Bit of meta irony – but heaps of of praise as well. Seriously, I LOVE Kathryn Bigelow. She’s the only reason I even gave a crap about the Oscar this year. Well that, and, apparently, some homoerotic innuendo involving the ever-reliable Jeremy Renner. Mmmm.
But screw men for a second (in every which way, darlings). You know what I still like about International Women’s Day? The fact that over here in the former USSR, it’s women who congratulate each other very sincerely.
I’m also glad that tonight, instead of sitting in a cafe, I will be attempting my first short film shoot along with my wonderful, also female co-director. I like to think this is all very symbolic.
And now I am getting way, way too corny for words.
[insert dick joke]
It’s odd for me to hear Letterman ask if Jordan was “foreboding.” I keep forgetting that many Americans view the Middle East as a generally horrifying place. It’s really unfortunate, particularly in the case of a country like Jordan, because it’s so beautiful. And yes, it was tough as hell on me, I didn’t like living there, I didn’t like the kind of negative attention I got as a foreign woman, and I did run away, far away, but for a male visitor in particular, Jordan is anything but “foreboding,” I think.
In other news, that is one hell of a deserved Academy Award nomination right there.
Intense “28 Weeks”-era Jeremy Renner agrees. Speaking of intense, this guy has never been in a romantic comedy, I don’t think. Let’s hope he never will be in a romantic comedy. (Not that romantic comedies are bad on principle, but come on, the last good one I saw was “My Best Friend’s Wedding.” I didn’t even have a driving license back then.)
For Dad. Happy Birthday.
The ice outside looks like whale blubber. Nobody is cleaning it up, because that’s something that people in civilized countries do, and it’s not like we can have anyone forgetting where it is they live. It would be vastly unpatriotic, etc. I don’t have any ambitions to prevent myself from falling again, I just hope I’ll avoid breaking any bones this winter. I have written, and rewritten, a play that, much like Paula from “40 Year Old Virgin,” haunts my dreams. I have murdered many shots. I need a break, you guys. And so do you. Continue reading “Beautiful People, the “beauty won’t save the world, but it will come pretty damn close” edition”