Now, you are all about to think that I have completely lost my mind. I am the romantic cynic of all romantic cynics, quite probably because my life doesn't deal much with happy endings. I am convinced that one day I will be sitting in my neighborhood bar, and the door will open, and my knight in shining armor will ride in on his white horse. (Believing in this one is probably my first mistake, and I've been doing it for years now.) Anyway, he'll ride right up to me and give me a gleaming white smile. At this point, his horse will turn around, lift its tail, and shit all over me. This is sort of basically the story of my life anyway.
That said, I have just seen a movie I absolutely adored, and I'm really deeply embarrassed about adoring it. It's called "Enchanted." It's the one where the cartoon princess is thrust into a well by the evil mother of her beloved and ends up in New York as an actual human being. It's the soppiest and most idiotic thing I've ever laid eyes on, and I just had the best damn time watching it - animatronic chipmunk and all. I am invariably delighted with large dancing production numbers in Central Park, and ball gowns, and waltz scenes, and true love (of course Princess Bride is one of the great movies of all time, right up there with On The Waterfront). Anyway, I thought it was just idiotic and the best funk destroyer ever. (Except, of course, for Princess Bride.) Actually, I meant to see this in an actual movie theatre, but I got deeply embarrassed at going alone, what with all those ten year old girls - I was somewhat afraid of being arrested.
And tomorrow TMC (which, as we all know by now if we assiduously read my blog - you DO, don't you? - is about the only channel I ever watch) is doing an entire evening of Gene Kelly movies. I am delighted. What with the no money and all (although thanks to my wonderful child, I actually have an inhaler now and can breathe again, thank you very much), I can't think of anything more completely delightful than an evening spent with about seven hours of Gene Kelly. On the Town, Cover Girl, and one of the three all time greatest movie musicals ever - An American in Paris. (The other two, should you care for my opinion, are Singin' in the Rain and Seven Brides for Seven Brothers.)
Oh, and I am weirdly delighted by the news that there is a group of Hawaiians who attempted to take over the palace in Hawaii and reinstate the rightful King. I think this is a fine idea. Except that there seem to be several groups of native Hawaiians who insist that their leader is the rightful King...and, obviously, several "rightful Kings". There is a tiny bit of me that is slightly annoyed by this, in that none of these various groups seems to want to take over anything in the name of a rightful Queen, but what the hell. I'm sure one will turn up. I mean, you know, what about Queen Liliuokalani? And if I spelled that right, it's a miracle (given the Hawaiian language, I'm sure I've left out six or eight vowels) (son of a bitch - spell check actually gave me the correct spelling...weird). (Hey, I'm up on my Hawaiian lore - I used to watch Magnum, P.I. all the time.)
Let's all pray that the jobs are out there for Tuesday in terms of extra work...there are about 42 jobs for Monday, but because my gals from Chicago are coming in, I'm not going for them - problem is, once you get on a TV/movie set, you never know when you'll get off it (which is NOT a bad thing - as in time and a half or - please God, actual overtime), and Shelby and Sharon's time is fairly limited (they run a gift business and come every year for the gift show at the Javits Center). And when you've known someone as long as I've known Shel - it's upwards of 40 years now, I guess - you really don't want anything to interfere with your once a year day.
I shall now go to sleep and dream of myself dancing with a handsome prince...and cleaning up after his goddamn horse.