"It's my birthday too, yeah"
So this is rather me, innit? Official birthday post happening at 3 am the next day. :P
I woke up early this morning (well 8 am is early for summer. I swear I've turned nocturnal) and went and saw Dark Knight in IMAX with some friends. My brother got me in free because he works at the theater. :) That's why we went so early. Had to make sure the theater'd be empty enough. Dark Knight? It was good...but *dodges thrown tomatos* not worth the obsession. I know I'm being hypercritical, but it wasn't my favorite. First off, the dear Batman just needs some tea and cough drops, poor guy. Second off, the first time Joker explained his scars...I got a nervous twinge. Mundo points to you, oh batman movie. Explosions, multiple over head shots of the city (In IMAX, may I add), and talk of killing people with knives instead of guns also get you awesome points, filmy film, you. But let me just say that this film did not lack a CHEESINESS FACTOR. *facepalm* HOW many times are you going to be a whiny girl and flip the coin, not actually relying on any brilliant or deformed plan, oh Two-Face? By the third time the coin flipped, I was literally groaning out of the pain of it all. Oh, and showing Cilian Murphy for only one scene? Negative points. :P It's hard not to be spoilery, but I'm trying not to be. But the long short of it is that it was good for a mainstream movie, but nothing to be added to a favorites list.
The rest of the afternoon, I chilled, napped, wrote a short story, read Arthur magazine, was bored, the works.
I don't know how many years it was going to take before I finally realized that I put on too much lipstick. Paris, 1953; Milan, 1964; and today...March 17th, 1965 in no-man's-land.
I've heard that the west is empty, but my experience with emptiness has only been with my affections or my glass. Figures I should find myself here then, I guess. I wiped away the red stain from my brandy glass...empty as the dry desert. Not like it mattered. I needed to stop drinking anyways.
The bell on the bar door rung as the wind wrapped sand and heat around me. I wrestled my hat down closer to my head, attempting in vain to seek shelter from the throbbing sun. The next building over was a convenience store that I hoped had air conditioning. Nope. All there was was an electrical fan cooling a rotund man wearing a white wife-beater.
"Can I help you, tuts?" I had learned to ignore them by now, like they were alien lifeforms in this god forsaken land. I grabbed a glass bottle of lemonade and a bag of pretzels, smearing my lip paint together as he rung it up.
Now came the long walk. I set off down the road with the "have a nice day" plastic bag rattling on my wrist in the gust. A pickup truck came rambling along the road, slowing down to see if I needed any help. No, thank you, this is my journey. Ugh, maybe wearing these black heels in this hell gives off the wrong message.
The sun beat down into my eyes and I was forced to keep walking while looking down at my feet. No more cars zipped by on the street, so I took to walking along the center yellow line, to help keep me sane. Or at least knowing that I could hold down my alcohol.
The wind had died down by now, but my bag kept crinkling with my every movement. Sun rained down like a heavy cloud. Sand was sticking to my sweaty calves. I decided to sit down on the rocky cliff of the mountain. Ouch! The boulder had been too much time soaking up heat. I pulled down my skirt to cover my legs better and sat down anyways. I realized that from here, I could see both the highway and the town I'd just come from. Hmm, better than expected.
I broke open my travel stash, drinking down half of the now-warm lemonade in a single gulp. Pretzels had been the wrong choice, but heh, what right choice had I ever made? At least if I crunched hard enough, I could cover up the mind-bending silence that plagued my ears. I finished the lemonade and kept the bottle in my lap, half wanting to keep it.
Another hot breeze rose up, freeing me from my cell of stillness, but encaging me yet again in its humidity. My empty pretzel bag tumbled down the road which I had come down. I seized the other well-wishing bag from where it had been perched underneath my feet and released it into the open air, watching it fly over the cliff and over the desert floor. My eyes were pinned to it until it rounded the corner and out of sight.
Why he had loved the desert, or the west at all had never made sense to me. It was probably wrong to listen to just an acquaintance that way, anyways. And it was empty. I'll give him that.
My limp muscles protested as I got up from my perch. Did he ever realize how people can melt out here? I bet he had only driven through before. How can you love a barren wasteland?
Sickening. I threw the glass bottle across the street and into the rock face. I don't even know where the hell I'm going.
Yeah...I hate hot weather. Figures I should put it in a story like that. I'm actually sorta proud of this one, too. ^^
The evening consisted of presents (yay clothes and random college stuff like a mug, whoo!), then going to dinner with the family. I stared down at my plate and saw grains of rice bedecked with orange and yellow. The imprint of saffron and turmeric on the kabobs too, was delicious. Man, I love Persian food. It's right up there next to Indian food. :P Then we rented one of my favorite movies "The Darjeeling Limited" and watched that at home. It's brilliant. ^^
Oh, and random marathons of "The Mighty Boosh" online, while being pestered with music recommendations. :P Life, you're not so bad.
Katrina
Ps- I think that they lied when they said seasonal depression occurs in the winter. I swear I get more depressed at my sad and pitiful, boring life in summer. The winter is party time, man. ^^
Pps- Arthur magazine is teh win. As are Vince Noir's glam rock jumpsuits. :P
I woke up early this morning (well 8 am is early for summer. I swear I've turned nocturnal) and went and saw Dark Knight in IMAX with some friends. My brother got me in free because he works at the theater. :) That's why we went so early. Had to make sure the theater'd be empty enough. Dark Knight? It was good...but *dodges thrown tomatos* not worth the obsession. I know I'm being hypercritical, but it wasn't my favorite. First off, the dear Batman just needs some tea and cough drops, poor guy. Second off, the first time Joker explained his scars...I got a nervous twinge. Mundo points to you, oh batman movie. Explosions, multiple over head shots of the city (In IMAX, may I add), and talk of killing people with knives instead of guns also get you awesome points, filmy film, you. But let me just say that this film did not lack a CHEESINESS FACTOR. *facepalm* HOW many times are you going to be a whiny girl and flip the coin, not actually relying on any brilliant or deformed plan, oh Two-Face? By the third time the coin flipped, I was literally groaning out of the pain of it all. Oh, and showing Cilian Murphy for only one scene? Negative points. :P It's hard not to be spoilery, but I'm trying not to be. But the long short of it is that it was good for a mainstream movie, but nothing to be added to a favorites list.
The rest of the afternoon, I chilled, napped, wrote a short story, read Arthur magazine, was bored, the works.
I don't know how many years it was going to take before I finally realized that I put on too much lipstick. Paris, 1953; Milan, 1964; and today...March 17th, 1965 in no-man's-land.
I've heard that the west is empty, but my experience with emptiness has only been with my affections or my glass. Figures I should find myself here then, I guess. I wiped away the red stain from my brandy glass...empty as the dry desert. Not like it mattered. I needed to stop drinking anyways.
The bell on the bar door rung as the wind wrapped sand and heat around me. I wrestled my hat down closer to my head, attempting in vain to seek shelter from the throbbing sun. The next building over was a convenience store that I hoped had air conditioning. Nope. All there was was an electrical fan cooling a rotund man wearing a white wife-beater.
"Can I help you, tuts?" I had learned to ignore them by now, like they were alien lifeforms in this god forsaken land. I grabbed a glass bottle of lemonade and a bag of pretzels, smearing my lip paint together as he rung it up.
Now came the long walk. I set off down the road with the "have a nice day" plastic bag rattling on my wrist in the gust. A pickup truck came rambling along the road, slowing down to see if I needed any help. No, thank you, this is my journey. Ugh, maybe wearing these black heels in this hell gives off the wrong message.
The sun beat down into my eyes and I was forced to keep walking while looking down at my feet. No more cars zipped by on the street, so I took to walking along the center yellow line, to help keep me sane. Or at least knowing that I could hold down my alcohol.
The wind had died down by now, but my bag kept crinkling with my every movement. Sun rained down like a heavy cloud. Sand was sticking to my sweaty calves. I decided to sit down on the rocky cliff of the mountain. Ouch! The boulder had been too much time soaking up heat. I pulled down my skirt to cover my legs better and sat down anyways. I realized that from here, I could see both the highway and the town I'd just come from. Hmm, better than expected.
I broke open my travel stash, drinking down half of the now-warm lemonade in a single gulp. Pretzels had been the wrong choice, but heh, what right choice had I ever made? At least if I crunched hard enough, I could cover up the mind-bending silence that plagued my ears. I finished the lemonade and kept the bottle in my lap, half wanting to keep it.
Another hot breeze rose up, freeing me from my cell of stillness, but encaging me yet again in its humidity. My empty pretzel bag tumbled down the road which I had come down. I seized the other well-wishing bag from where it had been perched underneath my feet and released it into the open air, watching it fly over the cliff and over the desert floor. My eyes were pinned to it until it rounded the corner and out of sight.
Why he had loved the desert, or the west at all had never made sense to me. It was probably wrong to listen to just an acquaintance that way, anyways. And it was empty. I'll give him that.
My limp muscles protested as I got up from my perch. Did he ever realize how people can melt out here? I bet he had only driven through before. How can you love a barren wasteland?
Sickening. I threw the glass bottle across the street and into the rock face. I don't even know where the hell I'm going.
Yeah...I hate hot weather. Figures I should put it in a story like that. I'm actually sorta proud of this one, too. ^^
The evening consisted of presents (yay clothes and random college stuff like a mug, whoo!), then going to dinner with the family. I stared down at my plate and saw grains of rice bedecked with orange and yellow. The imprint of saffron and turmeric on the kabobs too, was delicious. Man, I love Persian food. It's right up there next to Indian food. :P Then we rented one of my favorite movies "The Darjeeling Limited" and watched that at home. It's brilliant. ^^
Oh, and random marathons of "The Mighty Boosh" online, while being pestered with music recommendations. :P Life, you're not so bad.
Katrina
Ps- I think that they lied when they said seasonal depression occurs in the winter. I swear I get more depressed at my sad and pitiful, boring life in summer. The winter is party time, man. ^^
Pps- Arthur magazine is teh win. As are Vince Noir's glam rock jumpsuits. :P