Yesterday I sneaked Vietnamese sandwiches into the theatre and ate my chicken baguette while watching Vicky Cristina Barcelona. I liked how the movie transported me to Spain for a couple of hours. The stereotypes are accurate, the screenwriting is self-conscious and witty, the acting is quite good. Penelope Cruz makes a beautiful krazy woman and I thought the genius of the movie was in showing a variety of worldviews and being equally convincing. It was a lot of fun. I recommend it.
This morning I dragged myself out of sleep (I dreamt about getting into UCSD's master's in English program and wandering around the campus, wondering if I should go to law school or med school) and went to go check out J. and I's new apartment two buildings over. It's a two story townhouse style flat on the 3rd and 4th floor of the building. There is east light in the 2 bedrooms and living room. There's an entryway, a separate dining area, a counter begging for barstools. Not too shabby for campus housing. I felt so grown up. I think that's why I started acting out like a five year old. We signed the lease, made it official. He's moving in this week.
Feel what you feel, said Farzy of Yoga House. I'm going to do that because I'm still in shock that I'm actually going to be living in the OC, the freaking orange curtain. This man really must be something else.
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