VeGOOSE: For real

I will return to being a good little blogger soon. Maybe even this weekend since I will be on a semi-vacation, though right now my primary source of stress is that semi-vacation. So we'll see.

For today, we will talk about VeGoose, and also a big THANK YOU to the sweetest boy in the world who took me to VeGoose and made sure I saw Tom Petty so I could chill out for the next month, because that's the impact Tom Petty has on me when he plays live. Later, we'll talk abut my Friday revelation, my semi-vacation, Whale Rider and Vancouver. Today, however, so that I'll remember them later, things about VeGoose.

Jack White is a fucking ROCK STAR, for real. Last week when I was in Vancouver, Elaine was all like, "You NEED to listen to the entire Raconteurs cd. It's great. And I saw them live and they were one of the best shows I'd ever seen." And I was like "Yeah, yeah." Except she was right. Jack White is a fucking ROCK STAR. I had no idea. I couldn't stop watching them on stage. And that album must actually be good because I liked every song they played, and I may even have liked the single the least. Go figure.

The Black Crowes Actually CAN Bore You Somewhat: Look, because I'm not saying that I didn't totally enjoy their set, because I did. Because I adore their music and I adore them and I have a total crush on their keyboard player. But watching them play a set ... there's nothing unexpected about it. It sounds exactly like you would expect it to sound: It sounds like their radio tracks blown out a bit with some extra long guitar solos that generally sound exactly like what you would expect their extra long guitar solos to sound like. Joel stands there. Chris does his five patented moves (hip wiggle, chicken dance, shimmy, hippie head roll, nose scratch). They are very, very, very stoned. At one point, I'm pretty sure what happened was Chris said to Joel, "Man, I'm so stoned. I'm so feeling you. Can you just keep playing for another 20 minutes while I stand here and do my five patented moves?" Yet there I was. Totally into it.

Fiona Apple is INSANE: Hey, Matt McD, remember when we went to see Fiona Apple and she was a little weird but not, like, clinically fucking insane? Well, that's not what she's like anymore. Now, she's literally INSANE. Let me give you some examples. Periodically, by which I mean CONSTANTLY, in between songs se puts the microphone back in the stand and stands on stage TALKING TO HERSELF without the mike. Also periodically, she'll just wander off behind the drum kit and pace back and forth talking to herself. There was also my favorite moment during an instrumental solo where she literally just sat her ass down on stage and, while of course TALKING TO HERSELF, rocked back and forth and then put her head between her knees and kept it there. CRAZY SHIT. I was willing to overlook the weird outfit and the freakshow dancing, but the talking to herself was just fucked up. She looked beautiful though. And if I hadn't actually been watching her, the show would have been amazing because she sounded UNREAL and all her new stuff is fantastic and dark just like her old stuff. After the show, we wondered what it was like to be in a relationship with her. Then we decided that must be why she's got all of these great, dark songs. Because, for her, probably every relationship ends like this: "Fiona, girl, you're INSANE." And then she beats the shit out of whomever it is. You know somebody's show is freaky when, in between two songs, you say out loud, "Dude, seriously, she's kind of creeping me out." And 10 people you don't know all turn around and say, "Yeah she is!"

I Wish I Were Married to Ben Folds: But then again, who doesn't? He played an awesomely fun set, including most of my favorites (Landed, Rock this Bitch, Rocking the Suberbs, Bitches Ain't Shit and Song for the Dumped), though unless I missed it he didn't play Still, which is my favorite, favorite. The thing about a Ben Folds set is that he totally gets everybody involved in doing cool stuff like singing along to Bitches Ain't Shit or Rocking the Suberbs and you have a great time. And he can jam, dude, like no white boy you know can jam on a piano. And that set was so super fun and I loved it and I love him and I sang the whole time and loved every single minute of it, even when he was bitching about not so much liking our little festival. And he would have been my favorite of the weekend, except that ...

Tom Patty OWNS My Soul Right Now: I was telling Gary about the weekend on the phone Sunday night, and he said, "You know, your brother once pointed out to me that Tom Petty's never, ever written a bad song, and it's pretty much true." And it is. Toni Kay (who was also at the festival though in our respective clusters we never found each other) and I were talking about the same thing this morning. I was looking forward to Tom Petty ALL DAY on Saturday. So much so that even though we were in VIP and there really wasn't a totally bad spot there, I stood in the same spot for an hour between the Black Crows and Tom Petty to make sure I was front and center for him. I was worried. I saw him at the Fillmore years back and it was like a religious experience and then I was calm and peaceful for months, but what if he disappointed

He did not disaapoint! From the first song we were all wrapped in. His music is wonderful. His band is wonderful. His stage show is magical. He did a version of Don't Come Around Here No More that I may never forget. I have felt calm and happy and peaceful ever since this show. I will tell you this. You have NEVER heard Free Fallin' until you've heard it sung at night, outdoors, in a desert whith a ferris wheel lit up next to you. You just haven't. He OWNS my soul. OWNS it.

It was a good weekend. I have a thank you gift for the sweetest boy in the world. I hope he likes it!

 

Five Things I Love: Twelve Men I Lust For

You all, I worked on this on and off all weekend. Seriously.

Firstly, five things that I currently love becasue I want to spread the word to the world so you can all enjoy to.

This Amos Lee CD: Firstly, I know that you're saying "Every time you go to YVR, you get in some folksy southern mode. Like, last time it was all Paul Brady. What's up with that?" I don't know. But I do know that I LOVE LOVE this cd. I even love the political song (Freedom), and I love the lyrics to "Line of Pain" and I mostly love "Shout Out." And probably you should listen to this cd, too, unless you really hate southern folk. In which case I'm not sure why you read my blog and talk to me.

Vancouver: And I say this every time I'm here, but why am I not living here? We'll talk more about it later, but if you've never taken a trip to Vancouver, you should.

Pantidote by Origins: It's the most amazing face product ever made by anybody. It's completely changed my skin. The other night, I got drunk and fell asleep with my makeup on, and my skin was all horrid the next day, and I put on the plantidote and it was fine in a few hours. It's like youth in a small, round tub. Love it.

This Amazing Story That I Can't Repeat to You: But it's about a person I know who went on Blind Date as a dare (but not really a dare, more like a challenge). And every time I'm feeling stressed during the day I think about it and it makes me laugh. Like out loud laugh.

This Little Piece of Crack: No, seriously. It's chocolate, peanut butter and pretzels in one nice little package. I expect one to be packed in to every single Christmas card I receive this year. I mean, clearly a woman created this. And she should be the next President of the U.S. Of the WORLD, really.

Now, twelve men whom I lust for. I've been meaning to share this revelation with you for a while, but, you know, football season. A while back, before football started and I went dark, G-Man of Playsure and I were having this extended conversation about how I should adopt the whole Hollywood marriage paradigm and marry one person a month for a year. That, of course, led to our spending days, literally, hammering out a list of who would be my top twelve celebrity husbands. Because this is the stuff we enjoy. It took a while, because I would eliminate anybody who was already married from consideration, which I probably didn't need to do since it was a Hollywood marriage paradigm. But this is the list we ended up with. Ladies, enjoy this break in your work day.

#1: Mark-Paul Gosselaar: Yes, ladies, you loved him in Saved by the Bell, but he really won your hearts in NYPD Blue. G-Man of Playsure actually obtained an autographed picture, which hangs by my desk at work. And when I'm feeling blue during the work day, I talk to Mark-Paul about our future on a beach in Hawaii somewhere with a pair of prop handcuffs from NYPD Blue and a really kinky moment when I call him Zach.


#2 Jensen Ackles: People, his acting resume includes Dark Angel, Smallville and Supernatural and he looks like candy. For a nerdy girl like me who loves her science fiction and her hot men, he's perfect. And by perfect I mean like a little package sent down by God to make the world a better place.


#3 Andrew Dan Jumbo: Of TLC's While You Were Out fame. He can seduce me by making fine, custom teak furniture and woo me with a hammer in his hands. I think he is most likely the only man on this list whom I would never be able to say "No" to in any capacity. And the accent. And the funny saying t-shirts. And the guns. Oh my GOD. Catwoman says "Oh my GOD" too!


#4: John Bruce: Yes, you say, "Jocelyn, two of your top four men you would want to marry for a month are from a home improvement show on TLC, and one of them is presumably gay." I say, "I don't have to answer to you. Good design makes me hot."



#5: Scott Hannan: Because last I checked we all knew that I have a hockey fetish. shamus does not find Scott Hannan hot at all. Neither does Halff. But I don't need to answer to either of them. For real, you all. A person doesn't need to have teeth every moment of the day to be hot. In fact, having lost some of your real teeth while being a warrior on the ice may just be hot all on its own.


#6: Hines Ward. How did Hines Ward fall to number six on my list, you may ask. Because the Steelers are losing and losing is not as hot as winning. But still, I mean, he's so yummy. It we were going to make near-perfect men, they should be modeled after Hines Ward. He even has a sexy name. And he's so happy! All the time! He's always smiling, and that's the hottest thing about him!


#7 Leland Chapman: It's a combination of the fact that he's Hawaiian, ripped, heavily inked and charmingly not that bright. And any man in a lai and all black combat gear can arrest me at any time. That last one was not very original, but I was so distracted thinking about Leland Chapman that I couldn't focus on writing anything clever.


#8: George Clooney: Every woman in the world is offended right now that he's way down at number eight, but I saw Syriana and the fat-Clooney is still boldly imprinted on my mind. But, I mean, he's Clooney. There is no man who more personifies what women find hot, and I feel like a hack for even having him on this list.


#9 Kieffer Sutherland: By which I obviously actually mean Jack Bauer. It makes me want to become an international terrorist spy just to get taken down by him.


#10: Naveen Andrews: He technically probably shouldn't be on the list since I think he's actually with Barbara Hershey, but we're going with it anyway. Why are we going with it? Yes, partially it's because there are moments on Lost where he looks so hot that I literally make this little burble type noise out loud and offend all of the other men in the room. But mostly it's because of the film Kama Sutra. Yes, dudes, that's the one where somebody dies by getting stepped on by an elephant. That's not my point in reference to Naveen Andrews though.


#11: Johnny Reznik: He may be married too, but I've lost track. The dimple. The messy hair. The "deep, probing" lyrics. The guns. The whole "sad little rocker boy with so many sad little problems" thing. Really, mostly the "sad little rocker boy with so many sad little problems" thing.


#12: Taye Diggs. I will simply quote G-Man of Playsure here. "What woman's list is he NOT on?" And because of that we overlook his happy and stable marriage to a wonderful woman.


"So this entry is what you did with your weekend, Jocelyn?"

"Yep."

 

My Soul is a Little Smaller Now

Firstly, before you read this post and say, "Hey, lame ass, what you were doing in watching TV and cleaning your pad on a FRIDAY NIGHT? I thought you were a PARTY GIRL," let me just say that on weeks when I don't get to spend any time at my place except to occassionally sleep and shower, I often enjoy the peace and solitude of staying in by myself on a Friday, cleaning so I don't have to stress over it on the weekend, doing some art projects and watching some bad tv in the background.

Also, I watch "Deal or No Deal" when it's on. I can't help it. So on Friday night when I stayed in to clean and do some art and watch bad tv, I watched "Deal or No Deal." And after "Deal or No Deal," I left NBC on for the new "quiz show rage" called "One Against One Hundred."

In case you missed it, here's how this show works. A contestant is pitted against a "mob" of 100 people The 100 people presumably represent people of average intelligence. For example, teachers, Ken Jennings the Jeopardy champion, some "Deal or No Deal" models and some crack heads they paid twenty dollars to pull in off the street. Questions are asked. If the contestant answers the question correctly, he or she eliminates everybody from the "mob" who answered the same question incorrectly and there is a cash prize for each person eliminated. If the contestant answers the question incorrectly, all the money the contestant accrued is split among the remaining members of the "mob."

It's the single most boring thing I've ever watched. The questions are lame. The contestants aren't that interesting, and it's hosted by Bob Saget who would CLEARLY rather be doing stand up and telling dirty jokes somewhere. Or doing a cameo on Entourage, which is a hundred percent cooler than being the poor man's Howie Mandel.

Anyway, some girl from Ohio is the contestant. She's eliminated over 40 people from the mob! That's right. Only sixty people are left in the mob, so you have to presume that the remaining people at the VERY LEAST represent average intelligence, if not slightly above average intelligence. And here's the moron-level question Bob Saget is forced to ask this group of people, which includes Ken Jennings, smartest trivia player ever.

"In Deal or No Deal, there are twenty-six cases numbered one through twenty six. In the numbers of those cases, one through twenty-six, how many are divisible by three?"

Yes. That is the question. Put more simply, can you either say "Oh, well, eight time three is twenty-four and nine times three is twenty-seven, so there must be eight!" or you can simply COUNT BY THREE up to twenty-four and keep track of how many numbers you counted? Can you do basic math, sixty people who represent the average intelligence level of Americans?

NO! APPARENTLY YOU CANNOT!!! Because of the sixty remaining people, SEVENTEEN FREAKING PEOPLE CANNOT COUNT BY THREES BETWEEN ONE AND TWENTY-SIX!!!! Seventeen people get this question wrong. Teachers! Office workers! Quite possibly your own bank teller! WTF????????????

Go America. Educate the youth.

 

Demeaning, Devaluing and Demoralizing

I choose not to tell you what that is the entry title.

So, this past weekend, Catwoman and I had the first of what we hope will be every-other-year girl weekends. We picked a place out of our asses, literally. "Hey, let's go to Hot Springs Arkansas! Yeah?" "Okay, that sounds great!" And so we did. And I have stories:

Day One: CHELSEA!!!!!
So, we meet up at the Little Rock Airport, which is roughly the size of a three car garage, but it does have working wireless, which is more than I can say for the Salt Lake City airport. The afternoon is a mellow exploration of the Little Rock River Walk before we head out to more "rural" areas. We explore the market, we have some lunch and sample the local beer. And then we head to Bath Junkies to make some bath product. For the record, I made three lotion scents: One smells like Sangria with wine and red fruits, one smells like Hawaii with teak and coconut and plumeria and one smells like -- wait for it -- Pennsylvania with clover and heather. Catwoman's flight crew is also in Bath Junkies being obnoxious to poor Paul the Gay Bath Boy and we hated them. Then, no shit, Chelsea Clinton walks by outside. I run out and yell "CHELSEA" at the top of my lungs and then, when she turns around, I run back into the store like a twelve year old. No joking. Said Super Chuck later, "I mean, by those standards Tom Cruise should be at LAX shaking hands with people when they get off the plane in LA." And he's right. It was a good omen.

After Little Rock, we stopped at Pugh's Old Mill. It's believed to be the last remaining structure from Gone With the Wind, and it was serene as hell! Here are some pictures. Get serene with me and enjoy them.



Finally we hit the road and head to Hot Springs. We're staying for the weekend at the historic Arlington, which is both historic and beautiful in an old way. It has an actual veranda, where we spent many lovely evenings drinking wine. It has a lobby where a 1950's style band plays each night and people gather to listen and drink and dance. It's very, very Dirty Dancing. It's lovely. And it's a mellow night. We have dinner at Rolando's and just lay around and talk. We do a lot of laying around and talking because, you know, it's girls' weekend. And that's what girls do.

Welcome to Hot Springs, Childhood Home of Bill Clinton!

Day Two: Big U, A Duck Ride, A Wax Museum and MySpace
On day two, we begin the day with a hike, because Hot Springs, Arkansas is indeed beautiful and natural. There are some lovely pictures of this beauty and nature at the end of this entry. Then we shop, because we are girls. And while shopping, I meet Big U.

I'm calling him Big U because I couldn't pronounce his real name, which was Russian. It was Russian because Big U grew up in the Ukraine. I meet him on a park bench outside of the rock store while Catwoman is buying ... rocks. Big U's story is that he grew up in the Ukraine and was a gymnast. Then, he went to the war (which I believe given the timing would be WWI). When we returned from the war, the Ukraine was rebuilding its sports teams and made him become a soccer player. He was already over thirty when that happened! Can you imagine being told you need to become and Olympic caliber athlete in a sport that wasn't your natural sport when you were already over thirty? Then, in a part of the story I miss, there is possibly another war and definitely a move to the U.S. To Arkansas, which I cannot figure out, but I go with it. I refuse to believe that Big U is 84, so I force him to show me his driver's liscense, and he is in fact 84. I ask him how he stays looking so young, and this is how he explains it to me:

"I drink only four things. I drink milk. I drink water. I drink red wine, but only Italian or Spanish, and I drink fine cognac. If you just stop what you're doing and drink only those four things, you will always look young too. But you already look young. You have the good genetics, yes?"

Because he still speaks with an accent. I love him.

More shopping, coffee, and then the wax museum. Yes, the wax museum. And Catwoman and I agree that the wax museum is our favorite thing from the whole trip. Here are some pictures. Some things you will note:
- The wax museum included "The Last Supper" and a big old wax Jesus on a cross. Apparently Jesus on a Cross had a broken wax finger, and on our way out some woman complained to the front desk that her child was scarred by Jesus on the Cross missing a wax finger. They take their Jesus seriously in the South.

- The sixth picture here is the most half-assed Alice in Wonderland wax museum exhibit you'll ever see.

- On the last picture, please note that this wax museum was so on the ball that the wax receptionist was actually missing her sad little wax arm.

At the Hot Springs Wax Museum


We wrap up the day with a ride on a "Duck," which is a WWII vehicle that transitions from land to water instantly! We also see the rest of Hot Springs which is, well, not as lovely as main historical Hot Springs. Then we have a lovely Italian meal.

And what do we do in the hotel lobby while the 1950's band plays away behind us for the rest of the evening? We surf freakin' MySpace for people we know. Yep. Welcome to vacation: 2006. Where you go somewhere beautiful and spend your evening surfing MySpace. You love it.

Day Three: A Bath and a Homewrecker
On day three we do what you do when you go to the hot springs: we have a bath at the bath house. I have no pictures, but I will tell you that it was non dis-similar to Hawaii in that I got the most awesome bath house attendant ever and CatWoman got the bath house nazi.

I got Rachel. Rachel was a sweetheart. She gave a great loofah. She talked to me all through my mineral bath and steam wrap about my man problems. She gave me budhist advice (no shit). She constantly asked me if I felt okay and what she could do to make this a better experience for me.

Catwoman did NOT get Rachel. She got the Bath House Nazi. Bath House Nazi's preferred form of communication when something like this:
"Get in the tub."
"Lean forward."
"Leg."
"Arm".

Yep. Not as nice is it? I felt badly, you know, because Rachel made the whole experience so pleasant, and Bath Nazi did not. I will tell you that the bath house at the Arlington in Hot Springs is so throwback that it's wonderful. You really feel like you're in a bathhouse from the 1050s. You walk in and there are all these women lined up in their steam towels and face masks. It's like "Hello, time really does stand still in Arkansas." No joke.

After our bath house relaxation, we headed out for some wine tasting and then back to the veranda to enjoy an afternoon of conversation and ... more wine. This is when Julie appeared. Oh Julie!

I had met Julie in the steam room during the bath house experience. She was giving me advice on my man-issues. In fact, what she told me was that she was 46 and glad to be single, and that having babies shouldn't be an issue because most people she knew were happier if they had waited until their forties to have babies. So I went with that.

As Catwoman and I were sitting on the veranda enjoying our wine, Julie comes over and plants her ass. She begins with, "So now it's time for me to tell you about my man issues..."

And I get excited because I love people who share their stories. Julie begins with, "Well, first of all, I'm 46 and he's 60 ... "

And I think that the story is going to end there. Because to me, a 14 year age difference where one person is about to legally become a senior citizen is enough. But Julie keeps going...

"And he's married."

Now, Catwoman and I have to gut check here, because WE ARE NOT ABOUT THE HOME WRECKERS IN ANY WAY. But we're curious to hear Julie's story. And the next, no joke, ninety minutes are filled up with Julie saying things like the following:

"Everybody's like 'He's not going to leave her,' but I believe he will."

"He's been married to her for 38-years, but she's short and she is NOT attractive."

"When we're together, it's like we're the same person."

"I'm still friends with my ex-husband. I think he's still in love with me."

Oh, I almost couldn't tear myself away when it was time to go get ready for dinner. It was amazing. I gave Julie my phone number. She said she'd call me in a couple of weeks. I almost can't wait for it. I need to hear how this ends.

And then we went to dinner. And it was beautiful. And we fell asleep talking late that night. And in the morning when we had to drive to Little Rock to fly home it was very, very sad. And then we sat in the airport and made fun of the shoes that the people in Arkansas wear. Now, some more pictures. And then the two dumbest things we said (both of which were me) and a top 10 list!

Beautiful Hot Springs, Arkansas - America!


The Two Dumbest Things We Said on This Trip
"What borders Arkansas? Is it, like, Illinois and Kentucky?"
(For the record, and we'll never forget it again, it's Missouri, Oklahoma, Texas, Louisanna and Mississippi.)

"If the moon is full in Arkansas, is it full everywhere? Like, is it full on the West Coast, too?"
(For the record, whatever phase the moon is in, it's in that phase everywhere.)

And the Top 10 Things We Loved About Our Trip
#1 All of the Amazing Conversaion
#2 The Wax Museum: Seriously
#3 Robert: Our Breakfast Waiter. He had something missing.
#4 Julie: She was crazy, and a home wrecker
#5 The Veranda: So Peaceful
#6 Shopping at Bath Junkie & the poorly behaved customers in there
#7 The friendly habit the people of Hot Springs have at honking and wooting to great the new girls in town
#8 The bath house experience
#9 The sign of Bill Clinton when you come into town
#10 Are you a freak? I'm a freak. I'll get dirty with you.

Love ya, girl!

Batgirl & Catwoman!

 

Scary Accurate, Yeah?

No joke, I had 30 minutes to kill before a meeting today, so I was hitting every single MySpace page of people I know, and one of them had done this silly quiz over at some spyware driven quiz site. And so I copied, except that my "How will your name be defined in the dictionary" quiz was deadly, deadly accurate:

Jocelyn -- [noun]: A real life muppet 'How will you be defined in the dictionary?' at QuizGalaxy.com

 

Why I Hate Myself Right Now

I am completely enjoying every track on this John Mayer cd.

shamus may never speak to me again.

I don't care!!!!! The Heart of Life is a good fucking song bitch!

 

Oh, My Inner Conflict. My Life. So Hard.

G-Man of Playsure
Did I really ever say you had a thing for post-colonial narrative? I can probably expand that.

Me
Yes, you did really say that. Please feel free to expand.

G-Man of Playsure
Postcolonial narratives are by defition about dislocation, hybridity, inexplicable loss, nostalgia and the tension between what one is and what one becomes. Generically, it's about the various tensions between one's indigenous self and one's alien (colonial) culture.They're all variations on that basic theme. I think that maybe that internal conflict resonates with you because there's small-town berry pie Jocelyn, and then there's Jocelyn, smooth corporate operator. Which is not necessarily a conflict, and it isn't for some/most people, but you have love and hate for both worlds. Much like the colonial subject who is distant from his "own" culture and more comfortable with an alien one that he feels is innately not. Also an explaination for your affinity for New German Cinema, at least the films of Wenders, because new German cinema is all about German loss of identity in a country shaped economically and politically to be a satellite of the US.

Close?

Me
So, wow. You really did expand that. Maybe not so much on the source of the inner conflict though, right? I mean, but close. I mean, it's probably more like Oprah's, right? I feel this very strong sense of self identification with a responsibility to make the world a better place for people who aern't as fortunate as I am, but I own Coach bags and take elaborate trips. So it's kind of the same inner conflict, but not. I guess. It's football season, I can't work it out. But I think you're close.

 

Cinema Paradiso: I Must Have Grown Up Since the Last Time I Watched This

Last week, I'm seriously having a conversation with somebody about whether or not art has value if it only comments on society and community and doesn't work to build society, community and connections between people. Yep. That was our bar conversation, and I'm a little embarassed to admit it. Anyway, I mention to the person that Cinema Pardiso is a movie I remembered as having some good subtext, or not even really subtext but overt, primary text, on this topic.

Then I started thinking about how I haven't actually watched Cinema Paradiso since, I don't know, maybe 1994, and perhaps I should rewatch it based on my recommendation. So I did.

And it did have all that commentary about art that I was talking about, but also...I mean, I guess I'm just older now than I was the first time I watched it.

Because the movie, if you've ever seen it, is about nostalgia, and ghosts, and leaving things behind to build things but needing to realize that what you're building is because of what you left behind, and not leaving things behind, and did I mention nostalgia? And when I was twenty years old in 1994, I probably didn't get those things so much. But now that I'm 32 and have a lot of nostalgia and a lot of things to be nostalgic about, it's a different story.

I remember the first time I watched the last two minutes of the film - which are probably two of the more beautiful moments ever put together in film - and I thought "That was really lovely, but I feel like I should have felt more there." And I think at the time I blamed my lack of response to something I could logically say was beautiful on the film itself (by which I probably mean the Eurpoean pacing of the film -- I was far less patient at twenty). But really, now I realize that it's hard to feel something if you've never actually felt the emotion that's being conveyed before.

Which is not the case now. There are plenty of people whom I've learned from. And those people are getting older and older and older. And I certainly hope I have something as beautiful as Alfredo's film reel to remind me of the lessons they taught me when, years from now, going home to them isn't even an option anymore.

Watching that film is different now that I'm older. Better. I understand now why people always say it's such a brilliant film. I didn't understand that before. It's been a week or so since I watched it, and the last two minutes are still in my head. I guess I've just grown up a bit.