Oceans and rambling

Only a few hundred words today before I had to drive all over creation. We saw Ocean's Twelve.

Let me just say that I am as masturbatory, self-indulgent, and cutely referential as the next girl (although matociquala's spies might beat me). That said, twenty minutes in the middle of that movie can be neatly excised and tossed in a bin.

But I loved every scene that didn't have Julia Roberts. Clooney and Pitt have the best damn chemistry I've seen in a long time. Vincent Cassel is Hottie le Hot, as always. And Eddie Izzard! Huzzah!

A totally fun movie, with a lot of pretty scenery, both in the sets and the cast.

And of course, my brain couldn't actually shut up and let me see a movie in peace. I'm watching the movie, staring at Vincent Cassel (wiping the drool away) with his nose and poofy hair, and I hear this little voice in the back of my head saying "You know, he looks a lot like me."

I track the little voice down, and who would it be but Adrian, the prodigal ghoul himself. And I watch the way Cassel moves, the way he stands, all lithe and arrogant, and it's right. That's totally Adrian (well, except that Adrian has one blind eye, is shy, and sometimes turns into an upright jackal, but still). It explains how he ends up with the hot girls, but raises a few questions about what he did between leaving the tunnels and ending up selling curiosities in a dusty shop in Texas. And he still hasn't told me how he got all those scars. It seems Mr. Eugenides and I need to sit down and have a long talk sometime soon.

And that's my daily allotment of vomiting on the internet. Good night.

A moment of geekery

So, an opinion poll (I don't know how to set up a poll, so just answer in the comments.):

Who will be more superhumanly beautiful as she grows up?

Alexandria Jones (daughter of David Bowie & Iman)

Deva Cassel (daughter of Vincent Cassel and Monica Bellucci)

Of course, the Bowie child is clearly a stolen changeling.

Also, I was messing around in IMDB this morning and tripped over Cillian Murphy's page. I noticed he'd played a character in Cold Mountain named Bardolph. I thought Was there a Pistol or a Nym? And feeling goofy, I checked. There was a Pistol and a Nym. That was my happy Shakespearean geeksquee moment for the day.

Excercise Update

Weights -- 2900 lbs (it sounds so much more impressive when totaled).

Of course, the dreaded water retention has struck, so I'm four or five pounds heavier than I was three days ago and feel like the Queen of All Sea Cows.

I'm not counting calories or anything like that, but for those of you who like numbers, my starting weight was 150 lbs. (Currently at 154, because nature is eeeeevil.) The goal is anywhere between 135 and 140, and to generally not feel like a slug.

Only about 400 words today. I'm still coasting on the 6k from Saturday. But I read through the end of the last draft and realized it's not entirely awful--only very large portions. And it has the most abrupt ending ever and needs some denouement stapled on the end. There may be some hope for finishing early in January.