outer-jessie's Diaryland Diary

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Going backwards. And movies.

I...feel...funny. I feel horrible, I feel good, I feel amazed, I feel horny, I feel like something is about to happen. You know what it is, don't you. My hormones are taking me on a Magic Carpet Ride and the rest of you suckers are just going to have to wait on the ground. Not only is there not enough room for you, you do NOT want to be there when I turn this baby around and crash it into the Pru. I would never forgive myself if my hormones killed you.

Oh crap, I work this weekend. Oh wait! This is actually fabulous news! Or is it? If I work this weekend, I get another day off somewhere else in the week. I could take off Friday and leave for Mount Holyoke on Thursday afternoon, giving me three glorious days of fun. But is three days too much on my friends? After all, they have classes on Friday. Oh my heavens I would love to sit in on some Mount Holyoke classes again. But that's beside the point. I don't want to make myself a pain in the arse. sssssssssssssssssssssssssssss Oops, was leaning on the keyboard while I took a bite of my all-too-hard bagel.

What did you guys do this weekend? Rob and I were on the verge of going out dancing with my cousin. I was all dressed up and raring to go, even though I knew it was a lost cause. Rob had nothing to wear but jeans, and jeans are not allowed at ManRay. Even though my trumped up late-night dance club persona had only a brief showing, Rob did say I looked like Christina Ricci, so it wasn't a total loss. I think she's hot. Quite a bit hotter than the real-life me. Now the only thing to worry about it the fact that Rob lusts after Christina Ricci in his spare time.

Eh.

Yesterday I tried talking like a normal person. I decreased the speed of the words coming out of my mouth by about half. If you ask me, I sounded like an alien. An alien robot. All you people can have your slow talk if you want it; I'm all set. You may not be able to understand half the crap that rolls off my tongue, but maybe that's the way I want it. Ever think of that, punk?

Melissa, I was in your neck of the woods yesterday. Rob and I foolishly thought we might be able to see a show on a holiday Monday. No theaters are even open on Mondays, never mind holiday Mondays. Well I'm sorry, I didn't know. Anyway, blah, we ended up at the Loew's cinema, the very one I said I would never go to because it's so expensive. We said we wanted to see a matinee and the ticket guy just laughed. "Ha, ha, no matinees today, only holiday prices!" Very funny. It ended up costing us twenty bucks to see The Others. It was a good movie; too bad I already knew what was going to happen. I have to stop letting my sister review movies for me.

What? I had a point besides the tedious details of my day. I was near Emerson, at Emerson in fact, watching the fresh little children and the less-fresh big children moving their precious crap into big buildings. It made me feel homesick and old and superior. It's not right. I'm too young to be looking at college kids and feeling homesick and old and superior. I'm 21. That should be me. Yeah yeah, we all know, it's my own damn fault. Mostly. Partly my father's too. Sure, graduating in five semesters was cool at the time, but guess what. It wasn't worth it.

Melissa, I was not done telling you what I was going to tell you. I looked for you while I was at Emerson. There, finally, I got it all out. It would have been funny if I had seen you, since I would have had to recognize you from the pictures on your webpage. You wouldn't know me at all because you have no idea what I look like. I could have pretended to be a psychic.

It's great that all the diaries mention people that no one else knows.

I have one further serious question. Has anyone ever seen the movie Crash? Let me rephrase. Has anyone in their right mind ever seen the movie Crash? We rented it yesterday without prior knowledge of it. Supposedly, it won an award. I would like to know exactly which award that might be. I want to tell you guys to see it so you'll understand my feelings on this movie, but I really don't think you should. It was the weirdest mainstream movie I ever needed to know existed. It really kind of made me sick. Even the images of homosex were not enough to do it for me. In fact, even they were revolting. No joke. The boys kissing in Dude, Where's My Car I liked. The men kissing, and even the women kissing, in Crash -- no. Gross. As a matter of fact, I thought Ally Sheedy was gross in High Art. Here's a crazy thought: maybe I have to like the characters to be intrigued by what they do. There was no one AT ALL to like in Crash.

The rant is over, go in peace.

No wait. Go read the plot summary at imdb.com. Wait. Here's the link.

STUPIDEST MOVIE EVER

Ok, now the rant is really over.

No, I lied again. I'm still exploring the imdb entry. This is very weird. This movie was rated most highly (is that right, Katie P?) by women aged 45 and older. There were only ten votes, but that's a high average. That's so strange.

I thought you all might be interested to know that the newest fellow in the astronomy division here at the Harvard Smithsonian was named Young Australian of the Year. I find that incredibly amusing.

That about wraps it up for now. I regret that I had so much nothing to say.

10:12 a.m. - 2001-09-04

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