Pulling feathers
I am an unabashed holiday junkie, but even I can admit there's something refreshing and peaceful about January. I miss the twinkling lights, but I like the fresh calendar; everyone hibernates and bar invitations dwindle and people stop bringing chocolates and cookies everywhere. It's a nice type of newness. I had a most excellent holiday. I went down to south Jersey; thanks to the epic snowstorm, I was stuck in a warm, festive, food- and drink- and love-filled house with my amazing family, including my 18-month old niece, who is just a cup-runneth-over sort of gal (that is to say, every time she laughs, every time she gestures for me to hold her hand, every time she snuggles in to me as I play her the videos I took of her on my Flip cam, my cup runneth over). And then I went back to my office, which was incredibly productive (two full days without a single meeting = checking lots of things off my to-do!), and then rang in the new year with some best friends, dirty martinis, and a Just Dance competition. (I am purposely trying not to count the number of shots I did that night, because it is terrifyingly high.)
This afternoon I finally caved and saw Black Swan. Before I talk about it, I need to talk about the single best movie trailer I have seen this year (perhaps apart from HP7 for emotional reasons, but definitely better than the Red Riding Hood trailer, which until now was my favorite...although it's a new year, so I suppose it's irrelevant to rank them? Anyway.): it was Sucker Punch.
I love movie trailers (sometimes more than movies themselves) and they're pretty consistently my favorite part of the movie theater experience. And earlier today, Sucker Punch, well, it sucker punched me in the gut. We all know I'm not a huge fantasy/para fan, but oh. my. goddess., this was an incredibly well-done trailer. Is it weird to say that I was close to tears during it? Because I was. It just hit me in the right place at the right time (I'm in the middle of a new manuscript and I really dig it, but I'm toying with an entirely new idea that is far out of my comfort zone, and this was completely inspiring), so I'm now watching it on repeat, pretty much. Here you go, and you're welcome.
Back to Black Swan: fabulous. Other adjectives that mean fabulous. We went to the grocery store afterward (which, big mistake, Sunday evening shopping -- the shelves are empty and the lines are long) and I felt erratic and twitchy as I tried to find the whole wheat pasta, pulling feathers from my down coat (what the hell, Michael Kors? Why does your expensive down coat prick me so much!?) and wondering if I, too, was suffering a mental breakdown.
I am relieved to say I was not. However, I still have no idea what the hell happened in that movie. And I loved it anyway.