I’ve been looking forward to today, to this Friday, to June 29, for *months*– and not because of no hyped-up jesus phone, OH NO– but because "Ratatouille" is out today!
Remember? Remember that scene in "Finding Nemo," when the dentist tells Darla that he has a present for her, and she positively lights up with that crazy psycho grin? That’s me. That’s me every time I see ads for or talk about "Ratatouille" . I do Happy Stoll Dances and start bouncing up and down. I’m bouncing up and down just typing this, I’m JUST THAT EXCITED.
Except I probably won’t see it until later next week. So, boo.
 And every time Sean pings me. Man, I could do that all day long and never get tired of it.
I feel all spoiled and pampered and lazy because I don’t wake up or get out of bed until after 9 a.m.
Then I remember that I don’t get *into* bed– let alone fall asleep– until 5 a.m.
Not a whole lot to say  about Himalayan Cuisine, mostly because I don’t know how accurate, overall, our experience there is considering we were there for lunch, didn’t feel like spending an hour narrowing down choices from the menu, and therefore opted (opted out?) for the lunch buffet. Which had been set out over an hour before we had arrived and which I can only presume doesn’t ever get… um… "refreshed."
The nice thing about lunch buffets is, it’s a great way to sample a slew of different dishes and get a better idea of which ones you like and don’t like, and super on the cheap. It’s not listed on their menu or their website or anywhere in the actual restaurant so far as I saw, but the lunch buffet at HC is about $10 ($9.99 on a technicality, if I remember correctly) per person.
The not-nice thing about lunch buffets is, as noted above, they are not necessarily maintained, especially if there isn’t enough traffic to warrant it. There were four other people in there when we walked through the door and no one came in after us the whole time we were there, so… yeah.
I hit a Black-Eyed Peas phase some weeks ago and saw, for the first time, the video for "Pump It."
That opening sequence? Where they’re all in the car, rocking out something hardcore and crazy as they swing madly through the garage? What the shit. How have I not had this in my life all this time?
Inexplicably, it reminds me of two things:
- A friend of a friend lamenting how his girlfriend liked to roll down the windows when she was a passenger in his car and turn the volume and bass WAY, WAY UP– after having put in an N*SYNC album.
- The drive to Fado last Halloween. Remember that, Sean? What the hell was that song, anyway? "It’s Raining Men"? "Ring My Bell"? Whatever, we were all over that, all two-cars-full-o-people of us. Cool night air, windows down, decked out in costumes, destination: booze. Glorious.
What I liked about "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire":
- Cedric Diggory was a total pretty boy. Pat on the back for this one, casting director!
- Barty Crouch looked like Hitler with his little moustache, so that was pretty funny
What I didn’t like about "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire":
- No Quidditch World Cup action
- Harry’s ‘do was kind of douchey
- Fleur had, like, what, two speaking lines in the whole movie?
- Speaking of Fleur, everyone in the room agreed that she was hardly irresistably beautiful
- The new Dumdbledore sucks. A lot. You’d think a guy who graduated from RADA and has been knighted and has this big ol’ long and impressive filmography would make the undertaking of this role a breeze, but he’s just all awkward and hostile and *wrong*, and somehow, he manages to sound American, which is really weird.
- When did Hermione’s hair stop being bushy? They frizzed it out for the first movie.
- Trelawney’s character was cut (no Emma Thompson!)
- Moody looked… really young
- All the stuff in the book that got cut out
- All the stuff in the book that was kept but subsequently was fucked around with
- All the stuff that was made up for no damned good reason
My first workshop was today and, oh, now I *really* can’t wait until CH.
Covered: int. Lindy combinations, aerials (which were *fabulous*), jam circle moves and ’20s Charleston. I faceplanted it on the (concrete!) floor in the third class– actually, more like boobplanted it, since my face never hit, and my knee probably won’t let me forget that for a good week. My thighs are pretty snippy with me right now, too, what from all the squat-preps for being projected through the air, which, seriously? I loved so much. Reminded me of all the years I spent obsessively adoring the world of gymnastics.
Memorable quotes: "Don’t be a fish!", "So it’s one-two-goosh; really try and get that goosh," and "So, question: do we rock-step like we’re rock stars?"
And now it’s into the shower, off to take care of some errands, then out for an evening of good times with great people. And if I get my way, there’ll be a late-night run to Prada ‘bertos involved for some luxury breakfast burritos.
… because neither one of them saw it coming.
See? I’m productive when I study! Way to make efficient use of the brain cells.
I was pretty set on getting a betta fish for my bamboo plant’s vase– how exotic!– for about 15 minutes before I remembered that if I got a fish, I would have to get fish food. To, you know, feed the fish. Which is some sort of requirement for keeping it alive, apparently.
So then of course I thought about the fish inexplicably dying, and having to deal with a dead fish is a *concept* in and of itself which kind of freaks me out thanks to a childhood experience in which I had a huge plastic container thing full of what were basically feeder fish (they were leftover from a school carnival) and the fish would die, like, ten at a time every single day. And did you know that if you don’t remove a dead fish right away, it starts to fizz up and bloat? And that sometimes the remaining fish would start to EAT the fizzy, bloated dead fish? CHILDHOOD. SCARS.
So, nope. No fish.
But this bamboo plant? Man, it’s been under my care for two-and-a-half years now and it’s still going strong. I love this plant. It gives me the false impression that I am a good and responsible plant owner, and what’s NOT to love about that?
First draft, taped to the bathroom door as a joke (WCW had a surprisingly good sense of humor):
This Is Just To Let You Know
I have eaten
all the plums
that were in
you were probably
they were addictive
and so plentiful
He tells me I’m like a panda bear because:
- I’m a dying breed (because I’m [insert combinatorial list of complimentary adjectives]), and…
- I make him smile, even though…
- I won’t mate to save my species
This, after trying to get all scientific less than 24 hours earlier in order to prove to me that I am [insert same list which ultimately = universally desirable] using an argument consisting of the phrase "empirical values."
Best freaking compliments I have heard maybe all freaking YEAR.
[Edit: Didn’t really go like this, but kind of. "Compliment-Tourette’s." Hee!]