I bought red things.

[fflo]

Not everything. Not the trash bags, which were why I went to the store. But when I got home I saw that just about everything else, all the stuff I just picked out there, was red.

Ever see that "Twilight Zone" with the soldier who can tell who's about to die? He looks in their faces and sees something, produced by some early-'60s TV effect I can't remember, and then next battle they come to cease to exist? And then one day he looks in a mirror and sees it on his own face? I think about that episode surprisingly often, considering I probably saw it only once.

There was this gray look on my father's face the last few times I saw him before he died.

Locked myself in with the kittens tonight, having rounded them up to put them to bed. Doorknob fell off. Was barefoot, so jumping out the window seemed a bad idea, not to mention it'd be no easy feat then to close the screen back & keep the kitties from following. Didn't have my phone with me. Eventually finessed the door, with the help of items from the closet of many mismatched things. By then the kittens had dozed off.

Can't say it was a good day.

Saw the rest of Transamerica.

Comments

[fflo.livejournal.com]

The "I want you" one is said by the awkward/bumbling Harold Crick in the movie Stranger Than Fiction. I celebrated the line a while ago here, I'm pretty sure. When the movie came out & I was all freshly gaga for it.

Lately I think of that film mainly when pouring more and more coffee into (through) my body, à la the Dustin Hoffman character. I like that running gag, over-the-top & all.

Not too long ago I caught myself having made reference to Cal, by just that given name, while talking to somebody or another about baseball, but whoever it was was neither a Baltimoron nor known to me to be particularly a baseball person. Cal's more famous now than in '95, though, nationally, wouldn't you say? After "the streak" turned into the record, when he retired, and they had all that hoopla? Or don't you know what I'm talking about about "the streak"?

I am, however, far enough removed from those days as to feel no longer (alas!) an unconscious pull to shout "OH!" at that one place in the nat'l anthem. I feel a conscious pull to do so, but that's not the same fine thing, is it. I don't have my mouth open and breath drawn in and head back a little and sound starting to come out before I remember where I am. Or am not, as the case may be.

Transamerica was okay. Reckon I can give it 3 stars at Netflix in good conscience.