Alright, everyone, this is going to be a simple little post, detailing the past week and how I've been feeling lately. Might I start off with the fact that, for an hour and thirty minutes, I was working out? More like a healthy exercise, which caused me to sweat profusely. Afterwards, I took a refreshingly hot-and-cold shower in one of those bathtub/shower combinations. Then, dripping from the shower, I hobbled over to my bedroom and told my mother some useful nutritional facts about which foods help specific needs of the human body. For instance, flaxseeds and sweet potatoes are wrinkle defenders, just as doughnuts and French fries decrease one's chances of conceiving a child. Interestingly useful, yes? I, then, dried my hair to a silky smooth and decided it was time to spend quality time with my baby brother, who is now coming up with witty sentences. Innocent childishness is probably the cause of it. Dutifully, I spent nearly an hour with him, without breaks, and one could be confident in assuming I felt relieved and accomplished for doing so. I must add that my calves are extremely tight, most likely from the steady work-out routine I've been practicing. Each step I take is just another slightly-painful clench for my entire leg. My calves are the only section which feels effected by my extraneous exercise schedule. (Extraneous? That sounds about right.) Unfortunately, my thighs have been feelings a bit...softer than what I'd expect. Perhaps it's my low self-esteem acting up again. One may wonder, why the sudden urge to increase my exercise dosage? Well, my friends, later this August, I'll be venturing to Walt Disney World once again. Henceforth, I would like--rather, love--to look stunning when I depart for the magical land. Same as last year, I have made a sort of resolution to meet a perfect stranger and engage in a "summer fling". Preferably with an older man. That's right, a man. I'm sick of these immature boys. It's almost impossible to find one who has actually heard of The Artist. More like, impossible. There is one, but he finds me to be immature for his tastes. How ironic. That would be considered irony, correct? The last guy I've been with was [censured], and that was nearly three weeks ago. While that may not be that long for the average girl, the fact that it was the only guy I've ever been with, intimately, it's rather sad. No sex was involved, I can assure you, for that would be utterly tragic if there was. You can see why I am quite anxious to meet someone in the foreign and whimsical land of Walt Disney World. The fact that he is there, alone, is enough to sweep me off my feet. Again, an older man would suffice.
I feel I am getting off course. Yes, my day thus far. After playing with my little brother, I sat down on my leather loveseat and prepared for my lunch-slash-dinner. For a "first course", a delicious salad with avocado, mango salsa, and cucumbers. The ideal summer treat. Following typical procedure, I finished only a slight more than half of it, preparing for my entree, which I would feast upon an hour later. Today, just as any other day, I was pleased to see a plate full of sautéed vegetables, which included colorful zucchini, eggplant, squash, red and green peppers, red potatoes, mushrooms, and sun-dried tomatoes. Oh, how scrumptious. My mother is quite the chef, believe it or not. And no, I cannot cook anything but eggs. And, may I say, I cook them to perfection. Oh, I forgot to mention: I had a small glass of gin-and-tonic. Instead of tonic water, which is full of carbonated gunk and high-fructose corn syrup, I substituted Perrier sparkling water. And a lemon. Now, doesn't that all sound delightful? It sure was. I am proud to say that I did not fall asleep after my expectedly-tasty cuisine, as I usually do, rather I willed myself to write this very post. Actually, no, I willed myself to begin a certain "project" that I must complete over the summer, as part of the annual request of my "boss". I figured writing this was much more amusing. Aren't you benefiting from this impromptu decision? You bet you are.
Moving on. This won't be a cheerful post on how my life has been. More like a weekly review of the movies I've seen over the past few days. There have quite a lot. (My grandmother just came up to give me my yearly allowance for finishing a job well-done over the past year. I feel so special.) Again, the past five days, I've been with my father, celebrating my graduation I suppose, and we have seen an impressive amount of movies over this weekend. Expect a bundle more for the next two months to come. Do not expect, however, a review for each and every one. I'm trying, fellas, honest! For now, I hope you will be satisfied with what I have now.
m. Realizing what magic the three made together, as well as on their own, truly makes their absence devastating. Just now, I watched Walter Matthau's salute to Jack Lemmon at the American Film Institute's Lifetime Achievement Ceremony, witnessing the genuine friendship between the two actors. Watching those clips, Oscar acceptance speeches and all, as well as their films, truly brings tears to my eyes. I think to myself, "Boy, what would it be like to have dinner with one of them? That would sure be swell." I'll wrap this up right now and say that you wouldn't want to make the mistake of missing a film of the delightful Odd Couple.
"It's hard enough to write a good drama, it's much harder to write a good comedy, and it's hardest of all to write a drama with comedy. Which is what life is." --Jack Lemmon
I think that just about does it for now. I was going to elaborate into the various other movies I've watched these past few days, but then thought to myself, "No, Dallas is on at nine." Yes, I am victim to the soap opera full of backstabbing and where the dialogue is laced with the passionate "Now, listen to me, god-dammit", or a form of it. I decided to watch it because I was curious to see exactly what this huge phenomenon was all about. "Who Shot J.R.?" Even those who've never watched the show have heard of that! So, I decided to tune in every Wednesday night at nine to see what all the fuss is about. Turns out, it's all about financial conniving and trickery, though the corny pseudo-serious acting is there. Despite my lukewarm interest, I continue to watch it because I enjoy the idea of having a show to watch on-the-dot every week. It gives me a sexual thrill. What's wrong with me?
Here they are, in order:
The Front Page
The Dark Knight
The Fortune Cookie