 Saturday Drivel |
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Thanks to Kymm, I now have copy of Angels in America in my hot little hands, and I would love nothing more than to crawl into bed and watch all 80 hours of it tonight, but I must go out for drinks instead for a friend's birthday. My little brother and I celebrated the day before his birthday by going to a early showing of Return of the King, and I was so exhausted by the effort that I collapsed with a recorded (thank you, TiVo) Prime Time special from December 4 on the film and passed out on the couch for several hours. I'm going to have to talk about the film later, because there are some things I've just not processed yet. Suffice it to say that right now I'm listening to Billy Boyd sing "The Steward of Gondor," and it's filling my scroogey little heart with longing and a sick and randy mirth. I'm worried I'm going to spend the entirety of Angels in America pissed off about the fact that Justin Kirk was overlooked in the Golden Globe nominations, but somehow I guess I'll work through it. We ordered a seafood lunch (I had shrimp and crawfish primavera) yesterday at work and exchanged gifts. I scored a bottle of merlot, a jar of chocolate raspberry dipping sauce, a gigantic glass cookie jar (by gigantic I mean the kind perhaps only an actual giant would ever use, but given by my bereaved boss, and I'm just so touched that she was able to find the composure to give gifts right now that I embrace it with fervor and love), some cute ornaments, and some homemade soap. Nobody wanted to work after that, so I spent the afternoon reading episode summaries of six seasons of Party of Five and marveling at the stark reminder of how great it was in the beginning and how sorely it bit in the end. I read recently that they're releasing the first season on DVD, and it just made me remember how much I once loved this show. In fact, I think the very first email Elizabeth ever sent to me was about this show after she read an entry in which I mentioned it. In spite of how much it sucked by the time it was cancelled, I will be snatching up that DVD set with relish the day it's released and reliving some of that beautiful first season angst. Don't think I won't. Oh! The man for whom I wrote my first speech called me personally yesterday to tell me that the audience loved it and that I made him "shine like new money." He then said he wants me to write every speech of his from now on, at which point I feigned a bad connection and hung up. Time for drinks. Sibling birthdays tomorrow. Over and out.
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