Oh. Life is beautiful. ...That was a good movie.
Other'n'that, I'm disturbed by some of the morons winning Globes last night. Desperate Housewives? I'd rather attempt my own dental-work than sit through that disgusting material (it's about as realistic as myself actually succeeding in my own cavity-drilling, and quite a bit more painful). And those idiot bulemic women accepting their awards, pretending they all actually like eachother. So, I'm a little biased. Tony Shaloub deserves every award he's up for, and do people not realise that this is the last season of Will & Grace? And I think that Jamie Foxx was the only sincere person to accept an award, every other person who ended in tears was horribly contrived. And Leonardo DiCaprio? No. Just, no. And how is it that no matter what Johnny Depp does to hide it, he's always incredibly good-looking? Those old grandpa Mort Rainey glasses didn't hide it at all! He's so cool, and so talented. It's not fair, not fair at all.
All right, all right, I swear I have a life. So, my last entry was devoted to my artwork, and some of the paintings were re-runs that you've seen before. My Taj Mahal I actually improved, giving it some colour and definition, and the rest was waste-of-time ickyness. I finished my NYU application with a half-an-hour left to get it to the post office and sent off. And I still forgot to include my resume, so I desperately hope that my counselour included a copy in her letter... or else I'm in deep doo-doo. Erm... it's not like college is that important.
Anyway, I went to a used-book sale at the public library Saturday, again. Those sales are so addicting! This time there were over 8,000 books, most of them brand-new (a local bookstore went out of business and donated its books), but the prices were higher than usual (instead of a paper-back costing a quarter, it was a dollar). But, in compensation, the choices weren't very good. An entire half of the room was taken up by romance novels. There was one box of classics, and that's always the box I raid. All I could find was a collection of Anton Chekov's short stories (I loved his one-act play, The Bear... he's that one exception to my Russian literature rule), Hamlet, and Roger Ebert's Guide to Movies (from the art section, it's a collection of every movie criticism he wrote until 1995, when it was published!) (YAY!).
Then I raided the records, and bought an old copy of the Greig music to "Peer Gynt". Did you know that was written by the same man who wrote A Doll's House? (And why is that title sometimes A Doll House? Maybe it was lost in translation.) I also bought some weird elevator music just for the cover-art. I don't know what to do with the record, because I don't want it, just the cover. I'll just keep it anyway, instead of making it into a bowl. Maybe it'll be worth something one day! (Doubt it.)
So, my book-list is increased! I also want to read Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. I've wanted to read it for years, but my mum wouldn't lend me her copy (it wasn't "child appropriate"), but now she will. I might just bump it up to the top, 'smatter of fact! I lent my mum Angela's Ashes, but I'm writing an essay on it soon for AP English, and I'll need it back for forty minutes the night before the essay is due. (I can taste the procrastination already!) I basically begged my AP teacher to let me write about it. The prompt is a Tolstoy quote, you know the one, about unhappy families being unhappy in their own way. (You know how I feel about Tolstoy.) Well, I have to write about Frank McCourt at least once for that class, and this is the perfect prompt! I love that book, and it's counterpart, 'Tis. She warned me to stay away from the movie in my essay, and I will, because I've never seen the movie! (I thought it would ruin the experience of the book for me... I love that book! I'd have to, to skip out on a movie!)
Gosh, I ramble a lot. Blah blah blah. Well, I've a lot more to say (but I can't say it here). News! Big news! That I can't share! That's okay, I've really got to go!
**The title is from Angela's Ashes, Frank McCourt's essay on "Jesus and the Weather", the part about Mary Magdalene.