choose your own title day
soundtrack: if i told you this was killing me, would you stop? [the juliana theory]
mood: penitent
On Saturday night I went out to Mittens' place with Renae, Marshall, Forrest and Evan. Renae had rented Donnie Darko and Crime and Punishment in Suburbia, and wanted us to see them, so we did. My thoughts?
Darko was overhyped. On the one hand, it was very clever, and certainly thought-provoking. On the other, Donnie is a one-dimensional character, who smacks of nothing else than his fight to stay sane; his girlfriend is nondescript and devoid of personality; and the movie itself doesn't make any fucking sense. I usually wouldn't care about the last point, really, but ending was in the 'what the fuck?' field, like the shitty shitty ending to Tim Burton's shitty shitty Planet of the Apes cover.
Suburbia was at once both better and worse. On the surface, it's about a random social outcast who plays Jesus to the girl of his dreams and has everything work out in the end because he loves her. Certainly the cinematography is great, if the imagery a bit unsubtle - they really hammer it in to you that this kid is supposed to be a modern-day Son of God or summat.
Except he's not. He's a selfish, manipulative obsessive who causes a great deal of damage to several people's lives. See, what I interpret the imagery as, since he's narrating most of the story, is his own belief that he's an infallible Christ-like figure. The problem is, I'm not sure if the people who made this movie were aware that this character wasn't. Hopefully they were. I suppose in theory it doesn't matter at all, and the movie is just very good - but it pisses me off that anyone would think of this kid as some sort of selfless messiah.
Sunday and today both were shortened days at work, Sunday for being Sunday, and Monday for being Remembrance Day. Last night we went sledding on Michener Hill; Jimmy rode down in a shopping cart with tires attached, and almost killed himself, as per usual. Sledding is extra-fun-tastic, although I ended up with snow in every pocket of my clothes and several chilly orifices. Like my nose, and ears.
We went to Boston Pizza, and I got some hot chocolate with Bailey's in and and apple pie. The waitress ID'd me. What the fuck? I realize she's just doing her job, and I'm not mad at her - but when did I start looking like a twelve-year-old-kid? And how much damage could I have done with two shots of Bailey's, for chrissakes? I was not impressed.
I ended up not asking Stacy out, because she didn't show up for work on Saturday. I'm not sure, but that may have been a good thing. I've had an epiphany over the weekend, as you do. It all started with me thinking about what to get Chloe for Christmas.
See, at Leeds I spent so much time flirting with members of the opposite sex because I thought if I made Jen jealous, in some bizarro roundabout way it might rekindle things between us. I can blame this one partly on Kaido, as it was his advice. Anyway, I realized yesterday that after Leeds, I never really stopped doing this, despite having lost sight of the reason. So I'm not going to be making passes at everything that moves with no good reason, like I have been doing.
On the contrary, I'll be making passes with good reasons. My new maxim is self-improvement. If I want to up the odds of ever seeing Jen again, I need to improve the package so there's more demand. So from now on, I'm working out, making and saving more money, grinding culture into me like monosodium glutamate, and yes, hopefully dating to get some more experience in relationships. My new plan is to take journalism at U of A and get my master's somewhere in England, and then go work in London; hopefully by the time I reach that stage I'll have improved myself to such a degree that Jen might be amicable to at least speaking to me again, if not giving things another chance.
On that note, I have to go read a book and lift some weights. Tirrah.

  posted by james @ 11.11.02