Sweetie

Sweetie got home today from way out of town. She looked hot. Tired and jetlagged. But hot. I parked at the wrong airport terminal and I had to circumnavigate the Encounter restaurant three times to find my car. What should have been a pit stop turned into a major excursion. Anyway we got away safe and she's sleeping in the next room. Probably close to unconscious. Is sleeping unconscious?

It seems like the rest of the office has figured out that the BigEvent is happening soon. It's kind of fun. I like it when we're all working on one big thing instead of each person having their own projects. There's plenty of work, but most of it will get done. And Jefe actually had the interns take shit to the storage unit instead of me. Damn. I must be moving up in the world.

The cats sleep at my feet. I chatted with a coworker today about Democrats not sticking the knife in or as he said, "kicking them while they're down." I don't think that's a good idea yet. Even the mid-term elections are a ways off. The democrats need to give the right as much rope as they need to hang themselves.

It's working out tomorrow and who knows what else.

I watched Human Nature last night. What a strange film! I liked it but I can't say that it was easy to watch. There were some boring stretches. The film is distancing and presentational. And I never would have thought that the ending would be... I'll tell you later. Anyway it seems that Gondry and Kaufman took all the flaws from Human Nature and corrected them for Eternal Sunshine. Crazy hyperreal presentational fx in Human Nature, gone in Eternal Sunshine. Distancing multiple points of view in Human Nature, gone in Eternal Sunshine. Ditto the bummer ending. The very, most redeeming part of Human Nature was Miranda Otto's performance and French accent. The film is very, very tightly constructed, like a swiss watch or a jungle ecosystem or an office ecosystem. And the cruelty. It's a very cruel film. "Remember, when in doubt, you should never do what you truly want to do." Especially the message. The message is so hopeless.

Percival Everett's book WOUNDED was recommended to me today by Jefe.