After a full day and then half-falling asleep in front of the Lehrer New Hour (what is it about their soothing PBS voices?), I hit my second wind. I decide to pop back on the computer to do some work. You know that trick you do with yourself when the last thing you want to do is work. Oh, I'll just write a little paragraph. Just a smidgen of a thought to get this project rolling again. Then, I find myself with seven pages open and I'm writing people all over the place. The QOE gave me a link about setting up a subscription process for my blog. Viola! 'tis to the right of this post.
However, you know you are getting old when you sit there and say "hmmm, what do they mean by 'feed' anyway. What is this funky moon language??"
Hours have flown by. And now Project Runway is coming on. I would have put in one of my Netflix movies to multi-task (MUST get all the movies I can for a month) but everything I have is subtitled. That really puts a damper on multi-tasking.
And if I can't find someone to go with me to see No Country for Old Men, I am going to scream. Anyone want to catch the 930 show?? It's only playing at that time and that's a sign that it probably won't be back next week.
I miss all my movie buddies. It used to be that I had friends who would go see any kind of crap with me. Moira would see anything -- the blockbusters and the arthouse (though she had a secret penchant for disaster movies). Jill would see arthouse but it couldn't be gory and I would tolerate romantic comedies at times (so, arthouse romance). I could always count on Kate and Gene to see the science fiction stuff. And my friend, Abel, whom I have not talked to in years (I do blame 911 and the fact that I was a jerk the last time I saw him) would see almost any crappy show (we went to see a matinee of Barb Wire and it was like going into a porno theater. It was just the two of us and men, sitting by themselves scattered throughout). Sometimes I can drag Ken to see something but only if he really wants to see it (and if it's really, really popular, he doesn't want to see it. GAR!).
I also used to go to the movies by myself. When I lived in London, I think I hit all the theatres in that town, watching all sort of obscure stuff (and once, while watching Grosse Point Blank, a guy two seats down thought that by touching my leg with his sock clad feet that I would fall in love with him.). But the idea of going to a movie theater by myself that late is just not as appealing to me as it once was.
Aren't I a sad sack??