Tonight we watched Lost in Translation, which is the first time I’ve seen it since it came out in theatres back in October 2003. Needless to say, it was just as good as it was the first time, and made me cry just as much as it did back then….that is to say, I swallowed hard rocks down my throat all through the ending, then took a shower with the intention of crying in privacy, but when the hot water hit I forgot I had come in there to cry and instead became so overwhelmed by the warmth of the water and the awareness that I had only seven minutes to enjoy it before the water heater pooped out that I forfeited the entire crying endeavor.
It’s just such a sad scene, you know? Where Bill Murray and Scarlett Johansson say goodbye in the streets of Tokyo one last time, and you know they’re both going back to unhappy marriages, and you can’t help them but you want to; specifically, you want them to help each other. But there’s no better ending — I mean, it’s realistic, ending like that –but it still makes you cry, you know what I mean?
You totally know what I mean.
Today we drove up to San Jose for J.’s ice hockey game. Lots of women slamming other women into walls. It made me want to skate. Or at least pick up a stick and smack something 70 yards across a room.
i’ve ceased being tired long ago.