Shorter days mean I start the yearly ritual of hibernation, and just in
time for the holidays I lose almost all of my desire to be out and
about. Tybalt thinks he's died and gone to heaven.
On Wednesday my usual date was already in L.A. for Thanksgiving, so I
watched Peter Weir's Picnic at Hanging Rock at home with the kitty
on my lap. It tells the story of a group of schoolgirls in
turn-of-the-century Australia who go on a picnic in the countryside only
to have a few of their party vanish without a trace. There's all sorts
of crazy sexual undertones going on, and the mood of the film reminded me
very much of Peter Jackson's Beautiful Creatures. I was also
reading a strong message about colonialism akin to Passage to
India. Mostly I'm just fascinated that this is the same director who
made Dead Poet's Society, The Truman Show, and the Russell
Crowe extravaganza Master and Commander (which I haven't seen yet
but you know I'm going to because tall ships and engineer's daughter go
together like chocolate and peanut butter).
My family and friends took good care of me this weekend, filling me with
amazing food and keeping me distracted as best they could. meriko and
Russell alone had not one but two wonderful gatherings. If there's one
thing I'm grateful for this year it's all y'all.
Brent and I journeyed into the Castro Friday evening to feed him the pasta
he's been craving for the last three years and to see Tamala
2010: A Punk Kitty in Space. I'm not even going to bother trying to
describe the plot of this movie, I simply urge you to sit back and enjoy
the ride. Goddess cults, Osama Tezuka-style animation, cutting-edge
French electronica on the soundtrackwhat more could you want? I
loved every minute of it.