Fluff is good, right?
Dear Shoulderblade,
While I'm sure that you're enjoying your glory, sticking out like that ain't actually helpful to me. It feels weird and annoying and you've been doing it for days, which is just silly. It's even aching at the end of the day, so for both our sakes would you like to return to your normal position now?
No love,
Me
Tomorrow I have physio. It might be worth mentioning the shoulder blade thing to my torturer.
Today I have a lot of work and several meetings. Yay?
In less boring thoughts, I appear to be a fluffy person. Over Christmas I had two DVDs from Amazon: My Beauitful Laudrette and Nina's Heavenly Delights.
I could tell that the first was a very good film, well-written with good acting and lots of insightful things to say about 80s boom time, Pakistani culture in Britain, and other intelligent stuff. Except, um, I have to confess that I didn't actually love it as much as everyone assures me that I should.
The second film is a light, fluffy lesbian romance set in a curry house (work with me here) that had decent acting and a script that didn't creak or have holes in, but wasn't aimed at having an intense, insightful analysis of anything at all. I loved it. In fact, I loved it as much as I love Better Than Chocolate.
Obviously, intelligent scripts commenting on society and so on are just way beyond me. I'm about the pretty and the feel good. There is no hope for me ;-)