Goodness me, Lori, those babies are just so sweet! Grace is so pretty pretty pretty, and Noah just looks like a snuggle bug.

egad am I tired. Must go to sleep. Am resisting the temptation to comment on Barton Fink.

We watched Word Play tonight. Me like.

When he puked on that second trip to Miller's Crossing I thought maybe we were seeing someone who wasn't able to deal with violence personally, although he'd stood next to it a lot--his mortality, or killing people.

I guess I'd always taken that as sheer terror. Or, maybe terror is a bad word, but being aware that he's fucked. So, not about violence in general, but about his own death in the air.

I love Hudsucker Proxy but it does rely on you knowing the tropes they're playing with. Haven't seen Barton Fink in quite a long time, I feel like I appreciated it but didn't enjoy it. Didn't not-enjoy it, either, but there was a lot of "yes, I see," in my reactions. I wish I still had the Film Comment article where they counted the number of times "head" appeared in the movie. I think that was contrasted with the "hat" count in Miller's Crossing but I may be blurring things. I should rent it though. After I'm done with The Shield.

I'm certain I should go to sleep now. I'm gonna do that.

I love Hudsucker Proxy but it does rely on you knowing the tropes they're playing with.

Also, you have to not hate Jennifer Jason Leigh.

I keep thinking I've seen Barton Fink, and then I remember I'm thinking of Barry Lyndon.

The wonderful thing about The Shield is that spoilage can't touch it because the continuity is just so freaking tight. (It brings to mind my favorite film prof who told us that when we were writing, we should strive to make every scene either surprising or inevitable, and The Shield does both at once on an almost frighteningly regular basis.)

I'm spending the weekend preparing to go back to work on Monday, which so far has meant a fair amount of sobbing while I hold D and think things like "This is the last 2:37 pm on a Friday we'll have together!" Dear hormones, you win. Love, Jess.

Come to think of it, that's how I'd describe much of Whedon's plotting oeuvre to me -- "inevitable but surprising" which is a neat trick to pull off.

I had a gronkified night with serious insomnia to the tune of rewatching an episode of Dirty Jobs and most of the recent Flash Gordon -- if I lasted through the latter, you know I was hurtin'.

Today should be better, right?

you have to not hate Jennifer Jason Leigh

That's probably the hard part. I remember so little about it that I suspect I just slotted in a "thumbs up" where an honest reaction to the movie should go.

Now I'm wondering about Peter Greenaway. I have a similar "No, I really like him" feeling about his movies as I do/did to the Coen brothers. Potentially unsubstantiated also.

Ah, well.

I'm up because I had a weird not-nightmare. I just couldn't remember where I was or where I lived. The simplest way for me to assure I'm not dreaming is to conjure with conviction what's outside my bedroom window.

And it totally wasn't coming with ease after last night's strange (but not scary) dreams. Couldn't even remember what country I lived in.

Had to wake all the way up for that.

And here I am.

Morning!

I went to the farmers market and manage to only buy two pints of wild strawberries this week, not 5lbs.

Oh, and Montreal is collapsing: [link]

Now I'm wondering about Peter Greenaway.

I was wondering the same thing about him recently. I was looking at Michael Gambon in Order of the Phoenix and I found myself wondering if The Cook, The Thief, His Wife and Her Lover would still hold up.

Just when I think Noah and Grace can't get any cuter, I click a link and am pleasantly surprised. I'm glad Gracie has been moved to a nicer facility.

DH is off to run a 5K in what promises to be a hot, humid, sticky day. The kids and I are in the back yard where it's still shady and cool.

I'm looking at pool hours around here on the web, and not finding the information I need. Like, yesterday afternoon I was on a backstreet in Cambridge and found an MDC swimming pool that I'd never noticed before AND it wasn't chockablock with kiddos at 3 PM on a Friday afternoon. You could almost go in swimming, I think.

Oh, and Montreal is collapsing

Dude. That's the centre of the city.

I found myself wondering if The Cook, The Thief, His Wife and Her Lover would still hold up.

I saw that relatively recently enough that I think it might. The Draughtsman's Contract, OTOH, I fear for my memory of.

Okay, back to sleep, now that I am sure I live in the US and not London.