No artist is pleased. There is no satisfaction at anytime.
There is only a queer, divine dissatisfaction,
a blessed unrest keeps us marching and makes us more alive than others.
-- Martha Graham to Agnes De Mille
Was || Will Be || Past Moments || Now || Notes

2002-12-18 - 1:25 a.m.

Senseless non-life, "Dog Soldiers" and Sad, dit moi

Shit happens, and then again, nothing ever happens.

You want insomnia? This Sunday through Monday, I stayed up 36 straight hours. *That's* insomnia.

Have I mentioned recently that sometimes I hate my life, and other times, I'm just indifferent? Yeah.

So, I need to break my PlayStation into a million pieces and be rid of it.

I'm trying to remember what I did on Saturday, and I honestly have no idea.

I know that on Sunday I watched "Dog Soldiers" which is, bar none, the best B movie horror flick I've seen in *years*. I highly recommend it. It knows all the rules of a B horror flick, and follows them, except a few less important ones, which it gleefully breaks. The plot is different enough for you to keep interested, but predictable enough that you can be proud to stay a step ahead of the characters. Ah, the characters. That's definitely the best part. The characters and well fleshed-out and generally believable (except for the too-cold villain), and HeroMan, Rudy and I found ourselves yelling and cheering for one of the spunkier dudes to actually survive, when he went fisticuffs with a werewolf. Damned good movie.

Sad that the biggest occurance over the last four days is a movie.

Speaking of movies. Tomorrow. Two Towers. I'm slavering. I'm drooling. I'm giddy with anticipation.

I'm tired, and I'm going to bed.

Sad, dit moi.

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