You should have told me you were looking for your intellectual equal...I could have introduced you to what's growing on my shower curtain.

I also got mostly caught up on my Netfux this weekend. I re-visited The Piano, which I hadn't seen in probably 15 years. Good stuff, but um, yeah, that's one to watch every 15 years. Not a total downer or anything, it actually had a fairly upbeat ending. Just a little intense. And I still remember little Anna Paquin accepting her Oscar...



Also saw Same Time, Next Year for the first time. I enjoy both Alan Alda and Ellen Burnstyn, I just don't normally seek them out. It had great dialogue, it was very obviously a play first. (I'm not posting any images because it has a really awful poster.) And while it's about two married people meeting once a year for a sexual rendezvous, I was impressed to see that that wasn't what it was really about. It's from 1978 and invariably somewhat dated, but it still survives quite well. It overcomes the occasional cheesiness with genuinely charming moments and one I could easily see again.

As for my books, I finished Twilight some time last week but keep forgetting to mention it. Omg. So I highly advise, if you are going to read it, that you do it in at least one or two sittings. I read most of it in one sitting and was quite into it, despite being well aware of the ickiness factor, and when I returned to it the next couple times I was just even more aware of the OTT teen angst saturating each page. And maybe it's just that the ending is was worse in that regard, but dude, the pages were basically sticking together at that point.

Still, good times. I think I also recommend that you should be female.

Also finally broke down and opened Nights In Rodanthe (hell, I borrowed it, might as well give it a shot) and it's really not all that bad. It's like eating vanilla wafers with flavorless cream in the middle, but it's not as gross as The Notebook. At least, not yet. I don't know what prevents me from reading it in public more: the large print or the name "Nicholas Sparks."

At least it's at J's theater so I can get my Diane Lane fix for free.

Ok, and here it is a few hours later and I have finished NIR. I didn't get to the end, mind you, but I got 15 out of 19 chapters read and you know, that's enough for me. I have seldom read such a dull book with such a straight path, flecked with barf chunks the whole way. Seriously, my cats have hacked up hairballs I found more engrossing. Now granted, I just got done reading Twilight, but they were a good pair to read together. The first I enjoyed for the guilty pleasure and the second I nearly fell asleep. Clearly, Stephanie Meyer got something right. Being female for a start, I suppose...