There's nothing like a violently stormy Sunday for indulging one's taste in lowbrow humor. Eurotrip AND Wedding Crashers--woohoo. While I was on the aethetician's table today, waiting for my pre-vacation waxing hell to begin, I read a great profile of Vince Vaughn and Owen Wilson that quotes the NYT on the new comedy mafia cabal comprising Vaughn, Wilson, Ben Stiller, Jack Black and Will Ferrell. So all during Wedding Crashers, I was waiting for the other mafiosi to show up. At least Ferrell didn't disappoint.
It took three tries for me to figure out who Matt Damon was in Eurotrip. His cameo is right up there with Brad Pitt's role in True Romance as one of the all-time best under-the-radar performances, at least in my little biased book.
The thunderstorms today were so loud that we could hear the thunder over the movie and over the muzak playing in the supermarket. Why no one thought that I was hopped up on drugs in the supermarket is a miracle because I was jumping like a scared rabbit every time the booming shook the building. The strange weather colored the entire day, making Boston feel like a tropical outpost in an atmospheric war. And that doesn't happen too often. Every movement felt heavy and damp. Silent in their misery, the cats elongated themselves on the hardwood floor, perhaps under the misinformed but understandable notion that horizontality = coolness. It was a weird day.
Off to RI tomorrow.
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