I read this quote by Robert Harris just now:
It is perfectly legitimate to write novels which are essentially prose poems, but in the end, I think, a novel is like a car, and if you buy a car and grow flowers in it, you’re forgetting that the car is designed to take you somewhere else.
I like cars with flowers in them. But I’d like to write a starship with fireworks inside instead. I guess I don’t really care if it goes anywhere.
Tonight we went to a sneak preview of Mean Girls. It was pretty amusing, and I think I actually enjoyed it more than The Whole Ten Yards, which Nate and I watched last night. It was your above-average teen coming-of-age chick flick.
Apparently the source of most of our tickets is now quitting his job, and we’ll be left without all these free movies in a few weeks. This is quite disturbing, and I almost went up to the Paramount rep. after the movie tonight begging him to take me under his wing or something. In the last few weeks we’ve gone to see Mean Girls, The Whole Ten Yards, Ella Enchanted, Hellboy, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, and I’m sure there are others that I’m forgetting about.
I’m at a coffee shop with Jason right now. Ahhh the mirracle of technolgy.