wow...seriously?

Well, my beloved old roomie called me today. And she told me to leave where I have moved at once so I can go live with her. I think she was kidding.

But the exact same thought crossed my mind yesterday - my boss mentioned this sublet coming up, and I thought 'Man, I wish I hadn't moved and I could live with Stima again.'

So I'm probably going to move. Again. I mean, I haven't really unpacked from the last move. Barely, I suppose - books were unpacked and shelved. There's still a bunch of shit in my car that I haven't moved in yet. Two months, huh? The spirit of my laziness is all knowing.

I just...can't quite cope with my new place. Something about the vibe is off - perhaps it is the balance of power. As in, I am living in someone else's house - not in a cooperatively 'not our house' house. The distinction, while slight, is POTENT.

Six days til it's time to go home...I am positively abuzz with excitement! This is the getaway I have been thirsting for - the good heavens above only know when I will get out of this town again, in spite of all my intentions.

In other news, the beard has finally been shorn. While I do feel a bit facially naked, it is better to look and feel younger on the eve of such a drastic age-change.

'it's come to this' or 'i like movies'

Okay. I kind of swore I would actually pen a blog this eve, rather than just staring blankly at mypace and hitting refresh. In a boredom coma like the one I find myself in now, old habits die hard. Or rather, thinking outside said old and brain-numbing habits requires entirely too much effort.

So, this is it.

This is it? Seriously?

Yeah.

Well, here's the good news: you can rest easy. I saw and loved the new Bond movie. I never thought I could ever accept a blond Bond, but mothafuckin' boy did I, would I and will I! I was kind of giggle-ishly a-quiver (with Bond virgin Renae by my side) at the absolute silly sexiness of Daniel Craig. Movie, plot, action, character, blah blah blah...but DAMN that mothafucka is hot. It was like the entire movie was in on it and winked at you gawking at him. Not a bad thing whatsoever.

Speaking of the beautiful...I had begun to harbor a fear that Scarlett Johansen (or as I know her, Scar-J) had a fluke good-acting virus that quickly evacuated her system following Lost in Translation. I have found myself hating or only vaguely tolerating her beautiful arse in whatever cameo-sized role that was thrown her way. And that most especially applies to Match Point, which I loathe something crazy. But, Woody made it up to me and managed to throw together a really good, humorous and yes derivative film with Scoop. Basically, Scar-J plays Woody in the film. Y'know, cute, babble-y, lucky in a 'in the right place at the very right time' kind of way and somehow managing to hook up with someone who should not really ever do such a thing. Woody also plays Woody - it was surprisingly refreshing to see him in one of his movies again.

Otherwise, the weekend was rather chill. And by chill, I mean lazy and forgettable.

This is what I'm blogging to distract myself from the 13,000-episode saga known as my soul-crumbling existential crisis?

good morning!

I had cookies for breakfast today. Because that's what was in the kitchen. And because it was delicious.

I signed my name on about 300 holiday cards yesterday. I'm kind of shocked I didn't mention that yesterday...it nearly re-programmed my entire existence. My signature began to look like a mongoose preparing to uncoil on top of a barrel, ready to strike at the first unwary wino who crossed its path.

I'm sporting my Dior sweater, because it gives me power. Power to vanquish the annoying. But nothing can destroy the Incubus fans threatening to tear my sanity in two like warring puppies tearing at opposite ends of a beloved sheet carelessly left on the clothesline.

As always, FUCK WORK.

Lunch with V-Ron today...yay!