Posts (page 2)

I keep saying that going to the movies is the best thing you can do with your pants on. Well, this weekend I was so frustrated cos I couldn't go to the movies, as all the cinemas were closed on the account that some guy resurrected. Big deal. So I did the next best thing: I watched a DVD. The flick we're talking about is Steve Buscemi's Interview. (Funny fact: try typing Buscemi's and the spell proof will underline it. The alternatives you get: Minuscule's or Septicemia's. True fact. Try it.)

Well, I never cared too much about Mr. Minuscule there; although he's a great actor, he never really did it for me. And even less about his female counterpart in the movie, La Sienna Miller, the actress turned socialite turned fashionista. I mean, no wonder the talented Mr. Law cheated on her with the nanny, of all women...

but...

Interview is one hell of a spectacular surprise!!! Well, we have one middle-aged journalists with one middle-life crisis and one successful soap actress, particularly famous for her love affairs. The journalist is a political analyst, but due to a series of unfortunate events, is sent by the editors to interview the said shallow self-obsessed mademoiselle. He waits for her for more than an hour in a restaurant in Manhattan, and just when he's about to leave, she shows up like nothing happened. The two of them politely hated each other and decided the interview it's not a good idea.

But...

Just when they walk out, he gets hurt in a taxi accident and she offers to help him and takes him at her nearby apartment. That's when the interview really starts. The tension between them gets extremely sexual, and they're both groping the thin red line with infinite lusciousnesses. Until they get drunk, and they lose all inhibitions only to confess to each other their deepest, darkest secrets. Or is it just a role play of a spoiled actress having fun, messing with an older full of himself investigative journalist? Or maybe a cunning experienced journalist trying to get juicy information from a young unsuspected victim? You have to see it for yourself. Both Buscemi and Miller are doing one helluva role, in this heartbeat accelerating salman rushdiesque story, very intense and disturbingly contemporaneous.

PS: I'm declaring Mondays "Movie Mondays", when, dah, I'll be talking about my favorite movies. Please feel free to COMMENT. Your opinion is highly valuable.

... Or should I say is. I mean, He ain't dead, isn't what all the fuss is about? More like a zombie, I'm guessing. Look, I'm not being blasphemous here, I'm just trying to get the facts straight. I have always been one to care for a clear perspective of the world, you see.

So, back in those days life was quite a blast. He had his posse (with chicks and everything), the meal was on Him all the time, you didn't need expensive medical insurance because if you needed, say, your leper cured, you just had to ask Him! Sure, He had a bit of a problem with the authorities, but who doesn't? Also on the downside, you had to walk everywhere, but that was fun too actually, you were like on a perpetual peripatetic summer camp festival. Nothing to worry about at all. No homework, no rent, no grocery shopping, no malfunctioning wireless servers. Nada! I wouldn't even gasp if they were rolling a fat one during the evenings in front the fire, where everybody was encouraged to tell their life stories, talk about comics (cos there weren't movies in those days, dah) and, of course, share some love experiences. Wasn't it all about LOVE, as the single most quintessential thing in the God created universe? I bet He was patient too, he listened carefully to everybody in a totally non-judgmental way and had a word of advise at all times.

My question is, what the fuck happened ever since? How the fuck did it all come to that ostentatious display of gold and lavishness and cornucopia that is, excuse the word, the church? Have you seen Vatican? It's obscene! I mean, apart from Michelangelo, Rafael, Donatello, Liberace and the other turtles, everything there is a blasphemy to the memory of this lovely chap.

So, ladies and gents, for those of you celebrating the catholic easter, without further ado, let me give you back The Buddy Christ, the very one from the set of the off-biblical (way off!) movie Dogma, one of my old time favorites.

I just woke up and I feel so tired. My eyes are sore. There's a good reason for it, I guess. Last night I stayed late writing. Very late writing. Yep, I was trying to make up for my crayzay partay week-end, when not even e single syllable was added to my masterpiece. And then I keep complaining to you guys, who are kind enough to read, that oh, this book doesn't write by itself.

Anywhoo, as I stated earlier, in a totally unexpected way, the book is almost as if it's starting to write by itself. It's unbelievable how rather effortlessly the words come together on the empty page, only to form an excellent body of work. Honestly now, everything I write now it's far better than all I did previously, and I don't even have to try so hard. I feel that finally I found my own voice and tone, and now everything comes out naturally. I love the way I can create passages that makes one cry, hope, root for something bad to happen, want someone's death, what to reach out and help someone, want to love someone, etc. It's funny, really, that I can finally master emotions. But, you realize, I'm the first victim here of my own mind trickery. The scariest thing happened last night: I was dreaming about one of my main characters. I was running from something, it's usually a bear that's my recurring nightmare, and I popped into this character's arms. And he was holding me tight, as I was crying on his shoulder, and suddenly my fear went away. I remember as if it was true, he was wearing a gray sweater and he was quite tall. He held my head with his palms and told me not to worry, that every thing's gonna be all right. I sure hope so, otherwise I might be going slightly insane here. I feel like I'm being haunted by my own mind lucubrations. Freaky! Is this a classic Pygmalion case here? Or maybe because I'm close to writing what is supposed to be a psychedelic passage, and subconsciously I'm preparing for it. Folks, I swear I'm not crazy.

Oh well. I'm gonna have to crawl out of the bed and go buy some supplies, I haven't been out of my room since Tuesday. I usually keep little supplies, so I don't get tempted. You understand.

Redlasso is the best discovery since the wheel!

I haven't been quite that often to the movies lately for some strange reason. I usually see at least three a week in cinema and 10+ on tv/dvd. Actually, the cinema near me is quite small and I've already seen all the films there. So the closest one with no-dubbing movies is one hour distance from my house, if you take the metro. Because you need to change lines a couple of times. But it's all worth it, going to the cinema is the best thing one can do with their pants on.

So I (finally) saw There Will Be Blood. Let me tell you something from the beginning: TWBB is an outstanding contribution to cinematography. In other words, one of the best films ever made. I always liked PTA's movies, and he came a long way from raining frogs. TWBB depicts the story of a man who is decaying beyond the line where he can be redeemed as a human being. The motives, well, you have to see the flick for yourselves, but it was not the greed, as most critics said, because he kept turning down many lucrative offers throughout his life, but rather his need of competing and win over any other person. It is a fascinating, moving and impressive story, profound and pertinent up to its every single aspect. PTA is one hell of a director and writer, sure, there are some wee bit long silent shots, but nothing gratuitous and the tension didn't suffer from it. Unlike No Country for Old Men, which totally disapointed me as I found the script to be weak and the plot was just hamed together, with uncountable loose ends. Anyway, Daniel Day Lewis gave possibly the best acting ever in a motion picture, from the history of times. The best I've ever seen, anyway. Paul Dano, the preacher man, was damn good too. He deserved an award for this role.

Then, since I was already there, I say, what the hell, I'm staying for another one. So, I picked something less dramatic and more entertaining: Jumper. Now, I am a Star Wars freak and also I believe Hayden Christiansen to be the most handsome man alive, but I'm not gonna be biased because of this. Jumper is quite of beautiful surprise, especially because my expectations weren't high, I guess. It can be easily in the same league of X-Men, Spider-Man, Batman, Highlander or even James Bond. Sure, I don't have enough fingers for the script idiosyncrasies, but that's the case in any super hero movie, ain't it? The point is, Jumper is about a guy who can teleport himself anywhere, and makes the most of this wonderful concept to arouse the viewer imagination. Just think about it, breakfast in Paris, lunch in Rome, surfing in Australia and partying in London, all in the same day. It's mouthwatering! And so is Hayden, who is kind enough to follow his trademark, which is getting topless at one point in the movie. Also, I'm glad he remained friends with Samuel I've Had It With These Motherfucking Snakes On This Motherfucking Plane L. Jackson, who brought a truly remarkable contribution as the bad guy. All in all, the flick leaves you with a wonderful feeling of joy and empowerment. What more can you ask for, really?

I know I will! Later, when I go to the pub for a guiness in my killer green tee. Until then, I leave you with outstanding Irish citizens that make us, the rest of the world, so proud of their cultural heritage!

El Colin, bad boy turned good! I applaud.

All right, all right, he's not Irish but he's McPatrick and that's all that matters.

A true gentlemen like Liam there's never been and never will.

Oh Jonno! Baby's on fire! How many times have I and my friends listen to this song! Thank you.

Mr. Gabriel Byrne is the epitome of suavity.

Daniel, actor and shoemaker, just won the Oscar for best actor. Those eyes!

Ok folks, he's rocking that 'stache. What? Oh, he's totally worth twice!

Double Oh Behave! Mr. Pierce I'll Have You If You Shave Brosnan!

Very Important Politician.

My biggest hero (alive), Sir Geldof, humanitarian.

See people, I'm not all superficial. Long live Ireland!

Yesterday I woke up early and went to the market with Sabrina to buy grapefruits. She brought from Buenos Aires a special kind of tea, some Argentinian traditional herb called Yierba Mate. Tastes shitty unless you drink it from a grapefruit with a hole in it. And then we made plans for the evening to go out a little bit, as we never went out partying together and it's high time we did it. And, boy, what a night we had!

First, we started with an Irish pub to pay homage to our beloved green friends as they were celebrating St. Patrick's day in their own special way. We blended it. It was funny cos everyone in the pub was wearing green clover hats. Then we went to a fancy bar, where we had a glass of champaign each, enough to kick the evening in. Then we went to this club, where Sabrina knew the bartender and we got all the drinks for free. That would be a Jaggermaister shot and a caipirhinia. We were laughing and having a very good time. The more I discover Sabrina, the more I like her. She's a clever girl with personality and principals. I don't know if I used the right words to describe her, but you get the idea; like, you don't meet this kind of people very often. Most people are schmucks.

Well, it turns out that next week Sabrina's ex bf is visiting her from Italy. Apparently, all of a sudden, he realized she is the love of his life, and wants to get back with her. She's not so sure, also it's the long distance issue, but she's willing to see what happens. Ok, that being said, I can continue with the night's tale. Sabrina bumped into some acquaintance of her, who was either very happy to see her or had a banana in his pocket. The guy was with his friend, some dude named Ingo who claimed to be a saxophone player. So I ended up making conversation with him. He said he just toured the world with his group, and he had some excellent experiences. Also, he invited me to his next concert, he said I would love to hear him playing. I was way too educated to tell him that sax is not my thing, unless, of course, Johnny Depp was playing it. And he's no Johnny Depp.

And then, he asked me what my age was, and upon learning it, he said: "well, I'm three years younger than you, that's quite a lot of age gap there". "Hold you horses, cowboy, it's not like I like you anyway, so don't even bother making any kind of calculations." By that time, we were walking towards the metro station and we both received a red rose from our chevaliers. And he asked, "what do you mean you don't like me?" "Well, it's simple, you're rather ugly, quite fat and your hair is a mess. So you see, it's ok for me to have a conversation with you, but that's all I'm willing to concede to you. And mind you, it's quite a treat you're getting here as I'm in my "conversational prime"". And, ladies and gents, here comes the best part: "well, you're a pretty girl all right, but for a ==my nationality== you've quite a big mouth". (the translation from Spanish is quite approximate, but this is the meaning of his words). I was almost happy he gave me grounds to unleash myself. So I said loud to Sabrina, "girl, your friend's friend keeps insulting me and on the top of it he's a nazi. How about we catch the next train and get rid of them, cos they're such a bore?" "Good idea", she said, and we threw the roses in the litter bin and got away. A lot of people around us saw the whole scene, and they all cheered us and invited us to join them if we wanted. Actually, we got home and rolled a fat one and laughed our bums out.

But the question still remains, in modern day Spain, a twenty something makes nazi remarks to people. How should I address this issue? Should I consider all Spanish people are nazis and give them all the dirty look? Meh, that would make me just like this guy. Should I teach him some manners? Meh, if his momma didn't, neither will I. So, somebody please tell me how the fuck should I relate to this, cos sure as hell I ain't taking shit from no one!

    The cheerful disposition never left me. This morning, I woke up very early, spent about three hours in preening, because I'm sure you know by now that in an interview, be it a job interview, the looks count more than the resume. Not that my resume is not good enough, but in a world of good enoughs, a decent look makes the difference. Also, it was an excellent opportunity for me to show of my new printemps collection of hot couture. (God, I'm good with words!). So, dressed up as the queen of mods, nothing less, I believe I made an excellent impression on the recruitment lady. I certainly exceeded my own expectations. I was so communicative, so spiritual, so poised, I truly amazed myself. I may have made a few things up just for the sake of an interesting conversation, but all in all I told her exactly what I wanted and she seemed committed to help me get it. Because normally I'm quite grumpy and serious when with new people, I need quite a lot of foreplay in order to let my hair down. So maybe I'm starting to change, to evolve into a superior being, the homo comunicatiens, and all I have to do in order to achieve something is to look pretty, smile and have no problem in expressing myself in a flamboyant yet effective way. Wouldn't that be great? The world would be a better place.
    Or maybe is just Mercury not being retrograde anymore, but who's counting?
    I walked home for about an hour and a half, it was a worm, sunny springtime day, and the soft breeze was caressing my face. The purple satin ballerina shoes didn't exactly thank my feet for it, but what the hell, I was stoic. I resisted most impulses to enter shops, except for the couple of times when I badly needed to check myself in the mirror, because I was afraid my mascara was yielding. False alarm!
     When I got home I wrote no less than four excellent pages, that need no revisions, probably the best pages of the chapter so far. I'm so excited about it. Finally, I feel I found my own voice, quite innovative, direct, I got rid of pompous words and I go straight to the point. I'm loving it. And as if all that wasn't enough, I spent quality time with my flat mates, Sabrina and Toni, and after all this time of almost-belligerent attitude, we really clicked and had fun.
     I can't ask for anything more, can I?

Great days those last two! Yesterday I had some friends back home visiting Barcelona and I spent one of the best days of the year so far. They are ex work colleagues, believe it or not, but they're fun, smart and outrageously delicious people. First we did a little bit of shopping and then we went eating in a fancy schmancy restaurant downtown in the Gothic quarters. We had to queue to get in, and my friends were so amazed by it. They never believed people would queue to go to a restaurant. Well, here you go! Then we had paella and sangria, and man, the party had begun. The cheered and good disposition I had overcame my habitual reservation and I was the most verbose, extrovert girl in the world. I told funny stories, I made silly faces and everybody was laughing along. My guess is it's the language. I was missing talking in my native language with witty funny people who understand my sense of humor. The thing is, I only write in my native language, I rarely have the chance to speak it, unless of course, we don't count the endless arguments with my sister. Then, I do speak Spanish a lot, but it's not the same. Spanish is not a funny language. It's very serious and sumptuous. English is by far the best language to be hilariously funny, but again, I only use it when I write here, I watch Jon Stewart on redlasso.com and, of course, read gossip blogs. I'm thinking to move to an English speaking country as of this summer. I don't know. Maybe.

On the other hand, it's been almost five months since I'm here and my main goal, the novel, is far from being near the end. I started the third part and I reached tenth page, but it's going so slow. I'm planning by the end of the month to finish the third part. Should be doable. Otherwise, I'm waisting my life here. Time is creeping behind my back, the motherfucker!

Tomorrow I have a job interview. Some PR company for luxury products. Sounds like fun, although, I don't really want to go to work. Not again! Well, I'll just go to the interview and see how's going on. Just for the fun of it. Also, I have the chance to show off my new clothes. Oh my god, I'm gonna look stunning!