I got home this morning to a very irate cat howling at the door, after spending the night at Chris & Andrew's apartment. I headed on down to Hell's Kitchen yesterday evening to join them for dinner at Druids, a kind-of-Irish-though-not-really pub not far from their apartment, and then we watched Children of Men, Alfonso Cuaron's newest movie now out on DVD. The boys didn't seem overly impressed, but I found it disturbingly haunting and beautiful, in its way, and have since added the novel upon which it is based to my Amazon wish list. I use my Amazon wish list more as a a way of keeping track of books I've heard or read about and might want to read some day, helpful when you have a brain as swiss-cheesey as mine. Anyway, I thought it was an excellent movie and am glad the boys were willing to indulge my fondness for dystopian, post-apocalyptic, or at least post-normal, fantasy.
Last week, I accidentally bought a half gallon of whole milk instead of my usual 1%. I don't think I've drunk whole milk since I was a kid, when my parents encouraged us to order a glass of milk with our meals on the rare occasions when we ate out in restaurants, for some reason most memorably at the Gateway in Harrison, Idaho. It's thick and rich, delicious in coffee or tea, and I've even been eating my morning bowl of cold cereal with it, and making chocolate milk (one of my all-time favorite things, only defeated in the best-drink-ever department by chocolate malted milk) with it. I can't even begin to describe the luxuriousness, the decadence of drinking a glass of chocolate milk made with whole milk. Oh my god. It's going to be hard to return to that 1% milk, even if it is healthier. Maybe in another twenty years or so I'll make this same "mistake" again.
A filly won the Belmont Stakes yesterday afternoon, for the first time in over a hundred years. Andrew and I were making fun of CNN stories on his new computer, but when I saw the Belmont Stakes headline I started shrieking a little. Chris and Andrew kind of looked at me funny. It took me a minute to realize that they didn't know what a filly was, and couldn't understand why I'd care. I don't care about the Belmont Stakes particularly, but The Black Stallion's Filly (and all the other Walter Farley books, for that matter) was amongst my favorite books as a child. It's not every day that a filly takes on and defeats the big boys in these races, and I guess I just got a little carried away.
This morning I read about a movie called The Dead Girl, which looks pretty interesting. So I went to Netflix, did a title search, and added the movie to my list. But then I couldn't help but peruse the other movies with similar titles that came up. My favorites?
Dead Girl Walking (2005), "about Sayuri, a girl who unexpectedly 'dies.' Her body starts to decompose but won't quit working, and Sayuri is fated to continue walking the earth. When her sight and stench become unbearable, her family tries to kill her for good. Sayuri escapes and runs away, only to be abducted by a mysterious stranger who forces her to perform in a freak show for other strangely clad men. Is this her destiny?"
Revenge of the Living Dead Girls (1987), "a gore fest from France, this chiller combines horror, sex and environmental disaster. Deadly waste contaminates the milk supply in a small town, and the tainted milk kills three teenage girls who drink it. When more chemical waste accidentally falls on their graves, the girls' corpses rise from the dead. Now, the zombie sexpots are determined to destroy those responsible for the corrupted milk -- along with anyone who gets in the way."
Last week, I accidentally bought a half gallon of whole milk instead of my usual 1%. I don't think I've drunk whole milk since I was a kid, when my parents encouraged us to order a glass of milk with our meals on the rare occasions when we ate out in restaurants, for some reason most memorably at the Gateway in Harrison, Idaho. It's thick and rich, delicious in coffee or tea, and I've even been eating my morning bowl of cold cereal with it, and making chocolate milk (one of my all-time favorite things, only defeated in the best-drink-ever department by chocolate malted milk) with it. I can't even begin to describe the luxuriousness, the decadence of drinking a glass of chocolate milk made with whole milk. Oh my god. It's going to be hard to return to that 1% milk, even if it is healthier. Maybe in another twenty years or so I'll make this same "mistake" again.
A filly won the Belmont Stakes yesterday afternoon, for the first time in over a hundred years. Andrew and I were making fun of CNN stories on his new computer, but when I saw the Belmont Stakes headline I started shrieking a little. Chris and Andrew kind of looked at me funny. It took me a minute to realize that they didn't know what a filly was, and couldn't understand why I'd care. I don't care about the Belmont Stakes particularly, but The Black Stallion's Filly (and all the other Walter Farley books, for that matter) was amongst my favorite books as a child. It's not every day that a filly takes on and defeats the big boys in these races, and I guess I just got a little carried away.
This morning I read about a movie called The Dead Girl, which looks pretty interesting. So I went to Netflix, did a title search, and added the movie to my list. But then I couldn't help but peruse the other movies with similar titles that came up. My favorites?
Dead Girl Walking (2005), "about Sayuri, a girl who unexpectedly 'dies.' Her body starts to decompose but won't quit working, and Sayuri is fated to continue walking the earth. When her sight and stench become unbearable, her family tries to kill her for good. Sayuri escapes and runs away, only to be abducted by a mysterious stranger who forces her to perform in a freak show for other strangely clad men. Is this her destiny?"
Revenge of the Living Dead Girls (1987), "a gore fest from France, this chiller combines horror, sex and environmental disaster. Deadly waste contaminates the milk supply in a small town, and the tainted milk kills three teenage girls who drink it. When more chemical waste accidentally falls on their graves, the girls' corpses rise from the dead. Now, the zombie sexpots are determined to destroy those responsible for the corrupted milk -- along with anyone who gets in the way."
1 comment:
I wasn't that impressed with 'Children of Men' either... even though I'm quite partial to the dystopia genre... The story just didn't quite hold me.
Post a Comment