I've seen the best minds of my generation, destroyed by madness...yadda yadda yadda

Today I'm feeling both claustro and agora-phobic. That's good fun.
I did manage to do a little house straightening today. Messy bed-messy head, you know.
It wore me out. But I kept going. It's important to push yourself until you collapse. Builds character. Or something.
The Puppy Bowl on Animal Planet is adorable!
Go brown puppy! You tell white pointy eared puppy who's boss!
What the hell kind of person watches Puppy Bowl?
People with no life to speak of.
Stoners, the housebound and other Eleanor Rigby types. Just a guess.
Coupland doesn't seem too into it.
Maybe he's a Bears fan.
We don't talk about sports.
Anybody seen those Kleenex commercials with people talking and crying? Those are uplifting.
Speaking of uplifting. Chelsea Walls is quite possibly the most depressing movie I've seen in ages. Not cathartic weeping depressing. Just---Oh.My.God.That's.So. Fucking.Sad. Adored the movie. I highly recommend it. Ethan Hawke is actually a pretty good director. I have more respect for him after watching his "small" "artsy" stuff than I ever did from his big budget movies. Kris Kristofferson's character is slightly interesting. He's playing someone that I would say is not a big stretch, artistically, for him. It isn't him, but I bet he knows plenty of people like his character. Uma Thurman is predictably enjoyable. I never used to like her either, but recently I've decided she's fairly pleasant sometimes. Like the anti-Meg Ryan. Who's great, don't get me wrong, but there's a perkiness about her that isn't always my cuppa. Uma Thurman doesn't come off as perky. Or maybe it's that whole indie thing. No one's perky in an indie movie. It's against the law. Robert Sean Leonard plays a Minnesotan song writer with an oddly hick-ish accent. Not southern, it sounds like the accent of someone that is trying to shake the elongated vowels and nasal tones of the Mid-West. It's not pretty. (And who here would ever think I'd say anything about RSL wasn't pretty?) I notice that his intonation changed during the phone call. More natural, I think. Course, that might've just been because he was supposed to be wasted.
The cast is huge and full of people that prompt the "HEY! It's THAT guy!" exclamation. A lot of the movie is like watching a beat poem. If you hate beat poetry (and let's face it--there's a lot more to hate than there is to love) then you'll probably hate this movie. The fact that the first thing anyone sees when walking into my apartment is a poster of Jack Kerouac with a quote from Allen Ginsburg scrawled across the bottom might indicate that I'm prejudiced. I'm a pretentious, beat generation loving, free form poetry spewing, heart on my sleeve, cynical, sad, angry, loner, dreamer. It makes sense I'd enjoy a movie about the same.
But don't expect to feel good when it's over.
And don't get too attached to Terry.

Meanwhile---
The parents are in Cali. They had an eventless flight and called upon their arrival at LAX. Mum said she was famous person spotting. I told her to look out for Hugh Laurie for me.
"If I see him I'll be sure to tell him my daughter is his biggest fan."
"Oh, I'm sure I'm not. Not even close. There's a lot of people that are far more obsessed than I am."
"What would you have me say?"
"Hi, Hugh. That would be a nice start. Just act like you know him. If you're lucky, he might be very polite and British and self-effacing. Then you can say you've chatted with Hugh Laurie. Then again he might run away in fear. But that would make a good story too."
"If I saw Hugh Laurie, I'd be respectful and leave him alone."
"Oh, you're no fun anymore."
"No, I'm not."

Did I have anything else to say? I don't think so. SuperBowl Sunday kinda blows. There's nothing on TV. There's nothing on TV.
Oh really, what are you watching, then?
Puppy Bowl III. Proving my previous statement.
Maybe I'll watch a movie or read a book or write a book. Or go to sleep. Or drink heavily and chase it with cold medicine. (No, I won't do that. That's bad-mmmkay?)
Guess it's time to make dinner.
Go sports team of your choice. Kick that other team's ass. Woo.