Current location:	Home
Current mood:	hyper
Current music:	"Ghost in the Shell" on teevee
Entry tags:	da vinci code, the devil wears prada, world cup, zinedine zidane

Caffeine
One thing I've learned about myself is that when I have any Starbucks coffee product in the evening, it keeps me awake late into the night.  So the Caramel Frappuccino I had earlier is why I'm so wide awake now.  It really doesn't take too much caffeine to get me going.  Savvy?

No, I haven't seen Pirates of the Caribbean yet.  Or Superman for that matter.  But I have seen The Devil Wears Prada.  It was a good thing that I asked out of work early last Saturday.  Just minutes after leaving the job, a friend of my "texted" me and asked me if I wanted to see a movie?   Great timing.  So we went to see The Devil Wears Prada at the Union Square Theater.  I highly recommend seeing it.  It's a sharp-witted, sharply written, very well acted, and very entertaining movie.  All the good buzz you've heard about Meryl Streep's performance as Miranda Priestly is deserved.  She's wonderful.  Anne Hathaway holds her own as the severely bent but not broken, Andy.  And Emily Blunt is wonderful as, well, Emily.  Everybody's an Emily in Miranda Priestly's world.  The movie made me want to read the book.  As bad as Miranda was in the film, I didn't think of her as evil.  I have to think the book paints a much harsher picture of the real Anna Wintour.  I ended up coming away from the film with two main thoughts.  If I was Andy's age, I would be totally intimidated by Miranda.  I probably would've ended up running out of that building and never looking back and hating every single individual there.  But oh so many years later, after working with and working for, people who have embodied Miranda Priestly in different degrees of intensity, I can't say I would be so easily intimidated now.  I've had to learn how to deal with their particular brand of nastiness.  Has no one written the book, "How to cope with a Jackass" yet?  The other thought was about size.  As in clothing sizes.  I still can't get over art designer Nigel's comment  (Stanley Tucci was wonderful too).  "Size 2 is the new 4.  Zero is the new two.  Six is the new fourteen".  I literally gasped.  Now, my friend Kari is about a size 6.  And she ain't fat.  Me?  I don't think I've seen a size 6 since I was 6.  So I've had this "body image" thing to deal with for a long time.  I learned a long time ago to ignore fashion mags and advertising and what they try to sell to women.  So it came as a shock to me to feel so shocked by what a movie character says.  As much as I enjoyed the movie, I did walk out thinking that maybe now is the time to start that water diet.  Or that maybe one cube of cheese a day may be too much.  Grrrr!  I'm still surprised at myself for feeling so rattled.  And the thing is, I've heard similar stories from other people who've seen it.  Starvation diet, anyone?  

Btw, I finally got my library card.  It finally sank into my sometimes sluggish brain while I was fretting over what books to buy from Amazon.com.  Why buy when I can rent?  The first book I wanted to "rent" was "The DaVinci Code".  However, there were approx. 211 holds on the book.  211!  Forget it.  I'll go ahead and buy that one.  I did check out "Letters to Olga" by Vaclav Havel.  I hope to finish it before needing to renew.  I'm slow like that when it comes to reading.  Except for "Harry Potter" books.  

The World Cup final is tomorrow and I'm excited.  I can only get seriously excited about soccer at World Cup time.  I wish I'd seen more games live instead of taped.  I'm glad Germany won today.  Now I do believe Wayne Rooney was the author of his own tragedy.  I really think he stepped on the Portuguese player's "sensitive parts" on purpose.  And it's not Portugal's fault that England's best couldn't score worth a damn.  However, I think Portugal are a bunch of right bastards anyway and I don't like them and I'm glad they lost.  So there.     

As for the Final match--as much as I love great looking and very fit Italian men running around in tight shorts (and i do!)--I'm rooting for France.  And there's only one reason:  Zinedine Zidane.  He's been brilliant, amazing and everything you want a great player to be in the big games.  And he ain't bad looking either.  And at the ripe old age of 34 (my God, where's his walker?  get the man a wheelchair!) he's finishing his career playing the way great players should.  Can he do it for one more game?  Can he play the game of his life tomorrow?  We shall see.  I'm looking forward to it.