grrgoyl

My beauty, my precioussssssss has arrived. I would take a picture of it but it looks pretty much like it does on the on the internet. It's sleek and sexy, with pretty lights and noises. Camera, FM radio, calculator, calendar, alarm clock...it won't be long before I will come to rely on this baby for every modern convenience from now on. All I'm missing is a karaoke machine and a rape horn (and an mp3 player, which some other phones actually offer nowadays, but they didn't get such good reviews).

I feel like absolutely the biggest hypocrite in the whole world. For years I have had nothing but disdain for cellphone users. Walking around like they're all that, carrying on their stupid, pointless conversations, adding more noise to an already too noisy world. Now it's my turn to be all that. Besides, have you tried finding a payphone lately? They're definitely on the way out, which is just as well, as I never have change anyway. Now when I'm grocery shopping and my mind goes blank on what I stopped for (which happens more often than I care to admit), Tery will be just three keystrokes away. Dinner disaster averted! I feel so hip talking on it, freed from the ties of my cordless phone that could never reach all the way to the mailbox (which, let's face it, is as close as I come to leaving the house 85% of the time). Like I said earlier, the main draw was having a camera handy. It doesn't take the greatest pictures, but my real camera sure doesn't fit in a lambskin swivel holster on my belt. My overriding rationale is that it's free, and that's good enough for me. If it works out and we can get rid of our landline, our monthly phone bill would be cut in half. A cellphone makes good financial sense right now. But I could still give it back tomorrow if I had to. Honestly.

Besides, I've already wasted a ludicrous amount of time scouring the internet for the perfect ringtone that tells the world who I am in 10 notes or less. What an agonizing decision. How do people live with the stress? Most of the tones I found are pretty useless. They start at the beginning of the song, taking their own sweet time getting to the more recognizable chorus. I can't foresee ever letting my phone ring long enough to get that far. I originally set out in search of "Jerk it Out" by The Caesars (the first iPod commercial theme). The beginning would be a kick-ass ring, so naturally every file I found skipped right to the chorus. Work with me, people. I abandoned that when I discovered the Buffy theme. THIS is da shit. Same with the Angel theme. Hours and hours later I finally stepped away from the computer after finding an equally awesome Rage Against the Machine tone (the piece at the end of The Matrix. Yes, it's repetitive and vaguely Chinese water torturish, but instantly recognizable). I was so excited about this one that I played it for Tery, who commented in the least enthused, yet most supportive tone she could muster, "That's pretty good, hunny." Other cool ones that were passed up were the Monty Python theme and The Final Countdown (aka G.O.B.'s theme...I can't be bursting into fits of laughter every time my phone rings). Please god let me be able to transfer these with the cable I found on eBay. I really don't want to pay $2 a pop to get my phone just the way I want it. I guess they figure if you can afford a cellphone, you've got money to burn on stupid things like ringtones. Rumor has it the phone supports mp3 tones too. There are some tracks on my new Depeche Mode CD that would be great, in all their synthesized glory. I hear ringtones everywhere I turn these days.

I don't even know myself anymore.

When I started reading through the welcome packet, chapter one included an enormous list of all the info I would need when I called to activate the phone, a 15-20 minute process. I despise talking on the phone so much that I dreaded making this call. Don't think the irony of this is lost on me. Fortunately LetsTalk.com had already pre-activated the phone for me. I just had to turn it on and start dialing. I ♥ them for this.

And I really hope this love affair lasts, because I just got a buttload of accessories off eBay to keep my precioussssss company. Because what's the good of a shiny new toy without the "sold separately" accoutrements?

Tery went out last night with Tabby and Ryan. I stayed home and watched the Saw commentary. Oh, yes, I ran out and bought this as soon as I learned of its existence. I couldn't possibly be expected to resist this brilliant marketing:



There's a bladder with "blood" on the front cover (at least, I'm hoping it's "blood" and not...blood). This cover is rivalled perhaps only by the Evil Dead Special Edition, bound in "human skin." I don't own that one, not for lack of those marketing bastards preying on my senses just as hard as they can.

The extra gore promised was barely noticeable, but the extras on this version are a lot juicier. I'm mightily excited about the sequel.

The POINT is when Tery got home all she could talk about was how all Ryan could talk about was me. How much he loved me and couldn't wait to hang out again. I've met this guy ONCE. I refuse to believe I am THAT charming. I told Tery I was sorry that my milkshake brings all the boys to the yard (even the gay ones). She explained that he's a "dyke hag," which I didn't even know existed (the fact that I'm not a dyke notwithstanding). She called them to let them know she made it home okay and put me on the phone with him. I was really out of it (I've been getting up at 4 a.m. every day this week), but remember clearly the part where he told me he loved me, followed by a nervous (adorable) little giggle. He wanted to be the first person I called when I got my precioussssss (sorry, baby. It had to be my sister). I invited him to Halloween tomorrow night, but he went and invited all his coworkers to his parents' house in the mountains this weekend. Poor guy wants desperately to cancel on them to be with me us, but he can't. I promised I would take lots of pictures of the evening for him (and for this journal).

I wanted to invite him to the movies on Sunday, but Tabby informs me that Sunday is Broncos day, so that's right out. Guess I'll just go see Serenity alone (I doubt he would have been up for that movie anyway). (Yes, I finished Disc 4 of Firefly. So much promise, so much potential. I really love these characters. Maybe it will be like Star Trek and spawn countless film sequels.) Speaking of Tabby, we made up today, but I still anticipate a lengthy conversation tomorrow night. I think it will be good for both of us.

I am resisting the urge to read too many reviews of this before writing my own. I want to get it down while my impressions are pure. I already read The Filthy Critic's review and all I can say is I truly pity him for being too jaded and bored to ever be scared again.

What we actually saw was a bootleg from a coworker, my first experience watching a new theatrical release under the comfort of my own quilt. I expected heads in the way and a shaky handheld picture, but apart from the occasional coughing or fiddling with the equipment it was easy to forget the fact. But consequently the picture wasn't the best and any scene that wasn't well-lit was murky and extremely difficult to see. Or perhaps it was like that in the theater too. But this included the very first (and apparently marginally important) scene.

First off, I'm not saying the film is derivative, but it IS very Se7en/Silence of the Lambs/Cube/Nine Inch Nails video....ish. Which is good, because I like all those things. The story gets a bit convoluted and I definitely plan to watch a second time to see if it all makes sense or not. It would have helped to know at the time when we were watching a flashback and when we weren't, but then the director risks insulting our intelligence if he made it too obvious. The creepy factor is high with some unforgettable images that had me covering my mouth more than once (I'm not an eye-coverer, more a mouth-coverer. Don't ask me why). There's gore aplenty, but in a psychological terror context more than a gratuitous senselessly-slaughtering-coeds-for-a-high-body-count context. The plot slowly unwinds towards a fastpaced climax that I totally didn't see coming...neither did Tery, which automatically gives the movie a bonus 10 points. I think this is one of two movies where she didn't smugly guess the ending within minutes of the opening credits. I really hate people who do that. ( ::the first tiny spoiler:: ) It is also one of only two movies where I was scared enough to get up and lock the door on our third floor balcony. The other was The Relic (give me a break. I was much younger and less desensitized then). By the end my whole body was vibrating from being on the edge of my seat so long.

One of the biggest complaints about the movie seems to be the acting, with especially poor Cary Elwes being held under a harshly critical spotlight. Sure, it wasn't an Oscar-winning performance, but I don't recall him having very many meaty, dramatic roles to compare to. The Princess Bride, while excellent, was certainly no Citizen Kane, and although he was adorable as Rupert Everett's schoolboy lover in Another Country, he wasn't given a lot to do except snog and, well, look adorable. Sir Laurence Olivier he is not. Additionally, I'm no expert on acting school but I don't think the classes cover such unusually traumatic scenarios ( ::second small spoiler:: ) so in that respect I think he did just fine. Danny Glover, another actor who is okay I guess but I don't necessarily expect big things from, wasn't given a whole lot to do. His flashbacks were what confused me the most( ::another small spoiler:: ).

I am sure if a second viewing doesn't hold up to logic I would have more problems with this movie, but at this writing my only beef is the fact that these guys, chained on opposite sides of what looks like an enormous, industrial bathroom (with only one toilet though) toss a lot of objects back and forth over the dead guy in the middle, and nothing ever lands in the massive pool of blood. This includes photos, and we all know how easy it is to throw small pieces of paper with any accuracy or distance. Wait a minute, I DO have one...and I guess it is mildly centered around Elwes' acting. His incentive in the killer's game is to save his family from being murdered if he doesn't participate. The problem is that based on the 5 minutes of screen time given to his interaction with them, I found it kind of hard to accept that he would be willing to pay the asking price, and Elwes' sudden ramping-up of emotion seemed to come almost from nowhere. This could have been solved by giving his wife and daughter a bit more presence, I think.

This definitely requires a second viewing, preferably a more commercially-available copy (with lots and lots of extras). I also tend to think this should have been my post-election blues movie solution rather than The Incredibles, as it was way more effective at helping me forget my own troubles. 4.5 out of 5.

On an unrelated note, the Discovery Channel has an extreme plastic surgery series with eye-catching titles guaranteed to make you put down the remote, like "Face-Eating Tumor" and last night's "Trash Can Full of Skin." Pretty brilliant, if you ask me.