Better Living Through Introspection

Inspiration Through Boredom

I watched Playing by Heart last night. Partly because nothing else was on, and partly because I wanted to avoid Gore’s concession on national television and the guaranteed follow-up of mindless blathering by the network talking heads. (What? Just shut off the television? That’s ridiculous.)

Let’s not get too sidetracked.

I was watching Playing by Heart last night and I tell you, it started out full of promise. Any movie that starts out with “Talking about love is like dancing about architecture” is bound to be a strong thought-piece, one that will lead to serious bouts of introspection, analysis and general thought patterns that simply don’t get explored during a tedious day of coding web pages.

After the opening scene, though, the movie started slowly unraveling and by the end — where we’re supposed to appreciate how the many disparate tales told during the course of the movie wind up woven together as threads of a larger tapestry — I was completely disappointed. What could have been a powerful film populated by dynamic, interesting characters was instead a tiny slice of a tiny world populated by tiny little people with the emotions of cardboard and the spirits of a used sheet of fabric softener. I probably shouldn’t have expected so much from a movie written and directed by the producer of Bebe’s Kids. *Sigh* I will now undermine any intelligence I might have communicated in these paragraphs by saying “at least Gillian Anderson was in it.”

At least Gillian Anderson was in it.

I Would Have Switched the B With the G

Bloomberg is always having these parties at the embassy down the road (I think it’s malaysia, or indonesia, or some -sia). Last night walking by, I noticed in addition to the usual over-the-top “our name in lights” nonsense, there was an ice sculpture that spelled out Bloomberg.

This morning, on the way to work, I noticed someone had rearranged the letters and knocked over a couple others so that it spelled “Goober.” Ah, comedy.

Also on the way in (Martin, this one’s for you) I saw a man who had his jeans pegged above his boots. Hellooooooo. It’s almost 2001. Keep your glamour don’ts at home, please.

28 days

and counting. Still no plans. We are so un-organized.