I watched this movie awhile ago and really didn’t know what to think. The more time passes since I watched it though, the more it grows on me. I’m not sure if it’s the wine I was drinking while I watched it, or that I really like Isabella Rossellini, or that the idea of prosthetic glass legs filled with Miller High Life are just endlessly entertaining to me. But for at least one of these reasons, I officially not only like this movie, but love it. I think I need to watch it again sometime, sans wine buzz.

(And yes, there really are prosthetic glass legs filled with Miller High Life in this movie. Swear to god.)

Yippy!

I was in a crud mood and then I saw that this came in the mail for me today. Now I plan on drinking beers and listening to This American Life, alone in my apartment.

I love single life.

I love me some Leonard Cohen, but damn is he serious.

I started reading this book forever and ages ago and I’ve resorted to picking it up once or twice a week before I go to bed and reading maybe 10 pages.

It’s good reading and interesting, but just not a real page-turner for me.

But I’m ready to be done with it so I can return it to its rightful owner (my friend Ryan) and get on with other reading materials that I’m more interested in, like sex books and Beverly Cleary.

So I ordered a few Ramona books off Amazon and they arrived yesterday evening.

I started out with Ramona Quimby: Age 8 because I loved being 8-years-old. That’s actually the only age I liked between the ages of 4 and 15. It was just a fun year.

I hadn’t read a Ramona book since I was in elementary school and wondered if it’d hold up now that I’ve become a scholarly young lady that occasionally reads Dostoevsky and the like.

Beverly Cleary could kick Dostoevsky’s ass. Within the opening paragraphs, Ramona gets onto the school bus, for her first bus ride by herself. It’s the first day of school and it’s a brand new school bus.

I had forgotten all about brand new school buses. I forgot about sliding onto a smooth new bus seat that doesn’t have tears, shredded threads, and graffiti drawn on it by miscreant elementary school kids. I forgot about the smell of new bus seats.

Anyway – although it’s not something I want to do too often, I enjoyed my little trip back into my 3rd grade mind and it’s nice to know a book I treasured as a child is just as meaningful at the age of 25.

Agent99 gave me a copy of this book for Christmas. How sweet is that? It’s like 800 pages long, people. I think if I were to attempt to write a guide to getting it on, it’d probably end up essay-length. There’s clearly a lot I need to learn. And pictures I want to see, cause I heard they’re entertaining.

Merry Christmas, 99!