Thirteen
Friday, September 12th, 2003Like mother, like daughter.
Like mother, like daughter.
Muddling through this waking life on auto-pilot. Dreams and nothing more.
Structured like a Christmas party sweets table, Love Actually is full of enticing confections without any substance or connection. Which is not to say that some of the tidbits aren’t wonderful.
If you’ve spent the last forty years or so complaining that “they just don’t make movies like that” anymore, then you’ll be happy to know they just have.
Maybe it’s a guy thing.
Surprisingly funny. Well, we were surprised.
Crying over spilled milk. And blood.
AJM got home from work at 15:30. I had just finished painting the bedroom ceiling, showered, and was sitting wrapped in a towel, combing the tangles of of my hair. With the impulse of young lovers, we dashed to the Alamo Drafthouse at the Village to watch
Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow.
The Friday movie group consisted of me, AJM, and M2. First we dined at Manuel’s, which is celebrating its twentieth anniversary. (Katz’s is celebrating its 25th.) I’m sure my patronage has done a lot to keep them both in business. I’ve been a faithful consumer of both from the beginning.
Live action cartoon. I could not stop laughing. Belly-clutching, knee-slapping laughter. Absolutely preposterous.