Love has no rhyme or reason...

(picture from MSN.com)

Hey Sagittarians!

Another one of your ranks has turned 28!

(It's me.)

Paging Dr. Freud

It is widely known that what you do on new year's eve directly correlates with how your next year goes. Given this is a theory, I have extrapolated the following: Your dreams on the night before your birthday dictate how your year will go. I don't want to bore you with all the scientific crap that I had to do to lead me to this conclusion; suffice to say it involves types of math you've never even heard of and lots of squiggly lines and greek letters standing in for formulas.

The only problem now is figuring out the interpretations of those dreams so I can either buy a lottery ticket or build a bunker underneath the rich willamette soil.

Dream #1

I am riding a cross town bus under water being chased by enormous rust-tinted great white sharks. Someone says "Wow, this is neat. Last year they wouldn't even come near us."

I think why the hell do you want sharks near your bus?

Dream #2

I am asked by a blind man to help him complain to Safeway that one of their stores is closed. When we get to the other safeway, he throws a fit, trashes the Safeway and I look down to see I am wearing a tatty robe and slippers. Consequently my boyfriend (who is a stocker at safeway) dumps me.

I get pissed, because in a moment of clarity, I realize I have been dumped on my birthday. So I ride my bike home, found out I left my keys in the door (again) and find looters stealing everything I own. So I have to keep them hostage in order to get my stuff back. This involves a lot of shit talking and torture and watching of the lifetime channel. When I try to call 9-11, I get a data error. Then when I try to email 9-11, it turns out that I have accidentally typed my emergency into a website that analyzes plot structure. It says I have a faulty plot.


Eh?

Hancock: The movie that won me over.

After wandering bleary-eyed and cranky for at least 25 minutes in Hollywood Video last night, I finally fell prey to their in-store movie clips. I was staring slack-jawed at the screen above my minimum wage minion when the trailer for hancock came on. I had been searching in vain for something that would sufficiently numb my brain (which still hasn't been relieved of all the pressure of Nanowrimo). So I ran to the back and got the disc, rushed it home over some perilous SE Portland suburban roads (which may or may not be paved, effing NW) and shoved it in my DVD player.

The whole movie was alright. The special effects were fantastic (as per all will smith vehicles) but I kept getting distracted by the blonde in the corner who was giving all these weird signals to will smith and cooing over Jason Bateman's baby face. I kept thinking "gawd that looks like charlize theron. Nah can't be her." Then it turned out it totally was. And she was awesome. There's a reason she won an oscar.

And I totally didn't see the twist. It just made me all happy and gooey inside.

And, beware: the cinematography makes it look like jason bateman and will smith are always on the verge of making out. Do Americans ever talk that close? And, how many scenes do you have to have with someone's head blocking out most of the screen. That makes their head like 50 feet across (were you to see it in the theaters, 100 in IMAX). Seriously, no one's head will look good that big. Not even Jason Bateman.

So yeah. Probably wouldn't buy it, but I'd watch it again. Which is way more than I expected.