I've been walking on air the past few days. Everything seems so right in the world, and every sensation seems to have been heightened. That's what happens to me when it starts to turn colder outside. Until it overshoots and becomes ridiculously cold outside. Like with snow and stuff.
Went on a date last night with Racherella. She invited me. We dressed up in outrageous golf clothes and went miniature golfing at Trafalga. Ronnie and Chris came, too, which was awesome, even though they kept bickering with each other. They almost used to date. The girls had on these matching little miniskirts and tall argyle socks. They went in and flirted with the boys at the counter and scored us free games. I'm telling you, it's so nice to have hot girls around. We went to IHOP after that, and I got a french toast breakfast.
Ok, I just wrote several paragraphs about enemies and how we make them. But then I got bored with writing it, so I figured you'd get bored with reading it, so I erased it. I need to find something else to talk about. Maybe something light. Whatever flits into my head. Here we go.
Smith's had candy bars on sale a few weeks ago for three for a dollar. So I bought tons and put them in my second dresser drawer, and forgot about them. Then every time I was frantically looking for something, I would pull open that drawer and be surprised and eat the candy and I wouldn't be so stressed. Being this forgetful is great because it means you can surprise yourself. I could probably hide my own Easter eggs.
I saw Dark Water with Jennifer Connely. Booooring. Jennifer is great, but this movie sucks. The first hour of the movie, it seems as though it's just a Lifetime Channel melodrama about a divorcing woman who moves into an apartment with a nasty leak in the ceiling. Except, there are two differences. Every time they zoom in on the leak, they play eerie dissonant music and then flash to a series of external shots of the apartment complex. And the whole thing is shot through a filter to make everything look dingy and greenish. The movie climaxes suddenly and too late. It was like watching a scary movie from Cleanflix, with all the scary parts taken out. There was only one attempt at making the audience jump, and it failed completely because it was a false-alarm scare (the janitor is in the elevator and we didn't expect him [except we did]), and the scariest thing we'd seen to that point was just a little bit of black hair coming out of the faucet. John C. Reilly, as the apartment manager, is supposed to be comic relief, but while he is comical, there is nothing from which the viewer needs to be relieved. He ends up feeling like just all the other otherwise cheerful components of the film that fail to be made creepy by the sea-water lighting and clanging music. Don't go see this movie, folks.
I went to my secretary's birthday party. Not a huge fan of parties where I end up being the majority of the entertainment. There was some techno music playing, and everybody just sat around on the couches. At one point Jenny and some guy posed for photos and made it look like they were snogging. I made a mess with styrofoam. One of the roommates made a chocolate cake with strawberries and cream cheese frosting, which was good, but maybe a bit too busy.
I made my first computer joke today. I feel like a sell-out. My friend Kreig takes phone calls from technophobes and helps them with their computer issues. I had the following conversation on msn instant messenger:
Kreig: I am on the phone call from h***!
Smurf: They have computers there?
Smurf: They must be Dells.
Kreig: I'm going to get into trouble for laughing at this caller.
Man, I will sink to any level for a laugh.