the Dalaverse

Today, you see, was Cute Blond Guy Day at work, only nobody had the sense to inform me, so I came stumbling in just as Cute Blond Guy #1 (aka Really, Really Cute Blond Boy) was being terribly friendly with my mother and Gail. They were saying something about how he sounds just like his father, while I was zipping up my sweater in the back and freaking out because he was so damn cute, and naturally the talk turned to general parent/child similarities just so my mother could snag my arm as I walked by to log in and say, "Yes, my daughter and I are very different." And then I tried to keep from falling through the floor and hid in the closet until he left. When I emerged, still mortified, Gail and Mom were busy snooping in his chart. "He's six months older than you!" "He's very smart -- he's on scholarship!" "He has an appointment on August 10th!" Shameless yentas, both of them. But I'll come in early that day nonetheless.

Later in the afternoon, another Cute Blond Boy (aka Cute Blond Boy with Blue Bandana) arrived for his cleaning. There was more chart snoopage; this one was also of reasonable age. It was Tracee's turn to play matchmaker. She asked him where he went to school, and he said he was just starting his sophomore year at (in? I don't know schools) Tennessee, and she cuts her eyes at me and said, "[insert actual name here]'s starting her sophomore year too." CBBwBB asked me how I liked it down there, and I said it was fine if a little dull, and asked him what Tennessee was like, and he said it was very laid-back compared to the D.C. area. It was minimal flirting, because honestly, how can you flirt with grown folks tittering five inches away? Especially when one of them gave birth to you and, like, bathed your girly parts on a regular basis? I was at least gratified that I had actually donned makeup for the day -- for earlier, when I returned the movies to Blockbusters in hopes of running into Cute Hispanic Counter Guy. Alas, he was not there today, but at least the personal grooming did not go to waste.

It would actually have been just Cute Boy day, but I disqualified the third contestant -- a younger, darker, less pudgy Alfred Molina lookalike -- because it turns out he's underage. Only by a few months! And he had a full beard! ...But I still felt like a perv.

Anyway. Got more movies, saving my Spanish-language picks for when CHCG is in again (anybody have any recommendations, btw? "Y Tu Mamá También" was kind of my ace in the hole); picked up "Hellboy," "Calender Girls," "Ned Kelly," and the first disc of "Queer as Folk" S1. Watched "Ned Kelly" with the pa tonight. Oh how I love my Heath. It's been awhile, but I can still fangirl him like nobody's business, even with a terrible fakey Grizzly Adams getup. He owned the movie, but I was also interested in our young Mr. Bloom, intending to use this film to determine whether or not he can actually act (because, in all honesty, I wasn't expecting him to do anything in LotR, PotC, or Troy but stand there and look pretty, and maybe pout from time to time). Verdict: ...well, he might get there somebody. He was better in this. Of course I loved that his character was a total slut. Regarding the movie itself, I thought it was very good, though the beginning proceeded a bit roughly. Didn't get enough Geoffrey Rush, but then I don't believe there's such a thing as enough Geoffery Rush. Klaus Badelt did the score, and I liked the generic Celtic strains, but it was too heavy at other times and became really distracting. Favorite scene was when the outlaws first take to the woods and Ned's just shot the guy who was running away, and he's terrified and dying on the ground and Ned is babbling apologies and trying to shush him and finally shoots the guy in the head to put him out of his misery. Excellent job from Heath. My favorite line was Joe's "The monkey's been shot! Poor little bugger!" mostly because I read it as a shout-out to PotC. I could have done without the love story, frankly, though Naomi Watts is always pretty to look at. They could've been nakeder, too. I'm always a favor of gratuitous nudity in an action flick. Is it too much to ask for a little Heath ass?

I cried at the end, mostly at Dan and the other guy (I think they said his name twice or so) crying as they shot themselves -- they looked so young -- and when the English dude unwound the sash from Ned's waist. The look he gave Rush's character when he asked for it was priceless.

All in all, two thumbs in salute. But then again I know nothing about the original story, and so I don't know how any changes might have bothered me.

Tomorrow I'm off and so the day shall be spend with Hellboy, the Queer as Folk...um...folk, and the drabble/ficlets I still owe.

It's not really almost August already, is it? What the hell happened to July?