I didn't mind it, but I didn't fall head over heels in love with that awkwardly self-conscious hamburger phone.
I started liking the movie around the last third when the self-aware coy/smartassishness let in some genuine emotion and stakes.
I generally agree with this take:
http://nymag.com/daily/movies/2008/01/oscar_nominations.html
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Friday, January 25, 2008
Return of the Bloggin'
Okay, I'm back. Who cares? Me. I care.
I was talking to someone on the phone yesterday who asked if I wrote one of these entries when I was high. These beautiful pieces of literature? No.
But it made me want to write in it again. Here's a tale to file under "Is This Adulthood?"
The bathroom in our office has an energy saver switch. It turned off yesterday when I was in the stall, so I was left in the pitch dark. Immediately, I thought "Candyman, Candyman, Candyman," and then I freaked out, scuttled out of the stall, pants around my ankles, and turned the switch on, and scuttled back to the stall. Because it's okay to be 28 and frightened of a fictional ghost/serial killer that lives in Cabrini Green and comes to get you through the mirror. That's okay.
I was talking to someone on the phone yesterday who asked if I wrote one of these entries when I was high. These beautiful pieces of literature? No.
But it made me want to write in it again. Here's a tale to file under "Is This Adulthood?"
The bathroom in our office has an energy saver switch. It turned off yesterday when I was in the stall, so I was left in the pitch dark. Immediately, I thought "Candyman, Candyman, Candyman," and then I freaked out, scuttled out of the stall, pants around my ankles, and turned the switch on, and scuttled back to the stall. Because it's okay to be 28 and frightened of a fictional ghost/serial killer that lives in Cabrini Green and comes to get you through the mirror. That's okay.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
