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Apr. 21st, 2003 11:48 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
quidditchgrrlEaster. meh. Yes, m-e-h, meh. I didn't go to church (I've already had my annual trip to church), and I'm not really fond of any of the Easter sentiment anyway.
So, meh. Went to my sister's house and ate all of the typical Easter food. Have realized that my father is now beginning that slow regression to childhood (he's almost 70). Mal called him Friday to check where he would be for Easter. 'I'll call you back,' he says. No call. I cancel my plans to go out of town with Honeybunch. Sunday call to him and he's going to his girlfriend's daughter's house. Fine. Might want to call and let us know before we plan a big dinner for you, that's all. 'Well, I can come over in the evening if you want,' is his reply. Er, no, we all have to work Monday.
He's turned into a teenager - you have to ride his ass to get him to do anything, commit to anything, then stand there and watch while he does it to be sure that he doesn't get distracted and wander away! This would be funny if it wasn't my dad, or if there was some organic reason (like Alzheimer's or a stroke) for his behavior. Will tell you all the stripper story when I feel up to it.
Otherwise, Mal and I trolled around looking for open stores to shop in. Have picked out new dishes, but woe! - Target was closed. Fielded acerbic glances from clerks at World Market who really wanted to be home (not that I blame them at all). Watched Far From Heaven, which was...
a really, really, not-so-good movie. Dealing with homosexuality and racism in early 1950s America are big subjects to tackle on film, and this movie proves that you really shouldn't attempt to do justice to both within the same 2 hour period, and try to make a judgement call on 50s middle-class America at the same time. It was choppy and it just sort of washed back and forth between the two issues. Through the middle I forgot that poor ol' Frank was even in the movie, they left him so long. And was it just me or did that bruise linger forever on her face? Maybe that was symbolic of her two 'sins' (having a homosexual husband and befriending a Negro). There wasn't enough in-depth analysis of Frank's guilt and wish to be 'cured'; there just wasn't enough time to cover it. By the end, I was kind of hoping for a suicide to spice things up a bit. The cinematography added to the film, but the pervasive shallowness was off-putting.
So, meh. Today should be better - I will get my plates and put down grass seed! Behold my t00by glee.
So, meh. Went to my sister's house and ate all of the typical Easter food. Have realized that my father is now beginning that slow regression to childhood (he's almost 70). Mal called him Friday to check where he would be for Easter. 'I'll call you back,' he says. No call. I cancel my plans to go out of town with Honeybunch. Sunday call to him and he's going to his girlfriend's daughter's house. Fine. Might want to call and let us know before we plan a big dinner for you, that's all. 'Well, I can come over in the evening if you want,' is his reply. Er, no, we all have to work Monday.
He's turned into a teenager - you have to ride his ass to get him to do anything, commit to anything, then stand there and watch while he does it to be sure that he doesn't get distracted and wander away! This would be funny if it wasn't my dad, or if there was some organic reason (like Alzheimer's or a stroke) for his behavior. Will tell you all the stripper story when I feel up to it.
Otherwise, Mal and I trolled around looking for open stores to shop in. Have picked out new dishes, but woe! - Target was closed. Fielded acerbic glances from clerks at World Market who really wanted to be home (not that I blame them at all). Watched Far From Heaven, which was...
a really, really, not-so-good movie. Dealing with homosexuality and racism in early 1950s America are big subjects to tackle on film, and this movie proves that you really shouldn't attempt to do justice to both within the same 2 hour period, and try to make a judgement call on 50s middle-class America at the same time. It was choppy and it just sort of washed back and forth between the two issues. Through the middle I forgot that poor ol' Frank was even in the movie, they left him so long. And was it just me or did that bruise linger forever on her face? Maybe that was symbolic of her two 'sins' (having a homosexual husband and befriending a Negro). There wasn't enough in-depth analysis of Frank's guilt and wish to be 'cured'; there just wasn't enough time to cover it. By the end, I was kind of hoping for a suicide to spice things up a bit. The cinematography added to the film, but the pervasive shallowness was off-putting.
So, meh. Today should be better - I will get my plates and put down grass seed! Behold my t00by glee.
