the Dalaverse

Am I the only one in the world who has absolutely no interest in this "The Apprentice" thing?

Vanessa's not back yet. Dunno where she went -- she had something before class, and then something after class, and why am I watching WWF?

Damnabbit, now I need to get used to using the DVD remote to change the channel. Not that I'm complaining. I flove my giant birthday present! Now I can watch movies sprawled out on the floor, just like it was meant to be, rather than all hunched up at my desk. You can't hold a decent movie marathon in a wooden campus desk chair.

I guess I never did get around to writing about spring break. It wasn't terribly eventful, to be honest. Mostly I remember the movies. I rented "Lost in Translation" -- loved. Bill Murray was fantastic and I liked Scarlett Johansen way back when she was the daughter in "The Horse Whisperer." Also, she's normal-person-sized, which makes me happy. "Matchstick Men" was cute. Then I went on a Depp binge -- rented "The Ninth Gate," which was...not an objectionable way to pass two hours. First, Johnny was brutally hot in this one. The beginning had the patented Polanski creepiness of "Rosemary's Baby," even if the plot went incomprehensible eventually (I still don't know what the fuck to make of the ending). And, also a Polanski trademark: gratuitous sex scenes. That means naked Johnny ::swoons:: Yeah, not fully naked or anything, but I'm not picky. He got to be sweaty. Continuing with the theme, I bought "Edward Scissorhands" for nine bucks at Sams Club. I don't know how I managed to get through my childhood, with cousins whose favorite movie was "Cry Baby" (Christ on a stick, does ANYBODY else remember that? I'm still trying to track down a copy), and yet I never once saw "Edward Scissorhands," not even little snippets. I adored it instantly. First, it was a great, dreamy Tim Burton fairy tale, and second, Johnny with the giant sad eyes and the soft voice and the pout -- oh dear lorf the pouty mouth....anyway, it was actually quite a traumatic experience because I wasn't expecting the ending at ALL. No, not even with the little opening -- a. I'm dumb when it comes to stuff like that and b. I'd forgotten all about it. So I sobbed really hard for about ten minutes after I finished watching it.

Also decided to become more familiar with Robert Rodriguez, so I rented "Desperado" and discovered that, lo and behold, they'd thrown "El Mariachi" on the other side of the disc! So woo, two movies for the price of one. The first was pretty fucking awesome considering its cost. Carlos Gallardo, though I much prefer Antonio (Antonnnnio...), is cute. And I couldn't get the commentary to turn off, but Rodriguez had some interesting things to say, so I didn't mind. I actually turned the Spanish subtitles on in an attempt to practice my mad skillz, but listening to director + watching movie for first time + reading and mentally translating subtitles was bound to make my head implode, so I gave it up. Then, "Desperado" -- which I absolutely fucking loved. I'm not sure I would say I liked it better than "Mexico," because I really, really enjoyed "Mexico" both times I saw it, but I'd say that I could watch "Desperado" more often. Gahhhh Antonio. AnTONNNNio. Also, I've had a girl-crush on Salma Hayek since way back in "Fools Rush In." And there was nudity! Yay! I've got such a spur-kink now...

I saw two recent movies too -- managed to convince my dad that he shouldn't make me go see "The Passion of the Christ" on my ownfuckingbirthday, and dragged him to "Hidalgo" instead (which, incidentally, he adored, as I told him over and over he would). I wasn't expecting much from it, so I heartily enjoyed the ride, though it was a bit slow in some parts. But I've said it before and I'll say it again: all I need is horses to make me happy. When we were little, Jessie and I would rent every damn horse movie in the kids section at Blockbusters, even the really shitty ones (Oh "Thoreau: King of the Wild Brumbies" how I miss you). And this movie, it had horses. The horse playing Hidalgo -- or at least the one doing the beauty shots -- was just...well, beautiful. And I don't even LIKE paints! He looked more like a quarter horse than a mustang, incidentally, but that's neither here nor there. Anyway, I started crying the second his head popped up in the first shot. I managed to get myself under control for the most part, but around the end of the race I lost it again, and the mustangs running had me bawling like a baby. Oh, and Viggo wasn't too bad either. All he needed to do to get me to love him was be rugged and tough and love his horse, and he delivered on those accounts.

"Starsky and Hutch," which I saw with Tina and Katherine on Saturday, was funny enough, though not quite as memorable. The slasher in me did enjoy all the subtext, especially the scene with the "sweetener" and Hutch playing the guiter. Muahahaha. Give me the hoyay! Give it, bitch! Also, any spotting of Will Ferrell, in these post-decent-SNL days, is grounds for applause.

What else did I do? I hung out with Meg for a little while at the mall, continuing on her search for a clover-less St. Patrick's Day search (because THEY'RE NOT IRISH, THEY'RE AMERICAN BASTARDIZATIONS -- yes, I've had it drilled into me now). I went outlet shopping and picked up five-dollar pajama pants (with tigers! squee!) and ten-dollar Vans. I remembered that in the used bookstore, there are separate sections for literature and fiction, and that Forester was much more likely to be found in literature. So between the two of us, Daddy and I managed to score the rest of the Hornblower books save two. And in hardcover! That's important, you know. I'm working on Lieutenant Hornblower right now and loving it, more so than the first one.

Also read The Virgin Suicides, which I really liked. Must pick up Middlesex at some point.

Friday night was birthday dinner at Mongolian Grill with the parents. I was highly amused by my mother on her typical two-glasses-of-wine tipsy-fit, and my dad's dead-on Rain Man impressions. Saturday I finally got to see Tina -- Katherine and I went over to have really awesome empanadas and pierogis (spelling? I don't care). I sucked terribly at an old edition of Dance Dance Revolution. We're talking half of everybody else's score here. I can't help that I'm totally rhythmless. That's the sort of thing you can rightfully blame on your parents. Then we headed out the movies, and then Sunday I had to come back. It was interesting trying to stuff all of my stuff, as well as Lizzie's and Katie's, into the Cheese. I don't think it was very happy, but it made the trip with no problems.

Then this whole week, which has been so busy that it's just flown by. I'm going to try to get some more writing out before I leave tomorrow, because I know I'm not going to get anything done at home.

And that...that's about it.

I'm going to watch "Ultraviolet" again to get a hit of Jack Davenport.