Hmm. Another Tuesday. My Chicago flight is looking quite full, plus I'm a misanthrope who gravitates towards inaction, so we may cancel those plans. Plus with the big Oscar night a-comin' on, we can use the weekend to knock out Letters From Iwo Jima, Notes on a Scandal, and Pan's Labyrinth. I don't think Blood Diamond is gonna happen, it seems to have left the metroplex. Meh, whatever.
But dude, go Netfuxers! Those sneaky bastards somehow got the two Tuesday releases to me TODAY! And considering yesterday had no mail...well, I'm impressed. Which means I've got Babel and Shut Up and Sing! on my hands at this very moment. The first is imperative, as it's an Oscar nominee and gee, if I want to know what's going on next Sunday, I should watch it. The latter, if you recall, I viewed at my old nemisis of a theatre--for whom I did NOT work but with whom we were supposedly sister theaters after a certain Dallas fuckwit billionaire bought the parent company. At least I may or may not have snuck in a bucket of eggnog, heavy on the 'nog. And now I seem to be consuming post-work fuzzy navels (and since I always thought that meant vodka+peach schnapps+OJ, well, that is how I make them. Harry the Bartender from our old theatre informed me once that they are peach schnapps+OJ...but which do you think I'm drinking?), well, it's not certain I will ever see this film completely sober. And D is closing tonight. It's looking fairly ominous for sobriety and a well-prepared dinner.
And in closing, may I just say that Ellen Aim has once again picked out the one gay man in a crowded room and befriended him? It's weird. For the first few days of class he mentioned something about an ex-girlfriend so I thought perhaps I got it wrong (and no, I did not start talking to him BECAUSE I thought he was gay, it just wound up that the two uh, snarkier people found more things to say to each other). And then today he starts telling me about his ex-boyfriend. Took it totally in stride and took note to high-five myself later. Twenty-two people and I befriend the gay man. It never fails. I don't think I ever mentioned this, either: I inadvertently made a gay Sim. Christian, the hot single writer who's looking to be a popular slut? Yup, I played him for a little bit and he brought home another man from work!! Leave it to me. They haven't done "woo hoo" yet, as the game so maturely refers to it. Either I haven't purchased the appropriate bed or the Sims game frowns upon homosexual love-making. But shit, HE'S the one who brought him home! I didn't even have the chance to misbehave on my own! They make out all the time, though. On the lawn and everything.
Ok, time to make another fuzzy navel and watch my DC. (It's not my fault, it's the only Netfux we have that D doesn't also want to see...*cough*). I'm not even a huge fan, I own one album from '98. But I do quite enjoy this song from the newest album... (and no, I have no plans to rename my blog "The Stephen Colbert/Dixie Chicks Blog," I promise to accrue more interests in the very near future)...