Patricia Field, Coldplay, and hulu.com

So Friday Brian and I made a day out of going to see Sex and the City: The Movie. It didn't disappoint, but I'd have to say the real star of the whole she-bang had to be Pat Field. Like holy goddam shit. The clothes stole the show. The sex wasn't even that hot, definitely not as hot as the clothes. The hottest sex was probably the doggie-style between Miranda and Steve, which is pretty lame because they are the least pornographic looking couple. The grossest part of the movie was probably when we viewed a full on (fire)crotchshot. But anyway. Back to the clothes. Carrie was rockin' the florals something awful. I say "rockin'" not to appear hip and happenin' but because the nice demure 50's florals were brilliantly paired up with a vintage punk rock black studded belt and some killer Dior Extreme heels AT ALL TIMES. Once we see the sad Carrie, she starts wearing more black and being all sad, BUT IS STILL ROCKING THIS BELT. It pops up at the end as well. It's a nice touch. There was of course the necessary bridal montage and Carrie ends up in probably the least flattering of all the dresses used. I would've gone with the LaCroix, had I been her fictional character. The Zac Posen bridesmaid's dresses were breathtaking, especially the black one Charlotte wore.  I loved that they were all different colors. 

The new Coldplay leaked the other day and I've been listening to it off-and-on, but not seriously. It didn't excite me at all. I guess when an album leaks its just always got a different feel or vibe. You never hear the songs in the order you're supposed to, the titles are all jumbled. I got the Gnarls Barkley when it leaked, burned copies for friends, and it turned out all the songs were in the wrong order because they were all labeled with the wrong titles. I was trying to get this Coldplay all in order and it turned out there's five extra songs supposedly on the album. I don't even know why Rolling Stone reviews bootleg and that sort of thing. I think we should just keep all this illegal shit hush-hush and under the rug. Like a gay aristocrat. Now with all this downloading and shit there's all the acoustic versions, iTunes exclusives. Plus you know Coldplay has to be pretentious and combine tracks, and then some douche needs separate them and make them available for download. Sheesh. Maybe people should pay for shit occasionally. I don't love these songs, but I'm hoping that maybe if I listen to them in order I might warm to them.

So. I have a new addiction in the form of all my favorite television shows (Arrested Development and It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia pretty much) available for free streaming in the form of www.hulu.com. It's the greatest thing since sliced illegal streaming. And it has a lot of episodes of Morgan Spurlock's "30 Days" which I never had occasion to see owing to the fact that I don't have cable (the mother is against TV). I have become such a leather lounge chair potato as a result. "30 Days" is really stellar. So far my favorite episode had to be the one where Morgan and his wife Alex go live in Ohio on minimum wage. Once they started stressing about money their immune systems weakened and they fought so much more. Pretty interesting stuff. 

The past 4 days I had no internet connection and it is now miraculously much stronger, which I am happy of. 

We found a home for the cat. My cousin's friend's sister's (holy apostrophes) cat just died and she's been searching for a new one ever since. Ours sufficed. I was glad. I liked being a cat owner for 3 days. It was fun. I am glad I got to experience it. Now I know I never want a cat. It clawed up enough of my shit to piss me off, it scratched my skin so it looks like I self-harm. Ew. 

Dressing like Sophia and a Cat That Thinks it's a Dog

Yesterday I went to apply for a job at an Italian restaurant on the Square. I put on a crisp linen shirtdress with brown and pink stripes, big white round sunglasses, and gold flats. I kept the kinks in my hair and made it big and smooth. I contemplated a light brown Florentine hat, but conceded that it was too hot. I was dressed like Sophia Loren. On purpose. I had pictured this restaurant being run by the Sopranos or the Corleones. I got there and there was no smoky dark back room. The first guy I talked to told me I wasn't the guy he was looking for, he was the window washer. Then some old leathery classic Southern lady came out. and asked if she could help me, honey? I told her how I'd seen on craigslist that there were a lot of job openings at this particular restaurant, and wondered if any of the positions had been filled. She told me the manager was busy right now but she'd be able to see me later, and gave me an application. Whaaaaat? Where was Tony? Where was Vito?  This Italian restaurant was turning out to be pretty much bullshit. What was the point of dressing up for these mom-jeans clad people?

Today when my aunt got home I was talking on the phone and my aunt put a kitten in my lap. She told me it was abandoned in a storage facility and a client of hers had found it, and was deathly allergic. So she took it home. And now my aunt's dog, Peaches, is nursing it. My dogs don't like or trust it yet. It tried to nurse my dog, Domino (spawn of Peaches) and she flipped out. 

I've sneezed at least 6 times in the past 2 hours. None of those were like, three in a row either. I think I'm allergic to cats. I've never had one before, there's no way of knowing. We'll see. I need to think of a name for the cat before my mom and my aunt come up with some stupid one. Together they have some of the worst pet names in history. Fluffy (dog). Honey Bee (dog). 'Atta Boy (dog). La Morena, because she was black. I wanted to name her Token (dog). Domino because she has black spots and she's white (dog). I am pretty sure this cat is a female. She's like a Maine Coon mix I'd estimate. But in my mind there's only like two types of cats.