Am still in "pajamas" (pajamas meaning things I found on the floor). Today:
-watched Jackie Brown with my parents. Rose at 3pm. Worked on actor resume, read some of the Style section over tea, washed face, dicked around on internet. It's amazing how you really can just murder time--with the resounding whump of an explosion far away.

Obsessed a little bit, in direct opposition to New Years Resolution number one. I know I shouldn't stalk you--especially when I don't even have anything to say, really--but it's like Cheap Trick, I want you to want me. Attention is really the best thing anyone can ask for. It feels great.

I think Jackie Brown is about growing old. It's really bloody and very Quentin Tarantino, but that ending scene with Max Cherry and Jackie is really kind of eloquent. I can't figure out why he won't go with her, or why he won't take more money. I hope it's not something I'll learn to understand when I'm older. I wonder if anyone really, truly wants to be alone or if everyone is a lot more afraid than they seem...of dying. Is it dying? See the thing is, when I think about death it doesn't scare me as a thing by itself. I worry about pain or losing my mind or deteriorating slowly or seeing other people I love pass away, and being old...maybe it all has something to do with dignity. Jackie Brown doesn't actively lust after trips to Spain or a way out of her job, she wants dignity. More than she wants to be in love. I guess she already was in love.

It confuses me, sometimes (and trust me, I can imagine how naive this sounds) that not everyone wants the same things.