I Deal With Film on a Day to Day Basis…and I’m Pretty Good at It

I sincerely doubt I could say I’ve mastered my role as a writer without having to have somebody slap me, but I can say this: I think I’ve at least figured out the gist of the job. For me, the column-writing process runs something like this:

Sit at keyboard, open word processor. Stare at screen. Pick at toenail. Repeat.

Inspiration will strike, and I’ll end up writing something like this:

“Sarah Jessica Parker’s face looks like a foot.”

As I’m contemplating the concept of “hairy,” I realize that I just made an involuntary reference to an episode of Family Guy, and I have to delete it. Eventually, though, I manage to think of some new angle to take, or some annoying part of the film to rant about, and, 800 words (and usually about twenty minutes) later, I have a review.

But, that doesn’t seem to be the case this time. I’ve never found myself so confused over my take on a movie as I am now. Allow me to elaborate.

Class with the Mayor

Classes began today, and I came to discover that my horseback riding class is taught by none other than the mayor of our tiny college town.

I thought the whole thing rather surreal, to be quite honest. I suppose I’ll have to make sure that I don’t hassle any civic officials (i.e. get pulled over), lest I get assigned the “troublesome” horse for the semester.

By the way, the biggest horse on the ranch here measures 17.5 hands, and happens to be 2″ taller than the infamous Secretariat was.

I’m-a quiverin’ in my boots.

Well, not really. But I needed a snappy ending.

Unprecendented Hilarity

Despite the seemingly unsurmountable challenges that await me (namely, having to wait almost two weeks for a steady income), a beacon of hope shines on for all of us.

And that would a kickin’ rad apartment:

Pictured above is the roommate with a 20-foot banner acquired from McDonald’s.

This year is going to rock.

And Now, the End is Near…

Ick.

In less than many hours which I can’t seem to count, I will be packed up and gone from what I have come to affectionately refer to as “Aslan’s country,” my dear Asheville. Besides, the actual nickname for the place is “Land of the Sky,” which, and I think you’ll agree, is actually kind of lame. One would imagine that a land of the sky would be a good deal less humid.

Anyway, packing, yes.

Rules of the Road- er, Floor

For anyone who goes to school with me, you’ll know I’m now entering a veritable minefield. Today’s subject is: dancing.