Smell that? I showered. Just for you!
Man, have I got this Week of Christmas thing down. The mood was definitely set with a hike through Weedon Island Preserve. Then I spent Christmas Eve prepping for Christmas Day Treat (taking myself to a movie I know I’ll enjoy, but most people in my life would never join me to watch. Last year was Django Unchained. This year, 47 Ronin.) The prep work included Sonny Chiba’s awesome face in Street Fighter and Return of Street Fighter, then Ip Man, with the intention to watch Ip Man 2 but Netflix was not cooperating, so I put in The Matrix (martial arts + Keanu Reeves).
As I sat there in the theatre, watching this PG-13 film interpretation of a famous Japanese play with, thankfully, Keanu Reeves getting treated like a dog the entire time, I had an urge to write. This is good; I haven’t had anything fresh on the mind with I Blew Up Juarez in the production hopper. My inner dialogue went like such: “I could write something like this. I could do something modern day, a la Jim Jarmusch’s ‘Ghost Dog.’ I can interpret the concepts of honor and loyalty in modern times. I could write a samurai story. I should write a 21st century samurai story.”
Something to look forward to in 2014.
Last Christmas I was admittingly lonely, but this year, my dance card was being filled for me. My supposedly 4G network downloaded messages of well wishes from all over and invites to Christmas dinners as I left the theatre. Instead of my after-movie single drink at the bar routine, I made my way north, and enjoyed a delightful evening with wonderful company. Once home, I engaged in a necessary conversation which confirmed my occupation of someone’s heart. Netflix rewarded the achievement with a functioning Ip Man 2.
The Day After, I decided to do something my brother and sister were really good at as kids; lay on the couch and watch TV from morning to bedtime. Other than the occassional dog duty, I lay on the chaise and watched all Season 5 of Misfits, then refreshed my memory with Season 3 of Absolutely Fabulous. It was interesting respite, but I was up and in the gym this morning, feeling guilty for indulging in sloth!
And because the Universe loves to emphasize a life well lived, these songs played back to back as I trotted on the treadmill:
This is the life! Looking forward to New Year’s Eve. Something tells me PJs, a bottle of Cava, and Disney movies should suffice…