grey light

I actually rose out of bed at 9am on a Sunday for the first time in who knows how long. I'm not sure whether to blame the wine, the movies, or the rain.

The drive was hellacious. One of my windshield wipers came off, so we had to stop in South Austin to replace it, and then driving on 35 in the sheeting rain was one of the least fun experiences ever. I was doing 45mph at points and still felt wildly unsafe, especially when the left lane was full of people driving about 80. A couple miles from our exit we saw a pickup truck facing the wrong way and on the driver's side across the lefthand lane. I could see the ambulance parked on the other side of the barrier, a toolbox and junk scattered on the wet pavement.

At long last though we made it to the Little House to pet the snaggletooth cat, eat pizza, make emergency runs to the gas station for corkscrews, consume copious amounts of red wine, and watch movies. Finally saw Gangs of New York which was a brilliant movie except for all the bits after the Butcher's death. I didn't even recognize Cameron Diaz, which was a good thing, and gods above how creepy fantastic is Daniel Day Lewis. And people said the South was uncivillized? Wow.

As a nightcap, we saw 24 Hour Party People which was enjoyable and weird. Parts of it crakced me up, especially in regards to how bloody polite the British can be even when getting blow jobs from prostitutes in the back of a car. "Do you mind if I..?" I'm far too young to remember much of that era, as Ian Curtis killed himself the same year I was born. But it was a curious and interesting thing to behold.

The coffee calls me, and I think we're seeing Kill Bill later on. More movies, laziness and drinking to come.

(And yes, I heard the scores on the radio.)

feast of film

We still haven't decided what to think of Kill Bill, other than the certainty that years on an island smoking dope have only made Quentin Tarantino more self indulgent than ever. The film comes across exactly as a graphic novel penned by a ten year old boy, complete with excessive gouts of blood and chicks beating up on each other.

On the bright side, we saw preview for Matrix Revolutions and the Return of the King! Oh my oh my oh my. The third Matrix film looks like it's going to fill in some gaps and make a bit more sense, especially in regards to Agent Smith. I can't wait.

I think I've seen more movies this weekend than I've seen in a month. After our theater excursion, and some Dairy Queen goodness, we've seen Bulletproof Monk, Far From Heaven and Holes.

Cate's been packing up her place, and instead of packing some things, they are coming home with me. I have eight new pairs of shoes, which beats any weekend Melynda's come home with shoes I bet. They are some swanky shoes too. I have a pair of brown shoes for the first time in my life, along with some comfy velvet boots, silvery grey heeled mary janes, some sensible loafer types and one pair of sparkly heeled dancing shoes. We are much amused.

Alan's raiding the fridge as I type. He's so cute. Cate's sending us home with food as well, pesto, rum, canned plums, all kinds of delicious things.

I'm going to miss her so much. Even though she wasn't a daily presence, knowing that she was nearby was very comforting. Cate's been a sort of older sister to me in these past few years, and one of the very best friends a person could have. Her advice has always been right, and it was her own fairy tale that restored my faith in love and happy endings. (Which coincidentally or not, happened not so long before I met Alan) She's one of the people I admire most in the world. I've always had the feeling that nothing could bring this woman down, that she would always come up fighting. The love and affection I've seen her bestow on her boys is one of the rare things that makes me consider having a family of my own. Just knowing that she's seen and lived through so much bad makes it all the more impressive. I want to be like her one day.