It’s been a little bit over one year since me and Jim made our humble trek to the College of DuPage to check out the VHS (sacre bleu!) copy of Wings. After picking up the chicken wings and bow-tie pasta accoutrements, I can still picture, in my mind’s eye, fate playing tricks on my mouth and blurting out right there on Roosevelt Road, that we (I) should blog this whole (mis) adventure. And Jim agreeing. Oy. But I must say it’s worked out pretty well. I don’t think if I hadn’t been keeping a record that we would still be doing this: Hell, Cavalcade would of stopped anyone in their tracks. I am of stern bad movie watching stuff.
Here I am a year later and about 30 movies in and I love it. And hate it: Blame it on the writing process. Words never comes out the way you want them to. Trust me, my mind is way more clever than my fingers. Well, sigh, comma, I hope it is.
Gigi is done but for the writing. It’ll get done soon. Hopefully I’ll lose a Scene It game soon.
I’m not looking forward to Ben Hur at all ( hello, Academy, you should be arrested for not picking Some Like it Hot.) But all the fun and bitterness is gonna have to wait because right now I’m on vacation in Hilton Head, on a steamy balcony, typing on a craptastic laptop. I’m looking forward to the sixties. It’s chock full of musicals. I love me my musicals. Just saw Hairspray tonight. Amazing.
Anyway, blog, I’m gonna virtually let you push some birthday cake into your face, and play with your see n’ say, and give you some motherly hugs and kisses. You’ve been a good baby so far.
I *so* hope I finish this dang project before you become a surly teenager wanting to borrow my car.