the Dalaverse

To start things off, a quick ( mini-review of <i>Zooropa</i>. )

In the local news, that bite thingy on the back of my knee bothered me so badly on Tuesday that I left work early (waaaay early) to see the dermatologist. What can I said in my defense? The office had plenty of people there, and Ellen freaked me out when she said it looked like a spider bite (I kept remembering that Alvin Schwartz scary story where the spider lays little spider eggs in this girl's cheek and they hatch *full body shudder*) Dermatologist said (after I went the wrong way around Shady Grove Adventist due to my mother's shitty directions, and after I nearly got sideswiped by a moron who can't switch lanes effectively) that it is some kind of allergic reaction, but not infected. He said it looked like poison ivy, to which I've always thought I was immune, because I never got it even while crawling around creeks and woods and Girl Scout camping sites. But apparently you can develop a reaction to it, and it could be a delayed one, meaning that I might have actually come in contact with poison ivy a couple of weeks ago. How much does that suck? "Oh, we don't really know what's wrong with you, but put this cream on it and call us if it doesn't go away." They gave me a prescription for the same kind of ointment I got two years ago for the sun-rash that broke out on my arms during the hockey preseason (and people *coughmymothercough* have the nerve the question my aversion to the sun? I am legitimately allergic to it, for the love of cheese!). It is nice and doesn't smell antiseptic. So far it has helped with both the itchiness and, far more importantly, the weird soreness.

Okay, enough about me and my severely fucked-up skin. Katherine went California and I am sad, because she didn't mention it beforehand -- she called me yesterday and said "I've got to come give you your Harry Potter DVD back because we're leaving for California." And won't be back till just days before her departure for school, I might add. And Jessie is leaving the 16th, and Tina is leaving really goddamned soon if she hasn't left already (I truly truly hope she hasn't -- I will call her tomorrow). And then I will be really really REALLY sad.

::sobs:: Bye to all my friends.

Bleah, today I got myself all worked up thinking about Dad's surgery. It is not such a Scary Thing as my overactive brain makes it out to be, but. Still.

And now I am all bummed out again. Sigh.

Oh, talk of movies, movie talk is always good. Rentals: "Gangs of New York" (much too long, casting problems, but Daniel Day-Lewis and the last hour were fucking amazing), "The Pianist" (exceedingly good, but the kind of movie I could only sit through once -- lurvelurvelurve Adrien Brody!).

Theater: "Seabiscuit" -- oh how it affected me. First off, it was brilliantly acted and filmed (and yes, I knew about all the historical inaccuracies, but do I care? Would I sacrifice Seabiscuit's cimematic last trip in the Santa Anita for the real thing? No, I would not; it made for a more satisfying scene). Second, well, there's the normal public and horses and then...there's me and horses. Many issues there. Suffice to say that I once rode and now I do not, and that I pretty much welled up whenever a horse came onscreen. Especially the gray Smith rescued early on -- it did not look anything like Silver aside from its coloring, but that was enough to have me sobbing quietly. Anywho, I haven't seen an audience actually cheer and applaud during a movie since "The Phantom Menace," and that may have had something to do wtih the fact that it was at the Uptown, otherwise known as the Greatest Movie Theater On Earth.

"Pirates of the Caribbean" -- I finally saw it! And loved it just as much as I thought I would. Apart from the actual plot/sets/acting/directing/rest-of-factors, I will melt for any movie with fencing. Really, a bunch of people with swords is all it takes. It could be the worst movie ever, in undubbed unsubtitled Sanskrit, but as long as you've got reasonably trained stuntmen slashing at each other with shiny swords, I am a happy camper. That being said, it really was a good flick and Johnny Depp was a tour de...swish. Orlando is cute and all (though I found his sillt tiny mustache extremely distracting), but Johnny fucking owned this movie. Man, I loved 'im. Even more than I loved the Gay Evil Pirate Pair, which was sort of a throwback to classic, animated, Disney-at-its-best sidekick camaraderie (yes, the villains can have camaraderie!) Actually, the two inepty British soldiers reminded me a whole lot of the vultures from "The Jungle Book."

Okay, I'm in a better mood now :)

*British bird accent*
"What do you want to do?"
"I dunno, what do you want to do?"
"I dunno, what do you want to do?!"