This soul collage card matches my weekend mood. I call it "Eternal Moonlight of the Troubled Mind."
It all began when I rented "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" and watched it with a friend on Friday night. I had heard the film was difficult to follow, but I love Jim Carrey and he rarely disappoints me. I didn't really get "Being John Malkovich" the first time I watched it, but the second time I did; it became a favorite film I still watch at least once a year. I felt so confused with "Mind," however, that I'm not positively sure I want to take the energy to watch it again, but probably will. I thought the acting was superb--but I honestly felt like I might be losing my mind.
What did happen is that the film set the tone for the weekend--a lot of wandering around doing unplanned things, starting a project and abruptly stopping and starting another--and checkered dreams of lawyers on Friday night--and being in Disneyland last night going on the ride I always loved where you entered a cell. Last night my daughter, grandson, granddaughter and I went to a huge soccer banquet for the national team winners--and it had to be one of the most boring events I've attended in a very long time--and I have had to attend countless banquets in my professional career. It was at a huge hotel in Anaheim (thus the Disneyland dream.) I felt like I was stuck in a surrealist painting with multi-media soccer champions making goals on all the wide screens around the room. It seemed like every other person was talking on a cellphone even during the presentations. The lights didn't work properly and sometimes the sound cut out. I would periodically close my eyes and listen to the utter cacophony of voices, a jazz band playing, and music seeping in from several other ballrooms in the hotel. My hearing, as I grow older, is admittedly a bit impaired. This had to be the real Tower of Babel. Making small talk with people I don't know and all of screaming at the top of our lungs to be heard used to fun; now it is sheer agony. The food was not rubber chicken--it was supposedly a very fancy glazed Italian chicken, with a pre-salad literally soaked in balsamic vinegar. A flourless chocolate terrine with fresh strawberries and clotted cream was good, however. Shortly after eating, my grandson got terribly ill and we fortunately had a reason to leave early. The ride home was like "Toad's Wild Ride," with rap music blaring, and my granddaughter receiving and making countless cell phone calls. This morning I woke up with a bad stomach ache and missed church and except for the three hours I spent in the garden, which was a heavenly respite, I mostly dozed and read.
Then came the Academy Awards and all I could keep thinking is Leonardo DiCaprio's Hughes character saying to Katherine Hepburn when she breaks up with him, "You're just a movie star." Living in Los Angeles since birth and working at many a celebrity event has jaded me a little bit, I think. I haven't seen Million Dollar Baby or Ray, but will make a point to soon. I loved Antonio Banderas and Carlos Santana's version of the winning song. And I do like movies and I respect the people who make them, but when the "star treatment" at awards takes place it is just as surrealistic as the hotel I was in last night.
So, what will I dream tonight? By the way, in the lawyer dream I was going from meeting to meeting where all of us were sitting in bleachers inside big office buildings yelling out our cases and offering criticism to our colleagues about how the trial could have gone better. Ye Gods!