Aug. 16th, 2002

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Saw Triple X tonight (XXX? However it's spelled, I saw it). And oh my God. I loved it, like, SO MUCH. You have no idea. Vin Diesel's mind control ray seems to be in full working order, as yet another soul (mine) has crossed over from vague disinterest to eternal devotion this week. Before, I was Switzerland regarding Vin. Then all of a sudden on Tuesday I was struck with an all-consuming NEED to see Vin in a full-length feature film on the big screen, and how convenient! Triple X is showing at half the screens of every theater near you! What caused this remarkable transformation? Mind control ray? Publicity blitz for huge Hollywood movie? You decide.

Work is crazy busy. Would say more, but that sums it up pretty well. I continue to screw up regularly and with panache, but most of the time it's cluelessness and not carelessness. I try to tell myself that the former is the better of the two, but I'm not sure. Both can probably get you fired. Oh well.

Tomorrow I'm going to see Blue Crush and I can't wait!! For some reason I have been dying to see that movie since I saw the first preview. On the topic of movies I'm dying to see: 8 Mile. There was a preview for it at XXX/Triple X and really, it was a fantastic one. Or maybe it's just my sudden interest in Eminem acting up. It's so weird! I never used to care one way or the other about him, and suddenly I find myself obsessing over his life-based film. Maybe Eminem has a mind control ray TOO!

Mind control ray or no, said Eminem fascination has apparently gotten so that he brings about the flappy-armed silent scream, a frightening sight to behold. Blessedly, tonight it happened in a darkened theater and if people gave me odd looks because of it, I didn't see them. Must control self better once the previews start showing up on TV.

Continuing on with the Eminem theme, I have his CD and not long after I bought it, I was at the beach with my family listening to it and my father walked up to me, all "What's this?" and asked to Cleaning Out My Closet. And then suddenly I was watching my father, 52-year-old attorney, jam down by the water's edge with my CD walkman in hand, belting out the chorus every time it came on ("I'M SORRY MAMA! I NEVER MEANT TO HURT YOU-OO-UU! I NEVER MEANT TO MAKE YOU CRY, BUT TONIGHT I'M CLEANING OUT MY CLOSET. One more time, I'M SORRY MAMA..."). I'm lucky that at least part of me has aged past thirteen so that I didn't die of embarrassment on the spot.

And also, tomorrow is casual Friday! Life is good.

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