mnvnjnsn's Diary

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Cold Water

Earlier today I couldn't stop thinking about all the things I wanted to write here, about movies and politics and loss and love-- but now the day is almost over and I've lost what little energy I had. Bleah.

I can sense my mood slipping back down into that stupid sleepy, gloomy Eeyore place I get into every few months. I shouldn't be going down that route, since the new year is upon us and I have unused gift cards to use and new DVDs to digest, but I watched The Girl in the Cafe on HBO last night, and there's nothing like a sad love story to get me a-mopin' (even though my love life is sunshine and smiles. No, really it is). I've downloaded Damien Rice's O-- and that certainly doesn't help matters since he's very moody and lush-- and so I've been sitting here all day typing addresses into an Excel Spreadheet thinking about how heartbreaking Bill Nighy's performance in the movie is.

I had all sorts of critical praise and deep emotional insights into how he plays this particular character, but now it all seems so fangurl. And so, in typical fangurl style, just understand that Bill Nighy is hott and he rox my world.

4:29 p.m. - 2005-12-29


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