 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
|
Wednesday, Happy birthday, America, whatever. . . I'm bored. Bored bored bored. I just cleaned and vacuumed my bathroom, and now I'm considering dusting the tops of the fanblades, I'm so bored. That's the only problem about being here on my own during holidays -- I have nothing to do and nobody to do it with. I may wind up going to see CATS AND DOGS this afternoon, or maybe I'll see if I can find out where some of the firework shows are going to be tonight. I suppose if I was an industrious little girl I'd be writing or getting this office into shape, or maybe stripping the rest of the stain off the treadle sewing machine. Then again, my writing brain seems to be in neutral, I look around the office and think, "Hey, there's a path to the desk, and I can pretty much reach or find anything I need. That's good enough for now," and I just took a shower and don't feel like getting filthy all over again. Yeah, I know, this sucks. I'm sorry to be whining about it, but hey, if I can't whine in my own journal where can I whine? Hey, maybe someone will take pity on my lonely ass and suggest something. Anyone wanna go see a movie? Fireworks? Sit on a rock and watch the traffic go by? Man, I must be getting desperate. . . And following the axiom that the squeaky wheel gets the grease, it was literally moments after I posted this that I got an email from my friend and ex-coworker Erin, who was also sitting home bored and wanted to know if I was interested in coming over and watching the fireworks from the roof of her apartment complex's parking garage. Hell yes, I said, and zipped downtown to her absolutely beautiful apartment complex. Oh, man, I would kill or die to live there -- it has a view of downtown Dallas, and at night it's simply stunning. After the necessary introduction to the three kitties and a tour of the place, we sat around for awhile reviewing the situation at TBS, my hunt for work, her ongoing furniture crisis and other entertaining subjects, before realizing that what we really wanted to do was go see CATS AND DOGS. A brief interval on the computer to check times, and we were in her truck and on the way to the nearest Loew's. Yes, the movie is just as silly and funny as the trailer makes it look -- the filmmakers did the smart thing and didn't let Jeff Goldblum steal the movie, which is what makes it work. And Sean Hayes may have just voiced the funniest diabolical cat overlord since. . .well, ever (I was thinking of Jeremy Irons' turn as Scar in THE LION KING, but that wasn't nearly as funny). By the time we got back to her apartment it was starting to get dark -- we killed some time watching "Bring It On," then headed up to the parking garage. A bunch of other people had gotten the same idea, and by the time we arrived there was something of a low-key party in progress, with a car stereo providing Garbage's "Version 2.0" as soundtrack. It was perfect, simply perfect. The glorious skyline of Dallas loomed almost in our laps, with bursts of fireworks going off all along the horizon and a few stray starshells going off almost downtown, and Shirley Manson crooning, "I won't take it like the other girls" in the background while Erin took pictures with her digital camera (being the doofus that I am, I forgot mine at home). And then the full moon came out from behind a building, and we watched it move slowly across the sky. This may have been the best 4th of July I've ever had, just from that one hour. It just goes to show -- when in doubt, post a cry for help on your journal. Hmm, wonder if that would work for getting a job. . .
|
|
Welcome | Lewis
Carroll | Speculative Fiction | Cool Canadian Bands
|
