people for a report), tho I think I’ll be fine. This weekend should be exciting; it’s the 200th anniversary of the Madrid revolts against the French occupiers (of the 2nd and 3rd of May 1808, as famously commemorated by Goya in his paintings of the same name) and there are events all over the city, most of which I hope to attend and, you know, duly chronicle. And then next week, next week…next week in both the Feast of San Isidro (patron saint of the city) and my Birthday Week, so that should also bring forth a later barrage of excitement. Hopefully it will all turn out marvelously.
(My old-new bed was just brought in. The move in my room, therefore, is pretty much complete. Hurrah! Long live the sun-bleached minimalist late Spring of 2008.)
Other things -
This restaurant we used to go to all the time when I was a kid (to the point where the chef was on good-friends, first-name, let’s-hang-out-and-talk terms with my dad) made #8 on the World's Best Restaurants list. Go Arzac!
First, this is really, really awesome, and I want to use it to get this book (to take with me on the June trek), this book (when I get back to the States), and maybe some Faulkner.
Movies: I’ve seen a shit-ton of them. Let’s review:
Persepolis. You know, after all the hype, I couldn’t be helped but be a bit disappointed. The animation was amazing, yes, and a lot of the characters were loveable, but I totally wasn’t really into the lead (or her story for that matter). Things I liked: the grandmother, the recreation of the rise of the Shah using puppet-like animation, the meeting of God and Marx. But, mostly, other than loving it visually, I thought the plot was lacking - dunno, it’s probably an unfair way of seeing it, but I thought to myself, “Would I have thought this to be a great film if it were live-action?” Nah. It was okay, but not the greatest thing ever; hype killed it for me, basically.
Into the Wild. Really, really good. Also, totally a downer. But beautifully shot and very well acted. Eddie Vedder’s voice got annoying at times, but all-in-all the songs were pretty good. Hal Holbrook was great, but I didn’t think it was that remarkable a role to earn an Oscar nod, really - he’s an old man, who plays an old man well. (Then again, given they keep giving nods to Maggie Smith and Judy Dench for playing stuffy English women, I guess the Oscars have no real issue with issuing nominations based on very rational type-casting.) But, aye, beautiful, but also totally sad. My one qualm was probably that Emile Hirsch looked in no real way emaciated at the end of the film, but I guess there’s only so much that makeup can do. But, yeah, fine film.
The Ice Storm. Bit of a surprise, really. I picked it up on a whim, and it turned out to be pretty good; it chronicles a couple of days in the life of a Connecticut family in the early 1970’s, and basically how everyone has drama - the father is having an affair with a bitchy neighbor, the mother knows and is kind of at the end of her rope, the daughter really wants to experiment sexually tho she’s only 14, and the eldest brother is a big geek who wants to get laid. And then a lot of shit goes down and there’s a (really beautiful) ice-storm. Anyway, interesting, and actually pretty good; also fascinating in terms of everyone and their mother randomly being in it - Kevin Kline, Elijah Wood, Cristina Ricci, Allison Janey, Tobey McGuire, Joan Allen, Katie Holmes, Sigourney Weaver, David Krumholtz, etc.
Knocked Up. Pretty funny. Not so much “ha-ha” as it made me smirk a lot. Cute film.
Les Chansons D’Amour. Ha! A bit of a conundrum, really - I loved this film, but I know I probably shouldn’t. It wasn’t as good as I feel it is, and rational me knows that the plot was lacking, a lot of the acting was melodramatic and it was, on the whole, kind of ridiculous. But…all these reasons kind of make me love it even more. It was adorable, quite possibly the frenchest thing I’ve ever seen, and by that I mean that it was cerebral, incredibly sexy and more than a little bit pretentious; it was over the top and at times completely senseless, and yet SO FASCINATING. The film is about a bunch of young, brooding, violently intellectual Parisians and their crazy, convoluted love-lifes, all stemming from the main character (played by Louis Garrel - yes, I know, “he’s so hot and blah blah blah blah blah…”), his girlfriends, their lovers, and everyone’s questionable sexuality. In the midst of all that drama, WHAM! - THEY SING! Not like big dance numbers, or an occasional karaoke minute, but actual singing of what they’re saying and so forth - and they aren’t half bad, either (most of the songs are actually fucking catchy, albeit very modern, poppy French). Tho that’s all interesting, one is more than likely to get distracted not by any of the main people, but rather by Chiara Mastrioanni, who plays a fairly secondary, elder sister character; she is fucking beautiful, tho in a very strange way - and no surprise there, given that she’s Catherine Deneuve’s daughter. Anyway, yeah, I recommend.
Bon Voyage. How delightful is this film? I first saw it right before the Best Christmas Ever (circa 2005) and it made me want to pick up and move to Bordeaux; second time around, same basic feeling, tho now it’s also made me want to read everything about the fall of the French Third Republic. Awesome, adorable, screwball film.
Imaginary Heroes. Written about it a few times; really liked this film. Family falling apart after the death of the eldest sibling. Good stuff.
Le Train de la Vie. Another random find. Farce about a small Jewish stetl in Eastern Europe that finds out that the Nazi’s are deporting the people in the next village over. Rather than wait for this to happen, they decide to buy a train and deport themselves, in an effort to fake out the Third Reich and head to Palestine (by way of Russia) instead. Pretty amusing, and adorable, and also sad.
Heathers. Funny stuff. Much darker than I expected.
Un Poco de Chocolate. What a shitty, shitty movie. Do not make the mistake of seeing this; it is total crap.
The Evil Dead. SO BAD IT’S GOOD AGAIN!
Over and out!