post-ironic quotation marks

Slightly neurotic (but cute!) singleton looking for adventure, finical stability, and some delusion of meaning. With much thought in the topic of sincerity and the occasional film review.

Saturday, June 17, 2006

Had a conversation with the Aussie flatmate about the blog last night, as I had let it slip that I write things about the flat on the blog. He should really be more afraid about I write after I'm out of the house, considering any novel I manage to get published will have a larger readership than the blog. Okay, I'm crossing my fingers on that one. That is if I don't manage to get the article done for Modern Love. We just won't tell him.

Actually, there are now two aussies in the house, but will be called the Aussie flatmate (as previously refered to in the past) and the other will be known as the Cook, because he's a chef (yum!).

I saw Crash on Thursday night. There are reasons why I want to watch it again, mostly the cinematography was just that good, and going frame by frame would be worth the effort. However, it was a movie which made me feel extremly uncomfortable. I often feel strange watching movies about America here, as this is the face which most people often see. That and whatever the news happens to mention, and a lot of that is Pres. Bush. I feel as if I have to either apologize, or even explain that no, this is not how things are. It's always the negative ones too.

Moving on.

In Crash I saw myself in two characters, the first being the young idealistic police officer, and the second being the upper middle class LA wife, who doesn't realise how lucky she is to have a maid that does everything for her. The first is where I am now, and I'm afraid that I'll turn into the kind of woman who lives in a big home, discussing shallowly deep things, and is unable to fathom that her accomplishments are really nothing and built upon the labour of others. Its a bleak picture isn't it.


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