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McGregor, Allen and Dali Well, I was certainly preachy yesterday wasn't I? It almost seemed as though I should be shouting down from a mountain with two stone tablets raised over my head. Ah, its just another side of me that surfaces from time to time. The end of my work week had a few extra perks. They like to bring in food to eat on Saturday night which is kind of nice. Nothing beats eating some chili at two in the morning with some banana bars for dessert. I decided to stay awake today rather than going to sleep at noon. I thought that I might as well get as much of my weekend as possible. However when noon arrived I could feel my body slowing shutting down. My body is definitely on a third shift schedule and deviations from that schedule are awkward. I was awake, but everything seemed different. The harsh light of the sun made my living room seem less inviting than at night. It felt hollow and sad. The main reason that I rented The Butcher Boy was to see Sinead O'Connor as the Virgin Mary. I know that its a very superficial thing, but its still very odd to see her with hair. Then to see her in a religious context was even more striking. So I not only got my fill of Irish accents, but I got to see Sinead in a new light. Most of the evening was spent reading the latest issue of Vanity Fair. Highlights so far include Ewan McGregor talking about being Obi-wan Kenobi, Woody Allen's hostile attitude toward women in his films and the sad relationship of Salvador Dali and Gala, his domineering wife.
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