bending_sickle | Proof (of somewhat doable life)

Written March 30, 2006

Neither yesterday nor today did I have French class. Yesterday it totally screwed me over, leaving me gasping, wondering “what the hell should I do with myself now?” Naturally enough, I wandered about the city for two hours, got home at my usual time, and spent the rest of the day doing nothing until it was almost tomorrow, whereupon I did my homework.

Today, however, I had a plan. I called the school to see if the teacher was still sick (ineffectual: school must pick up phone for this plan to work). I ended up going to the school, ascertaining that I had no class, telling a classmate same (getting asked, completely randomly, the Question From Hell, aka “where are you from” – never, I’ve noticed, followed by “I’m from x”) and high-tailing it off to the metro, running through sunny and hot (hot!) streets to the Mall At The End Of The World and being ten minutes late for the 12 pm Harry Potter 4.

Which would have been alright if the ticket ladies hadn’t disappeared. So no Harry.

Instead I had a croissant and coffee for the delightful price of 1.80 and worked away on my French essay (previous entry). It turned out way too long and, possibly, personal, but meh.

So instead I watched “Proof” at 1:30 pm.

While I spent most of the movie in near-tears, I really liked it. I was surprised when it ended because I just wanted it to keep going.

I loved the first scene, where Catherine is TV-zapping on a rainy night. How she’s beyond bored, beyond insisting finding something to watch…

I loved how Catherine joked about needing friends first before they could take you out.

I loved that I knew exactly what Anthony Hopkins was going to say when Catherine asked him how could if be if he recognized he was crazy, and had just said that crazy people never say they’re crazy. In my head, I was all, “Well, that’s because he’s dead.” Hopkins says, “Well, I’m also dead.” But it’s not a groan-worthy “knew it was coming” thing. I think it’s nice that we (or maybe just me) figure it out. It’s expected and sweet and very sad. Also, damn you, Shyamalan, for making me notice how he never touched anything.

I loved that most of the movie is just dealing with grief and seeing Catherine’s fear of going insane like her father. I loved how she kept breaking down even when she was making love.

I loved the not-really-that nerdy mathematicians, and how they all hung out. I loved their little song number called “i” (which is an imaginary number and thus an imaginary song, i.e. there is no song, Nero).

I loved Hal (played by a very fluffy-haired Jake Glynensomething). He was the perfect boyfriend. No, really. Perfect. Just-- Sigh. He didn’t fuck up, not really. Plus, he’s hot, funny, super supportive…

I loved the poem about cold months and infinity, and the one at the end about a locked room.

Also, I loved knowing exactly where they filmed the Chicago scenes. Recognizing streets by “out the window, looking at the sky and seeing flags” views and benches is always fun.

Parents in Chicago as of Saturday. (Mom said she’d totally bring me maple syrup. Woot!)

Then I went to MCarmen’s and gave Kique my ID numbers. Start work on Monday.

Going to Cubelles tomorrow. Have to look for more possible courses I might be able to take. Particularly group courses.

Have yet another scene to write. This one, thankfully, is almost assuredly a one-shot drabble. And I think I can manage (for now) to not write about dead!Mal or Maul on Serenity. For now.

Hell, if I manage to even write out my scribbles I’ll be happy.

Going to bed now (well, sleep – am in bed already) so not today.

PS: Watching