Caught a sneak last night thanks to my friends rescuing me from the dank boredom of an apartment where the major source of lighting is bulbless. It was a good rescue.

The Mexican is not the sappy romantic comedy the trailers lead you to expect. Funny? Oh, yes. Sappy? Nah. Romantic? Sort of. It's the story of Jerry and Sam, two folks who love each other, but "can't seem to get it together." In fact, they spend most of the movie on separate, though connected, adventures. Jerry has to find, keep (that's the hard part), and deliver a legendary gun to his boss. Sam is being held for insurance by a hit-man-cum-relationship counselor, played brilliantly by James Gandolfini.

The script is tight and witty, with surprising and delightful dialog sprinkled with great one-liners. My favorite came from Gandolfini: "I'm just here to regulate funkiness." The satisfying plot is made for folks with a few brain cells to rub together. The direction is clever--it isn't often where just the act of switching to "storytelling" mode brings laughter from an audience. Gore Verbinski brought out flawless timing in his actors. The laughs, and there are plenty, come at all the right moments.

Bottom line? Last year Kel and I saw Gladiator early in the season, and we knew it was an Oscar contender. The Mexican is our first Oscar contender for this year. Kel and I agree that James Gandolfini will be nominated for Best Supporting Actor, and I predict a screenplay nom for J.H. Wyman.

I can't think of anyone to whom I wouldn't recommend this movie. Universally appealing, I expect moderate box-office, critical acclaim, and...oh, just go see it.

The Mexican.

Yep, we felt the earthquake. Everyone in the office stood in their doorways tittering nervously for a full 30 seconds of rolling motion. Working in a fairly new building, I wasn't worried. What worried me was when I found out the epicenter was far, far away. This was a big one, as reported at MeFi.

So is this my 15 minutes?


Paul and I are mentioned for Big Fat Blog in the "Blog Sampler" in an San Francisco Chronicle article--pretty woohoo exciting yeah!

Nocturnal Annoyance


Don't you hate those dreams that aren't pleasant, but aren't harrowing enough to be called "nightmare"? Those dreams where you wake up irritated. Well, I was plenty annoyed with Jerwin and Jeffrey this morning. Jerwin was doing this live streaming walkthrough of the new place, but you had to do something funky with your config to view it. So Jeffrey is helping me set up my laptop according to Jerwin's instructions, and boy did it ever get screwed up. I still couldn't use my laptop by the end of the dream.



Hee. I love you guys, even if you did mess up my imaginary laptop.

I'm being sued for something I paid off in 1996. The lawyer asked me if I had the check number. I said: "1996? Oh, I don't think so." He was kind of a moron--which is really strange. I don't think I've ever met a lawyer that sounds like customer service rep for the phone company. Of course, I called the original company and they have all the information for my payoff. What's irritating is I was served on Saturday, and there was no relevant information on the summons, so I had to stew all weekend wondering what the hell was going on. That's pretty nerve-wracking. At least the guy who served me was friendly.

Have you ever known a vampire? No, I'm not talking about the blood-sucking kind. This is the person who seems hollowed-out, unchanging over the years, decaying before your eyes. They have only one dimension. Deep conversation or contradictions must be carefully avoided, because a strange kind of logic rules the vampire mind--it is incomprehensible to living human beings. If crossed they will turn this logic on you, unable to see how wrong or hurtful they are. All the vampire has left is ego, and this must be protected at all costs.



Vampires suck the light out of the room when they enter. The pain you feel in their presence is your soul being siphoned away. They don't mean to do it, but lacking a soul themselves, they must. They are not aware of their status, or that they are hurting everyone they contact.



What makes vampires? Lack of love. Avoidance of pain. Avoidance of any emotion.



So, have you met a vampire? Most people have. I'll go you one better. I've watched a vampire be born. Someone I've loved for years and years--I watched him slowly hollow out until there was nothing left but an animated corpse. It makes me want to cry. I tried to keep loving him, but it just became too difficult. Being with him was an ordeal that made me tired and jumpy. I finally had to say goodbye. Not forever I hope. I wish very much that he'll be able to get help, fall in love, anything that will gain his humanity back for him. I'm sure it will take a few years. I'll miss him until then.



Of course what truly scares me, because I am essentially selfish, is how close I am myself to becoming a vampire. I hope my friends will warn me if I cross over.

Kel and I ordered pizza and Pepsi and sat down in my tiny apt to watch this rental last night. I've never met a John Waters I didn't like.

Cecil is the story of guerilla film-makers operating in Baltimore (of course), who kidnap a major star and force her to act in their film. The film-within-a-film is called Raging Beauty, a radical Death To Mainstream Cinema screed, told with violence and broad declarations. To film it, the crew and stars stage actual terrorist acts against the Hollywood machine and film them. For some reason everybody has a gun.

The outcome of this convoluted plotline is a scream. Melanie Griffith is not my favorite person, but she was pretty darned good in this. She needs to go underground more often, as that's where her best work (as in Something Wild) is done. The director and film crew (including a bearded woman as a producer) are suitably commited to extreme acts. Each of them has the name of a director tattooed on a body-part, and the entire crew is under enforced "celibacy for cinema" until the production is wrapped. They're willing to die for their art--and many of them do. The film contains some hilarious bits, including the repeated rescue of the crew by sympathetic movie-goers, and the multi-drug addiction of Lyle, played by Adrian Grenier.

If you're a Waters fan at all, definitely pick up this film. If you are at all a film snob, pick up this film. If you like the unusual, pick up this film. If you don't fit any of those categories, watch it anyway, but consider yourself forewarned.

Okay, I sat there hitting reload again and again...so I figured I'd better share:

Quick note on yesterday's music purchases: The Jonatha Brooke rocks. Excellent disk--highly recommended. I've had it on repeat since about 3pm yesterday, and probably won't change it out until Monday.

I admit I only rented this because I was hankering for more David Bridie music, and he did the soundtrack with John Phillips. There should be an entire genre named "troubled family meets for the holidays". In this case, Thanksgiving. Nothing new. Solid if unremarkable performances. I got a few laughs, but was unable to emotionally engage in this bit of movie formula.

Fer sure there are quirks to smooth out, but I nonetheless have an announcement. I think it's a fun one. You've all heard me talk about my friend Kelly, AKA Threll, AKA The Movie Buddy. Well, we decided it was about time we got together and did a site for the thing we love most. Movies, of course. Therefore, without any further ado, allow me to present:

Threllkel & Miss Kitty Go to the Movies!

Lunch shoppie:






Do I love Jonatha Brooke? Yep. Did I really buy this because there's a duet with Neil Finn? Yep.








Because I can't stand pop radio (Eminem and Britney, anyone?), I find I depend upon friends, web samples, and in-store listening to get new music. I know I'm a little behind on this, but I listened to it in the store, and from that snippet it sounds wonderful. I love pop cello.

There are certain actors whom I follow simply because they are a joy to watch. They ply their craft with such subtlety and skill that it's like watching a symphony unfold on a pliant face. It's a short list. Gillian Anderson just made it. House of Mirth was a remarkable vehicle for a highly skilled and greviously underrated actor. For two hours and fifteen minutes I watched as her character became deeper and deeper, and found myself a great deal more emotionally involved than I usually get. The supporting roles are also excellent. I think I may have to kill Laura Linney, just because she was so deliciously evil. I find I'm wishing fervently for the end of the X-Files. No more television for Gillian. Gillian needs to make movies. Lots and lots of wonderful movies.

Got a new scanner at work. It's one of these. Sure, the software is a little icky as usual, but I'm liking it. The OCR recognition is far and away the best I've ever seen. I can pop in a backup report--which is basically gobbledy-gook--and it comes out without an error. Smashing, I tell ya. Unfortunately, this paves the way for putting a lot more stuff on our website. Ack.

Bought a DVD player tonight. Before I even bought it, I got m'self all set up with a long queue at Netflix and was unduly excited about finally getting to watch movies at home again. I haven't been able to watch a lot since I moved--there isn't a vid store close, and Kozmo doesn't have the selection I crave. S'anyway, I got the player home, hooked it up, and...no picture. Sound was fine coming through the stereo, but zip on the vid. So I called up my trusty friends Kelly and John. John said I had to find the input for the television. After some initial confusion, I got out the manual for my tv (yep, I keep all my manuals), and discovered this was the AUX. Okay, fine, I'm there. Get to the AUX channel and there's the input. Static. Nothing but static.



The DVD player is back in its little box. I cancelled my Netflix account. It will all have to wait until I can get a tv that's somewhat less than 10 years old. Read: a goddamn long time. I knew I was badly missing renting movies. I'm a movie junkie. I didn't realize how bad it was until I got close to getting a fix, only to have it snatched away. I'm gonna go lay down and cry now.



Tomorrow, I think I really have to find something happy to write about.

Yes, I survived. Yes, I'm feeling better. I can eat a little, and I can finally SLEEP. God, that is so great. I stayed in bed until 1pm today--and I needed every nightmare-about-being-trapped-in-my-apartment second of it. The worst part has been the boredom. Stuck alone in my apt for a freakin' week, unable to sleep, to weak to do anything. AUGH! In fact, I was so bored that I'm going out right now. It's only to see a movie...but man, it's gonna be nice to get outta this place for a few hours. I'm off to see Chopper, and Aussie film I've been looking forward to. It's part of the Portland International Film Festival, an event that always catches me off guard. Very irritating. Must get on their mailing list.

Brad Pitt to play Jeff Buckley? It's only a rumor, but it would be cool. The article is oddly phrased however. Let me state for the record that Tim and Jeff were not brothers. Tim was Jeff's father.

Woohoo! It's an illness update! You can just skip this. I don't like to talk about being sick here, because frankly, I get sick a lot. Long story. But this illness, oh, this has been special. It's been a long, long time since I wanted to die quite this badly. I want to chronicle this--to remember--so that the next time it happens, I can just fucking shoot myself before I'm too weak to lift the gun.



So, for posterity, on Sunday, 10 February 2001, I contracted strep throat. I haven't eaten solid food since then, and I've had the singular pleasure of dropping nine pounds so far. First one to compliment me on my weight loss is going to get decked. As my readers can no-doubt tell from the tone of my note, I'm extremely cranky. That's because I haven't been able to sleep for more than a few minutes at a time since Monday. For those keeping track--yes!--this IS Thursday! I'm also cranky because I'm feeling very, very isolated. Work is my primary source of human contact. I can't hardly go out with my friends or invite them over. So I'm screwed. Which is why my Three Unfortunate Readers are getting this screed.



I will now return to my regularly scheduled sob in the corner.

How sick is too sick to blog? Pretty darned sick, my friends. But I'm pleased to report that the fever has subsided, and while I still can't talk (this could be a good thing), I can almost swallow. Yeehaw.



But I didn't come here to talk about being sick. I came here to talk about the Oscar Nominees. Specifically, Chocolat. What the hell were they thinking?? My thought when I left the theatre after seeing that piece of fluff was "eh, whatever." Sure, a nice movie, but NOT an Oscar contender. For this, Requiem for a Dream and Dancer in the Dark were all but shut out? Unbefreakinglievable. Sigh. I'll get over it. There's always some stupid sting with they announce the noms. I love movies, so I get a little involved. I have a couple nominees to see yet, and when I do, I'll post not only my picks, but if I can con him into it, I'll post my friend Kelly's. The primary difference you'll see between the two lists is that his will be right, and mine will be wrong.

Rejoice, all ye fans of great and gorgeous men! After a long hiatus, I've revamped the Crush section, and even added five more lovelies for your perusal. Enjoy.

BTW, I just checked my stats, and folks are hitting frykitty.com again. YAY!

Some people are just too wonderful. One of the Paul fans--in fact someone who's helped me out with the site--sent me one I didn't have. The movie was an IMAX from '99, and isn't available in NTSC format. She got hold of the PAL and had it converted. Sometimes, I love people.

More on notebooks:



I've also been finding a lot of budgets, goal lists, and to-do lists. It's kind of depressing how I burn the same cycles over and over again. On the other hand--ooh! I found a sketch book! Here's an old boyfriend. That's Kyle in 1991. We're still friends, though we've drifted apart in recent years. Here's a self-portrait, also from '91. The chin is off, but the rest is good. Imagine what a skilled artist I would have become with ten more years of practice--HA! I stopped drawing a couple of years after that. Why? Crippled by the keyboard, I'm afraid. I had to decide between the web and the pencil, and I chose the web. No regrets.

I was looking specifically for some notes I took on a book I was re-reading, and got completely side-tracked cleaning out old notebooks and notepads.



I have tons of notepads. There's always one handy when I need it. After a few years, these pads become like an archeological dig. I spent 30 minutes or so peeling back the strata of my life. Some things I found:

• Old lyrics. Bad old lyrics. I broke with my usual habit and threw the bastards out.
  
• Notes from playing Myst and Riven.
  
• An entire notebook devoted to The Stone. Puzzle printouts, leads, extensive speculation. Boy-howdy did I ever throw that away fast.
  
• A journal from a vacation to Maryland I took in '93. It was a nightmare (hmm, maybe I just shouldn't travel), but one shining light was my friend Jamie. I wished in the journal that I could keep his friendship for just a few more years. I did, despite a bump or two. I had to write him about that one.
  
• I went on a speed-reading kick once and digested a bunch of self-help books. This was several years ago, but the notes were great--a distilled record of my major personal challenges. Kept those.
  

Crud. Show's sold out. That's what I get for not keeping up--I only found out about it today. Ah well. Note to self: isolation from entertainment news is bad.



At least I got the repoint stuff cleared up. I'm hoping it will propagate over the next 24 hours.

Well, there was a problem with the domain repoint. Should be cleared up early next week. Of course it's all my fault for not transferring it a lot earlier anyway. Bad Andy. Crappy pizza.



Going to see Powderfinger tomorrow, though I've never heard 'em. Just a little aussie adventure. I keep trying to get samples, but either they're not available, or I can't connect. Rrrr. They're huge in Australia, yet over here they're opening for Coldplay. Whom I also haven't heard. 'Sokay. Cheap tix.

Why do they say it takes 24 hours to propagate a domain name? More like three days or so. Rrr.

I've awakened full of vinegar crankiness two days in a row. Yeeg. I'm hiding in my office so I'm not too mean to people. Unfortunately the HelpDesk portion of my job has been very busy this week. Woohoo! How can I make you feel inferior for needing my help today?

I'm almost back. I can hit frykitty.com from home...in about 24 hours I'll have returned to the masses.

Andre is back!!


I missed you sooo much! The design is loverly. BTW, next time I'm in SoCal, I won't be with those bad people that kept me from having time for you. I promise. Of course, I'll probably be with other bad people...

My friend Kelly just scored 62% on Jerwin's test. Jerwie, I swear he's not a stalker.

After more than six months, I decided to peek at the old 24-Hour Blog. I have to say it's some of my best work. Interactive, funny, and ending on a poignant note. It makes me wonder what the hell happened to water down my writing in the last six months. Consider this a general apology to my audience. Don't know if I can do anything about it. I suppose these things go through phases. It was certainly interesting to look back, and I'll do it again in another six months.

Tell them you're celibate. Say you're trying to get closer to God without actually joining a convent, or something. If you're in to the solo-thing for the long haul, it does get easier as time passes. Of course, you're coming from a totally different culture than I am. Also, you're probably not as mean as I am. I pity the fool that asks me why I don't have a boyfriend. Good luck.



Oh, and V-day? Get yourself some flowers. No one is gonna love you like you. Yeah.

When my feet aren't being scabrous bastards, there are few things I love more than a long walk where there's no traffic.



I've been managing to walk home twice a day along the waterfront--once at lunch and once at night. Because I don't have to worry about crossing the street (a hazardous proposition for one with my air-to-brain ratio), I can space off entirely. I listen to snippets of conversation from runners passing by (so, are you into AC/DC?), ignore assholes on the benches (hey! got any mumble-mumble?), say hello to the seagulls.



Often, I'm not listening at all. I'm just off in my own little world.



Luckily, as well as being traffic-free, the waterfront also features sturdy guardrails.

Alien Abductions, Inc.


Why wait to be chosen? AAI Retreat will create your alien abduction experience down to the tiniest detail. Don't wait! Call today!

I'm actually very sleepy, but I'm just so thrilled with the fact that I got this working. Next challenge: the mail server. I've plopped a couple of bad addresses out in various places and I'm feeling guilty. Gotta get those suckers working again. Also, I don't wanna go to sleep before the end of Terra Nullius.



Okay, it's over. G'night.

Woohoo! I'm back in business, more or less. The domain won't transfer until some time early next week, but I'm up, running, and I finally figured out how to do the path thing with Blogger. Of course while I was down, I had plenty to say. And of course I don't have much to say now that it's back. Sigh.

This is incredibly sad. No, not some heart-wrenching story about a homeless widow and her twelve children; rather, the state of Pyra. My thoughts are with you, my best wishes, and any help I can lend.

tveyes.com


You put in a keyword and your email. When your keyword is spoken on a television show, they email you, and link you to a transcript. I'm just trying it, so we'll see how they do.