Dear The O.C.
I will miss you, stupid show that I scoffed at that first summer it was on, and then was sick that one Labor Day where FX was rerunning the first six episodes and I got totally hooked in because omg your version of stupid rich people hitting each other (or getting hit by young hoodlums in wife-beaters [or young hoodlums who clean up nicely in suits]) at parties never, ever gets unfunny to me. I don't know how you did it, but you made me cry more consistently than any show ever, even shows that are way better and/or take over my brain and make me obsessive and all that jazz. In short, thanks for the distraction and catharsis these last three and a half years.
*sigh*
Right. Went to the movies tonight, for the first time since December (Casino Royale), which was the first time since August (Hollywoodland). Saw The Last King of Scotland, which was really, really good but just freaking hard to watch that last half hour or so. Everyone is flailing about Forest Whitaker, and yes, he was brilliant, but my gods James McAvoy was amazing, too. And, Vortexian moment: he was totally putting the moves on Gillian Anderson, which was a bit weird and yet also cool.
*sigh*
Right. Went to the movies tonight, for the first time since December (Casino Royale), which was the first time since August (Hollywoodland). Saw The Last King of Scotland, which was really, really good but just freaking hard to watch that last half hour or so. Everyone is flailing about Forest Whitaker, and yes, he was brilliant, but my gods James McAvoy was amazing, too. And, Vortexian moment: he was totally putting the moves on Gillian Anderson, which was a bit weird and yet also cool.