Atonement
Juno
The Savages
The Golden Compass*
Beowulf (3D)
I Am Legend*
Charlie Wilson's War*
Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story
P.S. I Love You*
Plus remaining episodes of
"Chuck"
&
"Project Runway: 4th Season"
* Dependent upon RottenTomato-meter.
Monday, December 3, 2007
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Rush Hour: A Personal Diary
I wake up in a sweat every morning at 5:25. Just a few more minutes.
--
ERNH, ERNH, ERNH, click.
5:30 - Time to get up.
6:10 - I walk out the door with a Coca-cola, Nutri-grain cereal bar, a Gatorade, and a sacked lunch. I can't see out of my back window for five minutes. The night is still thick in the air, moist and dark. I see other drivers' eyes through their blinding headlights behind me: some tired, some confused, some alert, some impatient. Me? I'm relaxed. I know I have a long way to go.
6:40 - I've reached the red sea of taillights. The tide goes in and out, and I let it slowly absorb my car until we're just a jellyfish: in, out, in, out, and steadily moving west.
6:50 - The ocean breaks, and a tributary turns north. 285: the perimeter. The stream is fast and furious; giant logs of steel move downstream at awkward angles. Swift fishes - both tiny and large - cut through the rapids. I try to slow down, but the pace picks up.
7:00 - The water slows almost to a standstill. The black asphalt simmers with congestion. The exits come slowly now, one at a time. The sign overhead reads "I-85: 18-23 MIN" every time.
7:25 - What once was a stream opens up into a floodplain, an entanglement of concrete branches hang overhead, each weighted down by literal tons of moving traffic. I admire the architectural splendor in the afternoon, but now I only see ahead: deep crimson, like blood, flows slowly for miles to the west.
7:40 - 6 lanes over. Bear right for freedom. GA-400. Relief. My knuckles have blood in them again.
8:00 - I'm home -- or it feels like it. 60 miles in nearly two hours. Today was a good day.
4:00p - Time to do it backwards.
--
ERNH, ERNH, ERNH, click.
5:30 - Time to get up.
6:10 - I walk out the door with a Coca-cola, Nutri-grain cereal bar, a Gatorade, and a sacked lunch. I can't see out of my back window for five minutes. The night is still thick in the air, moist and dark. I see other drivers' eyes through their blinding headlights behind me: some tired, some confused, some alert, some impatient. Me? I'm relaxed. I know I have a long way to go.
6:40 - I've reached the red sea of taillights. The tide goes in and out, and I let it slowly absorb my car until we're just a jellyfish: in, out, in, out, and steadily moving west.
6:50 - The ocean breaks, and a tributary turns north. 285: the perimeter. The stream is fast and furious; giant logs of steel move downstream at awkward angles. Swift fishes - both tiny and large - cut through the rapids. I try to slow down, but the pace picks up.
7:00 - The water slows almost to a standstill. The black asphalt simmers with congestion. The exits come slowly now, one at a time. The sign overhead reads "I-85: 18-23 MIN" every time.
7:25 - What once was a stream opens up into a floodplain, an entanglement of concrete branches hang overhead, each weighted down by literal tons of moving traffic. I admire the architectural splendor in the afternoon, but now I only see ahead: deep crimson, like blood, flows slowly for miles to the west.
7:40 - 6 lanes over. Bear right for freedom. GA-400. Relief. My knuckles have blood in them again.
8:00 - I'm home -- or it feels like it. 60 miles in nearly two hours. Today was a good day.
4:00p - Time to do it backwards.
Thursday, October 4, 2007
Let me stand up again.
Livejournal account loss due to lost neural connections.
The next step of blogging begins: the inevitable shift to bigger and better things made small and less significant through the passing of time. However it remains a common leeching point for interesting thoughts yet to be written down.
--
The aura of television still encapsulates me with emotional vision and inspiring thoughts. I'm always looking for something new, and right now that something new is Tell Me You Love Me on HBO. As a passionate digester of social psychology, I love a program so dedicated to real relationships and their problems. The show follows three couples along their route to better self-worth and a better love relationship. They all have specific yet complicated problems with no clear answer. The problems seem to escalate and falter in a wooden rollercoaster sort of way, while a counselor asks really good questions and offers no clear answers.
Once again HBO fills in the absence of one of its excellent shows with yet another one. You would think in a world filled with meaningless tv that every channel would err once in a while, but not HBO.
The next step of blogging begins: the inevitable shift to bigger and better things made small and less significant through the passing of time. However it remains a common leeching point for interesting thoughts yet to be written down.
--
The aura of television still encapsulates me with emotional vision and inspiring thoughts. I'm always looking for something new, and right now that something new is Tell Me You Love Me on HBO. As a passionate digester of social psychology, I love a program so dedicated to real relationships and their problems. The show follows three couples along their route to better self-worth and a better love relationship. They all have specific yet complicated problems with no clear answer. The problems seem to escalate and falter in a wooden rollercoaster sort of way, while a counselor asks really good questions and offers no clear answers.
Once again HBO fills in the absence of one of its excellent shows with yet another one. You would think in a world filled with meaningless tv that every channel would err once in a while, but not HBO.
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