This was from our daily sit outside.
I've got to join some things soon and get some social engagements going. I am quite lonely and the sadness can be overwhelming.
This doesn't count, but tomorrow I'm going to take Riley to the river and take myself to see Gatsby.
I just watched what is the best movie I've seen in a long time (other than the ones that I like to watch over and over again). It's called Sleepwalk With Me, and it's about a guy in a long term relationship who starts doing standup comedy and sleepwalking. I should say he learns how to do standup. It's great because unlike all these weird little indies that are weird for weirdness sake and still star beautiful people and end pretty much like the big movies do, this one is genuinely weird, because this one's true. But it's not weird in a fucked up, Clockwork Orange kind of way, it's fucked up in a real and relatable way - which is not only more interesting, it's really engaging.
Did I mention that Ira Glass produced it and co-wrote the screenplay?
It has such an NPR feel: a really interesting and crazy story. You can tell the characters aren't made up because the dialogue rings true. That was kind of startling because sometimes movies get close to that, but it's never right on like the narrator's got his parents down. It's funny even when it's sad just like those best parental intentions that come across as harsh or insane. Of course, it's much funnier to watch that play out in someone else's family.
I'm a sucker for nonfiction, I'll admit that. But I think this was a great story, and at the end I was part of the audience at the comedy clubs, listening to his actual act and laughing a deeper laugh- the kind you share with a close friend. I laughed not the way you feel obligated to at a comedy show, but because I couldn't help myself.
This and City Lights are my favorite movies I've watched so far this year. Well done.
Neat puzzle from Mom. I even love the graph paper box.
This is a payday weekend. I am going to find something fun to go do.
Just keep it going. The break is coming.
LOVE how these parents expect their toddler to sit quietly next to them during the long wait for a table. Don't play, don't move, just come sit down, you energetic little girl, and behave like an adult. Good luck with that nice dinner, parents.
I'm out at dinner by my lonesome. My coworker's football team is fundraising tonight and I can certainly eat for a good cause. I do not intend to spend much time on the phone. I was going to bring a book, but decided to meditate on my food instead. It's not here yet, but sounds delicious and I have already had some stuffed mushroommmmmms. I might be late for my Riley walk tonight, but we spent longer than I thought out in the grass this afternoon. I've been listening to an audio book on the DVD player at night and either puttering around or working on a cross stitch. I will not have time for that tonight, just a Riley walk and getting ready for tomorrow, but I do get to eat yummy food that's made and cleaned up by someone else. I still have to do dishes, though, because they are leftover. Should have planned that one better.
I live in a nice, clean place, where it's quiet and calm and I don't have to count the utensils. The quiet is good, even when I don't know what to do with it. I don't often feel like me, or the me I'm used to. Elaine said this is the best haircut I've had, and I agree. That feels right and so does my home.
What feels wrong is the quiet, though it is an itch that indicates healing. I'm glad you all think he's an asshole- keep me reminded. He's certainly capable of awful things. My vision is changing, but I'd prefer to think of love, past and future. I wasn't wrong.
"It's not enough to love something," somebody posted on Facebook. "You have to take care of it." That was love without care. Next chapter.
This may be a boring chapter. Time, patience, slow, painful growth. Quiet time, time out. Flush, donate, clean out. Rest. Listen.
Met a friend for a drink- look at me up at 1:30! Now I am really tired, but before bed I had to finish the last five chapters of An Object of Beauty. The short review is that Steve Martin wrote a truly fascinating book about the art world, but his protagonist is a heartless, awful, manipulative fantasy.
But what I really wanted to tell you (other than me keeping a specific resolution to read more) is that Riley was in her dog bed when I got home. She was in her living room dog bed. It was past her bedtime, and she might be sleeping, but it is not time to go to bed for real until I'm home. :)
