Since Saturday was cold and miserable (and it’s only November!) and I had a ton to do around the house, I kicked around at home for most of the day. Luckily for me, most of my chores (folding laundry, paying bills, filing papers and knitting a stocking cap for my nephew out of camouflage yarn (with which I am strangely obsessed)) could be accomplished from the comfort of the couch.
(As an aside, it’s possible I might also be strangely obsessed with paratheticals.)
So, while sitting on my couch and ignoring the north wind blowing under my front door because I refuse to turn up my heat and burn more oil, I spent the afternoon watching three Netflix movies I had stored up. I’m pretty sure that if awards were given out for “Most Eclectic Movie Selection” I would have easily won:
1. Thomas Kinkade’s Home for Christmas (It’s a Wonderful Life-lite. Imagine Jimmy Stewart in a Hallmark Channel TV-movie. Very sweet if a little syrupy, but well worth a viewing.)
2. Annie Hall (I can’t believe I never saw this before. It’s every bit as good as the hype and I’m not a huge Woody Allen fan. The scene where Alvy and Annie are carrying on an inane conversation while the subtitles show what they’re really thinking is worth the price of admission.)
3. The 40 Year Old Virgin (Really didn’t live up to the hype. It had some funny moments and it was much better than Knocked Up, but not my cup of tea. I prefer The Big Bang Theory for my dose of nerdy, action figure collectors.)
On the plus side, I stopped procrastinating and finished revising Chapter Two of the novel. I’ve also decided to enter a screenplay in this summer’s Nantucket Film Festival. My two favorite things (Nantucket and films) brought together at the same time has to be a sign, don’t you think? One teeny, tiny problem, though, is that I don’t actually have a screenplay written. But, really, if I allowed myself to get thwarted by the little details, I’d never accomplish anything.