Dang, it's already February. Where's the time go?
Well, two weeks of it went to Colorado. I skied, ate a lot of ice cream, lost a filling, spent some time with the fam, including Karl & Natalie & their brainy little kidget. Went out on the town with my Uncle Mark - always entertaining. Two towns and two bars, a long dirt road, confusing amounts of beer on the house, a strangely affecting singer-songwriter and a karaoke nightmare. Just some of the highlights. I managed to stay out of trouble...this time.
Back in Portland I finally saw "Red Cliff," the new John Woo epic, starring my Ultimate Boyfriend, Tony Leung. Awesome. It's close to three hours long. The original is even longer -- two parts, like Kill Bill -- and now I want to see that, too. The chopped American version gets a little zoomy through the early history parts. Tony is perfect, of course. He's so powerful that he can't even fully be seen right away; the camera has to sneak up on him, stealing glances at an ear, an eyelash, a feather he's wielding. Tony's kung fu is pretty strong, but mainly he is honorable. And romantic. And sad. The turtle formation will blow your mind. Bonus: arrow-cam. Also starring is Cop 223, very handsome as well.
Friday night I finally caught "Where the Wild Things Are." It was sweet, and the kid who plays Max is adorable, as is the big furry James Gandolfini, but I wish all the other wild things didn't sound so much like, I dunno, Claire Danes? or teenage Portland emo kids or something. If you want a stuffed-animal movie that kicks phenomenal amounts of ass, I recommend again "The Fantastic Mr Fox." And I guess I can see how, in the very broadest possible conception of the universe, Dave Eggers and Wes Anderson are related, but -- not to me.
Anyway, "The Fantastic Mr Fox" is the first movie I've ever wanted to do an interpretive motorcycle-ride version of. If that says anything.
Speaking of motorcycles, some of my pals from the 555 (Thor, Germ and T-Bag) put on a wildly successful moto-art-show event the other weekend. Photos coming. I spent most of it huffing gas in a small engine lab, dressed in a huge orange jumpsuit and trying to appear helpful while several of my very favorite men tore into the guts of my dead SL175. It pretty much ruled. Now I'm busily hunting an apartment with a garage, so I can do that every Saturday night.