Netflix

I am... in love! With Netflix, that is. It's quite a deal, really. $9.99 a month for unlimited movies, mailed to your house (so your lazy ass doesn't have to go to the overpriced video store and have to talk to the creepy, flirting, cross-eyed guy in the Bailey's Crossroads store). You watch it, return it in a nifty, postage-paid envelope, and the next movie in your "queue" shows up in a few days. It's brilliant, I tell you!

My first movie? Finding Neverland. I watched it tonight and cried, cried, and cried some more. And then I sobbed. Now, I don't want to give the impression that it's a horribly sad movie, it's not --- if you know me at all, you are quite aware that I cry at everything (for example, besides obvious cry-fests like Wuthering Heights and Love Story, I cry at Disney films, commercials, and most well-written books. My most recent tear-jerker was, of all movies, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - which makes NO SENSE, because it's happy, strange, and NOT SAD. But my brain starts wandering to the old film and how equally magical the new film was and how fabulous it must have been to make and blah blah blah). Annnnnnnyway, Finding Neverland was WONDERFUL and magical, thoughtfully inspired, and beautifully acted. I hate the stupid Oscar voters sometimes - it seems that they ignore the sentimental films and go right for the weirdos. That's fine and all, but when something like this is so overlooked, it's hard to imagine if the Oscar voters HAVE HEARTS AT ALL.

Heh. Hehe. Sorry.

And the next film in my "queue" (hee! British terms are fun!) is Garden State --- a movie that I had planned on seeing and even bought its sundtrack. So I just have to walk my lazy ass to the mailbox and drop this one into its depths. Before long... ZACH BRAFF!