Soporific

In case anybody was wondering, "From Paris with Love" is surprisingly a good movie. Nolan coerced me into watching it after we got home from our dinner (which was delish!), so we swaddled ourselves in blankets with Milo and sat down for what he told me was going to be a romantic movie. Wrong. But it was still good. If you can look past the vile amounts of blood and guts spattering the screen. Romance, indeed.

Though now that I think of it, I can trace why he gets these movies. Because he seems to go on a binge of certain actors or directors for awhile, and I've finally linked it to whatever he watches during the day on hulu and netflix. He tracks down movies with the same actors, and watches them...then Netflix recommends similar movies. So for example we were on a Guy Ritchie binge for awhile, and then Samuel L. Jackson (that one was interesting...oddly enough, no pulp fiction). Last night I discovered that he must really be enjoying watching The Tudors, because the main actor was Jonathan Rhys-Meyers. Shall I implant Alan Rickman or Colin Firth's works on the list so we can binge on their movies? I wouldn't mind that.

Title = can you guess how I'm feeling again? Yawn. 'Tis only by being totally engrossed reading "The Man In The Iron Mask" on the muni home each night that I don't fall asleep and end up alone in a train yard.