Hungry Ghost's Daily Diet (TM)

Heads off, Matthiola looks so much better.

Too many late nights this weekend, it's a reboot Monday wherein I'm going to work, collect some reading material and go somewhere quiet to read and scheme plan. The LOI is in, B4 is booked and I'm set. More or less. Just have to broker a meeting now and avoid micromanagement.

Saw a somewhat fuzzy and badly-lit movie on Friday. Swiss-HKG co production at the Queer Film Festival on Friday. The two Js were there and we got strung up in one of the J's webs, but it was easy enough to break through it. I pretended I didn't understand English very well, and that I was FOB and they averted their eyes from my messy appearance, and J blushed profusely. The film? It wasn't bad, but it wasn't the greatest I've seen either. The audience seemed to like it, but I think perhaps they were just being supportive. You know it's just going to end in tears when the opening shot is of someone flat on his back with spilt milk flowing from the back of his head. Ah well, no need to cry over spilt milk. You wipe up (very thoroughly or else the place smells sour for days) and move on. Oh yes, and look for moths and birds too. Yes, I'm being cynical and jaded. It's all the fault of Dr. C for agreeing so readily to be bitter, cynical and jaded culture vultures. Such a bad influence. Tsk. Tsk.

Then on Saturday night, dinner with T at Taki's before joining Julia and Julie, where Meryl Streep channels Julia Child and Amy Adams plays Julie Powell. Was good for a laugh although we were left wondering how they made Meryl so tall and big. Stanley Tucci was in the movie too and he was fun as always. Paris was lovely as usual, Queens, not so much. Butter everywhere. Speaking of which, melted butter, fresh juicy tomatoes and cream make for a wonderful soup. Like drinking oil. Yummy. It's August now and so the tomatoes are running amok in the markets - so many red orbs bouncing around. Simply have to cook them down and hate at them with a fork to get the juices running.

The first film about Ireland I saw was Hear My Song with Adrian Dunbar in it about Josef Locke returning to England for a clandestine concert to woo the woman he left behind. Two memorable scenes that I still remember. In the first, the memory span of a goldfish is used to win someone's heart, and the in the second there was a cow, a long chain, a big stone and a well used to wonderful effect. Then last night, I watched a second film about Ireland, but directed by a Canadian, Fifty Dead Men Walking, a thriller based very loosely on the life of Martin McGartland who was a mole in the IRA during the troubles in the 80s. It was harrowing, and there were some truly horrible torture scenes and the things that were went on between the IRA, the Brits and the Unionists was inhumane. Two very different movies - the first was set in Dublin (part of it) and the other in Belfast, but both movies captured the essence of the Irish's resilience, good humour and general happy-go-lucky attitude towards life, and their loyalty to family and friends. Jim Sturgess and Ben Kingsley were in the latter and both were excellent. I first saw Mr. Sturgess in Across the Universe and thought that he was pretty good, but a lightweight. I recant that now.

Japanese Maple Tree runs. No, nothing to do with Canada, or Japan for that matter. On my last few runs, I've been stopping chaque fois I see a Japanese maple with seed pods hanging off its branches. Then I scrutinize the ground beneath the tree to look for treelets with the intent of marking the spot with an X a la Ali Baba, then coming back later in the night to dig up treelet to replace the one on my deck which died over the winter. Clever no? Also gives me a chance to rest my lungs and ankle too. Well. This weekend, I was clearing up the pots and such, and decided to work on the Mexican Silver Grass and what should I see but a maple sapling poking its head out of the mass of dead grass. It's green to be sure, but I'm not fussy - so I dug it out and gave it its own pot and am keeping my fingers crossed that it takes. But I still want a red one and will keep looking. I'm not paying 75.00 for a growing maple when I can dig one out of public land. Or propogate my own.

Definitely no Palm Pre for a while. The level IIs have been viciously swept off the table in one swell foop. Foop! FooP! FOOOP! Feh. I think I'll go work to rule now. Then again, maybe I should get the Palm Pre as a consolation instead of a celebration.