Last night we ventured to a fantastic, yet slightly morbid, event – the Hollywood Forever Cemetery movie screening. The venue attracts thousands of tourists every year, each vying for a glimpse of its high profile clientele. Not the type of star sightings I would prefer, but at least these celebs don’t run when you snap a pic.
As we were walking to the movie site my friend (hi Kim) spotted a six foot hole with a casket about to be lowered into the ground. Chilling. Otherwise, it was surprisingly easy to adapt to the surroundings once wine and Milk Duds were in hand.
The movie was Sixteen Candles – a timeless Ringwald. This genre (i.e., Pretty in Pink, Say Anything) always stirs us adolescent nostalgia for me. Aaaah…the exquisite pain of being in love. The feeling that your heart may burst if he doesn’t call. The fear that you may actually die when the breakup happens. The enviable innocence of having a complete lack of perspective. While I would never go back, sometimes I can’t help but to miss the days before I knew what a self defense mechanism was.
If you haven’t seen this movie in awhile go rent it. At the very least, it is worth a laugh.
I am about a year behind with this post, but I just got around to watching There Will be Blood. You may remember that this movie received widespread recognition including eight Academy Award nominations. I expected to be blown away. I wasn’t. Perhaps I am just not one for crude oil, wild west pursuits and abandoning a deaf child. What I will say is that the movie had one of the best scenes, ever!
My current problem is that I can’t stop quoting the milkshake scene, “I drink your milkshake, I drink it up!” When will it get old? Maybe never….
On to the next topic:
I am not including a weekend recap because, frankly, it wasn’t a great weekend. Both Friday and Saturday I lay awake at night – my mind racing faster than Mario Andretti on his best race day. It is interesting how something relatively minor can happen and all of the sudden you are propelled down a path of worry and over contemplation regarding everything else in your life. Who is driving this neurotransmitter train we call thought? Clearly I am not wearing the conductor cap after the strike of midnight.
I Drink Your Milkshake – I Drink it Up! Here we go again. Please someone, make the voices stop.
Posted by marcypoz7 
Posted by marcypoz7 
