I'm still not crazy about this, but I suppose it will have to do for a while because I'm kidding myself if I think I have any time whatsoever to change it. (The graphics, I'm talking about the graphics. Sorry, it's been a long week.)
We saw "Return to Me" today, and biased though I may be, I thought it was delightful. It had the potential of being really, really schmaltzy, but it wasn't. It was tender and dramatic, without being overblown. And it only took about five minutes for me to forget that it was Mulder up there. All the actors were great, especially the restaurant cronies. A thoroughly enjoyable movie.
Plus, in the movie, David's wife was named Elizabeth, and after she dies, he falls in love with Grace. Coincidence? I don't think so.
We went out on Friday night, myself, Marissa, and Lynne. I really didn't want to go, I knew all day that I didn't want to go, and I agreed to go to dinner with the hopes that that would be enough.
I just had an exhausting week, judging trials every night until 11, dealing with competition issues during the day, trying to get my homework done and sleep and work on my paper and all that stuff, and I was so not in the mood to go stand around the only dance club in town.
I'm sorry, but sometimes I don't see the point of going out and standing around in a bar. Dancing is one thing, but I was way too tired for it, and all I really wanted to do was be in bed by like 9:00. But I agreed to go, and it was the dumbest decision I've made in quite a long time.
The three of us get a drink and sit at a table in the non-dance-club section of the bar. We're not there ten minutes when, as happens every time, some random drunk guy came up, sat at the fourth stool, and started talking to us. He introduced himself as John, asked for all of our names, and I think would have been trying to flirt had not his words been slurring.
Then one of his friends comes over, makes a derogatory comment or two about how Marissa looks in her tank top (It's not really a tank top -- I'm so out of the loop of fashion that I don't exactly know what they're called. It's basically a piece of fabric that ties around the neck and around the back). We asked them to leave the table, but they don't, so we do.
It just put a damper on the whole night. I was ready to go right then, but we went and stood in the dance club part for like an hour, and I hated every minute of it. It's hot, it's smoky, people keep bumping into me, it's too loud to talk to my friends, I'm tired and cranky and finally, finally we decide to leave.
Blech. It was miserable.
Then yesterday, I went over to see my parents, and because my father was watching the golf tournament and my mother was decorating, I was way bored, so I decided to go to Sam's. My mother asked me to pick up one of those 10-pound bags of chicken breasts.
The only other thing I could find that I actually wanted was a package of legal pads. So I'm standing there with my chicken and legal pads, when some employee comes up to me and starts telling me about how I can take my two items to this secret check-out place in the corner of the store.
I look at him. "Do you recognize me?"
He looks back, puzzled.
Me: "I was at the bar last night."
John: "Oh... God, you're Elizabeth, right?"
Me: "I'm very impressed that you remember!"
John: "Oh, God! Don't tell your friends I work here!"
I'm so sick of hearing about Elian Gonzales I could scream. This country needs some kind of scandal so the media has something else to talk about.
And oh, yeah, it snowed here overnight, but I bet you knew that already. All traces of it were gone by about noon. Still, it was weird to wake up to, especially since it was 73 yesterday.
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