Ugh, so we're already deep into 2008, and still I have no access to my poor laptop. It's just a black box biding time in my apartment. The results of my little awards show, as well as all the other fun bloggy things I want to do, are trapped in said laptop. I hear voices emanating from it occasionally. "Wawwy Way," it groans, as if I gave it the same nasty cold CT jammed up my snotty nostrils. "Wibiweff Wiffle," it says.
Enigmatic, ain't it?
But there are things to be grateful for. I bought some fantastic, expensive, locally-produced, organic gouda from Whole Foods last night, along with some delish crostini. Best thing I've done in '08.
Watched The Nanny Diaries. I think I've finally been proven correct that Scarlett Johansson is not a good actress. She wouldn't know nuance if it hit her in the face.
Which nuance would never do. Because it's, well, nuance. It would be more subtle about any violence.
Finished Daywatch, the moderately inferior sequel to Nightwatch. It's a recap-alooza that starts to get a bit too big for its Soviet shortpants (ok, that was just wrong, but it's staying - we need a reminder that Kati is infallible). Will read the third book though, if only because I'm now committed and also really, really like the name Anton Gorodetsky. May name my son that. Or my first living possession.
Watched some of the Lost mobisodes. Am perplexed. These "Missing Pieces" are what? To overtell the backstories and to pull back the veil on every last detail of these people's lives? Kinda ruins the mystery. Not the Mystery, of course. I still don't have the faintest idea what's going on. I mean the "mystery," the gauze that holds Lost together and waves you towards it seductively but you don't want to count the threads. Because then it's not cool and shimmery. No get it.
Received requested but unexpected truffles from MG (I have two friends with those initials - this one is female). She's a godsend. I salute you, mon amie.