I can't wait til my bangs grow out. Bangs are pretty but pretty high maintenance and pretty hard to grow out once you grow tired of them.
I should be doing my psych written assignment, given that tonight we're celebrating Kyle's birthday and tomorrow I work 8 am then film summore b-roll of Kim working at Shoppers, then off to Edit Suite 3 downtown to download all our footage and secure it in the vault. Hopefully which can all be achieved in time for me to come home and watch the Oscars. I think I'm looking forward to it so because for once I've watched almost all competing films.
I'm rooting for The Hurt Locker, maybe because it was a riveting movie with a good plot and stellar audio (I like sounds whadda you want from me), maybe because Jeremy Renner was a hot piece of machismo ass in a bombsuit (I like guys in uniform whadda you want from me).
Either way, it's up against the likes of Avatar, which was all fine and dandy with the Na'vis, but lacked emotional attachment. The only thing I remotely felt was a hard-on for Sam Worthington's Aussie accent. And the Na'vi sex scene? A 5-second clip of her spread-eagling his lap. That is all. No compassion.
It's almost a month until I fly down to LA for my cousin Larry's wedding. Robert just might be coming with, keeping my fingers crossed. We applied for his passport yesterday morning, then headed downtown to grab the Edit Suite key for myself later this weekend.
We grabbed a matinee movie, Shutter Island, good twist. Leonardo is just too fine in a fedora, sigh. Hear that? That's the sound of me, along with thousands of other chicks out there, throwing myself at the feet of Leonardo DiCaprio screaming "take me!"
Embarassing. I've been nursing this crush since Titanic (I was 7 years old. 7!).
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