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Yay! "Monster" and "The Cooler" started playing at my local movie theater today! *Charlie Browns around the room* After this week, I desperately needed me-time at the movies tomorrow, but my options were limited to depression-fests I haven't seen yet. (I still want to see "21 Grams", "House of Sand and Fog", and "Cold Mountain" as soon as possible. I hate going into awards season unprepared.)

So, yay! Two movies tomorrow -- the happy, funny one, and the one with William H. Macy! (Yes, I am the sick bastard who thinks she'll have fun in the serial-killer movie. Sue me.)

If you haven't figured out how Oscar-happy I am, well, I've already started considering movies for the all-day Oscar-nomination marathon I do every year. Granted, normally it's just me alone watching movies by myself, but this year, it will ... well ... it'll still be me watching by myself, I wager. I can't decide whether to watch this year's possible nominees (I've got "Bend It Like Beckham", "Seabiscuit", "Finding Nemo" and -- God willing -- that list will include "Pirates") or watch last year's winners, since I've also got "Spirited Away", "Chicago", and the real Best Picture, "The Pianist". (Someday, someone will explain to me how a movie can have the best screenplay, the best director, and the best actor and not be the best picture.)

*rereads post* Dear holy crap, I'm such a nerd.

Yaaaaaaay, weekend!

Our 7-11 definitely needs to start selling better alcohol. There's absolutely no Smirnoff, red or black, so I had to settle for Mike's Hard Cranberry Lemonade. I've never had this before, but it's actually not half bad.

However, Smirnoff Triple Black remains the alcoholic beverage I'd drink an entire case of simply to celebrate the fact I've got a working esophagus. You know, if I wasn't a cheap three-bottle drunk.

I still think it's terribly unfair I got the brains and my little brother got the wow-this-TARDIS-holds-a-lot-of-liquor hollow leg.

(no subject)

A conversation between me and my seventeen-year-old self:

ME: Whee! We're buzzed!

ME-AT-17: Hey! *swipes away bottle* We said we'd never ever drink any alcoholic --

ME: Yeah, well, we were stupid. Bacardi Lemon? *offers her younger self a drink*

ME-AT-17: Stop that!

ME: What? Look, don't give me that more-teetotaler-than-thou crap. You're just saying that because you haven't had strawberry daquiris yet. And Smirnoff Black? Dude, you'd trade your laptop for a Smirnoff IV.

ME-AT-17: I own a laptop?! *swoons*

ME: Yeah, don't get too excited, dumbass. It's possessed by Satan and wants to eat your brain while you sleep. Oh, by the way, you're an extraordinarily cheap drunk.

ME-AT-17: Is that a bad thing?

ME: Trust me, when you see the job you're working at 26, you'll be grateful a twenty-four-ounce is all it takes to make you swoony. Oh, yeah, and grow out your hair, never get any credit cards, and major in criminology. And if you meet any sexy blond British guys in college, have sex with them immediately. Even if it's in full view of the entire student exchange contingent. You'll thank me later.