Trailer Time with Emily

I'm home sick today, swaddled in a snuggie and patiently working on creating a butt-shaped groove on our new couch cushions. Just watched a bunch of movie trailers, want to know what I think about 'em? Read on. This is as creative and engaged as I'm going to get today, enjoy the delirium.

As a child of the 80s/90s, obviously Sesame Street lives in a very warm and fuzzy part of my heart. But I never really 'got' Elmo. Pretty high-pitched for my tastes. Oscar and the little worm guy are my favorites. Anyway, from the looks of it, the guy behind Elmo is wayyy cuter than the muppet ever was.

This looks like the type of movie that is totally manipulative in a really okay way. Here's a list of reasons why this appeals to me, even though I don't usually watch/care about/enjoy dramas about animals.

Jim Halpert John Krasinski, Drew Barrymore sans Covergirl mask, Alaska is fascinating always (probably because I was a devout Northern Exposure fan as a kid), dreamy guy from My Best Friend's Wedding is in a uniform and now has perfect salt'n'pepper hair (dreamyx3), I like how whales are too big to even understand, I want to know how you cut through solid ocean ice, I laughed when they brought 'Soviets' into the story, I like crying about people coming together.

I'm intrigued by the little crazy boy who is narrating when the trailer opens. I enjoy glimpses into Other American Lifestyles. Also I love to see people dance, and it looks like there are lots of weirdos dancing in this movie. 

I haven't been to the movies in awhile, and I don't have cable, and I live under a rock. I have heard people mention this movie though, and did find the trailer pretty entertaining. Obviously Ryan Gosling and Carey Mulligan are as gorgeous as ever. But I don't think I can watch anything involving Christina Hendricks wearing 21st-century clothing. It's just wrong.

This looks pretty good, if you feel like crying a lot, or being lost in time, or being scared of Willem Dafoe. Mostly though I'm just relieved that, once you hide his smarmy face behind a scruffy beard and some scholarly glasses, Ryan Reynolds finally looks as attractive as everyone claims he is. 

I've saved the best for last (and listed alphabetically). This is so beautiful and strange and mesmerizing, obviously I will love it. In theatres November 11th -- if no one else steps up to the plate (aHEM) I'm gonna take myself for my birthday (NOVEMBER22ND). I've made my peace with Kirsten Dunst for the most part, and I think she is more than cancelled out by Charlotte Gainsbourg and a big mystical ice planet.

Thanks for tuning in, folks.

Emily

Color Play

This time of year especially, my sartorial instinct is to mimic nature and dress myself in shades of ivory, brown, and gray. But this fall, more than ever before, I feel as though I need to be embracing color. If anyone else is in need of some motivation or inspiration, look no further than yesterday's Bhutanese royal wedding. I don't know about you, but never before have I even considered combining marigold, fuchsia and turquoise. But somehow it feels perfect for October.

Queen Jetsun

Wishing you a bright and inspired autumn,

Emily

Analog Internet: the world was a better place when people used encyclopedias

When I want to learn something, or seek entertainment, or merely pass the time, I go to my desk. Simple, but made of solid wood, it sits in the corner of a room by a window. I sit and, in one motion, pull an enormous book to the center of the desk while bringing myself to the edge of my seat. With the cover resting in one hand, I walk my fingers down the edges of pages until they reach some letter or number or space in my mind and then I spread them open. Rarely, I'll get it just right, and there it is, the tidbit I was looking for. But, far more often, it's not there, and so I get sidetracked, letting my finger trace down the page, letting my mind flit from one thing to another, losing myself in the pages and columns and synonyms and related articles. And then the sun is different on the page, or there's a noise outside the window. Contrasted with the soft paper and orderly text and thoughtful absorption of the moment before, the outdoors seem so bright and chaotic and alluring with the promise of all I had learned and all that is still to be known. I leave the book open, letting the pages lift and fall in the breeze from the open window in the corner of the room that is empty, and I am seeing what all the noise is about.