Today, June 13, 2006, marks the last day I will ever have to step into a certain classroom. It is the last time I will ever attend the class-that-shall-not-be-named and be "taught" by she-who-shall-not-be-named. This certainly an occasion to rejoice.
A colony of ants, complete with larvae, has decided to inhabit the cold, steel interior of my mailbox. Those tiny black creepy crawlies thoroughly penetrated my mail, crawling in between the pages of Time and a hefty college viewbook. I am now officially scared to read them
Time critic Richard Schickel really likes the phrase "pretentious piffle." In his year-end wrap-ups, he's used it to describe Moulin Rouge!, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, and I Heart Huckbees. But this guy loves Wes Anderson. Huh.
While listening to the director commentary on Amores Perros a few months ago, I jotted down a random phrase that the Innaritu had mentioned, something called "I'll Be Your Mirror." Since it was noted on one of those floating post-its, it invariably got lost in the strata of my computer desk. It was recently, through my random browsing of Limewire, that I realized it was a Velvet Underground song. Been addicted to Nico's warbling ever since.
Rejoice! My cinephiliac soul has finally seen salvation. As of today, I have access to the wonderful service of Netflix. In a mere two hours, my queue has already lengthened to 50+ and is sure to increase exponentially in the next week. Movie watching will now officially take over my life.
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