the best parts: Finding Neverland

Johnny Depp is almost, but not quite, as pretty as Julianne Moore, and he shares her talent for filling the quiet spaces between words with great moments of acting. He is in peak form playing J.M. Barrie, creator of Peter Pan, in FINDING NEVERLAND. Unlike many of Depp's other roles as a Circus Freak with a Heart of Gold, this story concerns a stagnating writer who finds inspiration in the ample bosom of Kate Winslet and goes on to create an enduring classic. I am not ashamed to admit that I was envious... only in my version, I would find inspiration on the nicely hairy pecs of Jude Law. Depp plays the stoic man-child well. Depp plays well with children. Some of the children are pretty good, too. Winslet does the femme fatale thing in a very dignified manner.

the best parts: being blown away by that Peter kid (Freddie Highmore -- soon to be seen in CHARLIE AND THE CHOCOLATE FACTORY); the backyard performance of Peter Pan; Winslet making me cry; the increasing respectability of Depp; the handsome bitchiness of Julie Christie; It's just a good story -- Hollywood used to do a lot of those.

All about Low Maintenance

So I posted an update to my website telling my adoring fans that I have abandoned the arduous task of updating that page for this quiet little spot on Blogger. I'm all about low maintenance -- that's my credo for 2005. If the lawn needs mowing, get a lawn boy! This cutie pie is plum tuckered... managing two departments at the premiere Crate & Barrel in the Northwest is a lot of work during the holidays, and, frankly, I don't need the extra cheese on my burger. My plate is full. No more. Blogger is easy-peasy pudding pie. Love it.

One can only hope that my adoring fans are bright enough to follow the like I provided for them. In the past, there have been... shall we say... disappointments. Not to worry. They will come.

Next on my list: mail Christmas packages to NYC; finish Christmas cards; see Christmas movies; write movie reviews.

An inch from my toes

Sometimes, I write offline. Yes, it's true. I take pen and paper and write the old fashioned way. There are days when all I can muster is a Judy Blume diary entry. On better days, a coherent editorial rant emerges... or maybe a quick character study. The entry below falls somewhere between the two. The precipitating event was a brief walk from the store where I work to lunch across the street. I was nearly run over by a dreaded, oil-sucking, SUV/minivan type thing. The driver scared the shit ouf of me, and then I just got pissed... She'll get hers, don't you worry.

Yeah, I know, it's a pretty minor event, and I don't know why I feel the need to share it. Just read my bio - I have a thing about seeing my name in a by-line.
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"Bitch, you're supposed to stop! Roll over the line in front of me, will you? Had you revved your engine a little harder and a little later, I'd have gold paint smeared across my blood-stained jacket and I'd be chewing your tires furiously before they crushed my skull.

"Watch where you're going next time, you pill-drained, vodka-soaked bottle blonde. Just because your life isn't as fabulous as your "Special Edition" bright and shiny minivan, don't expect any sympathy from me. My life sucks knowing you almost ran me over. I survived by the grace of a callous god who let you escape with your bad fortune and good taste in tact. Chances are, you will sleep it off in front of the television -- Ellen and Oprah will pass you by, but perhaps you will catch the end of a Very Special Dr. Phil just in time to see a room full of overprivileged, undersexed housefraus lamenting their own unsatisfying minivan lives. You will weep empathetically, "Thank you, God! I am not alone!"

"But you will remember nothing of me. The near miss that impacted my day will be lost in the haze of an afternoon. I'll remember, though. How can I forget?"

Pillow talk

I begin again. To begin the beguine, whatever that means, cha cha cha. I had... no, I *have* a website perfectly able to accept my own posts, but I haven't touched it for months. Writing and formatting and rearranging and archiving my old posts was just too much for my weak soul. I was crushed into silence and I take my own silence personally. It's a damned good looking site, too. I may share it with some of you someday. Right now, it's just taking up some digital space on Earthlink's servers.

So here I am, fluffing a pillow on my own blogspot and crawling under the covers with that short story or article or essay or movie review I haven't written yet. That's all I need -- to get comfortable with my writing again (aGAIN). Comfy and cozy.

Poke me if I start snoring.