proustbot: (asia at odd hours)
I saw The Wedding Plan yesterday with Zane and Betty and J. It was cute. I liked it. (Zane tells me that the fish-smearing scene is not normal practice.)

I also saw Wonder Woman with Bear et al. It was...okay? Decidedly less amazing than the euphoric reviews made it seem, though. I think movie reviewers are just really, really bummed out by the Batman/Superman movies, and they're so desperately relieved to see a fun, Disney-esque film that their critical apparatuses are not functioning at peak power. However, I am reminded -- once again -- how much I enjoy movies in which buff ladies beat up men.

Alias Grace, The Rivers of London, and A Writer in the Kitchen )
proustbot: (clint eastwood)
Yesterday I did 14 pomodoros: I did laundry, I did morning pages, I read half a dozen books, and I wrote ~600 words.

Current Tally: $30

Yesterday, I saw Ariel in the office, and he said that he had ditched the birthday party as well. And also everyone he knew had also ditched.

We made identical faces of horror at one another. "Did...anyone go?"

Yesterday, I muzzily made my way through the first two episodes of Riverdale. I enjoy depictions of creepy suburbia -- Twin Peaks, Life is Strange, Brick -- so I am along for that ride, but I'd prefer it if Betty/Archie/Veronica weren't a foregone conclusion. It would be a lot more fun if I could pretend that they were just going to stay tight but date beyond their friend-group. (And obviously that's not going to happen.) I am also amused at the Lolita glasses that wardrobe gave Ms. Grundy; I'm assuming that she'll tie back into the murder plot through some kinky affair that she was conducting with Jason Blossom. (I'm assuming, as well, that making the Blossom twins red-heads will yield some sort of dramatic pay-off in regards to red-headed Archie.)

This morning I'm going to stay home and keep banging out this chapter. This afternoon I'll go into the office and sit through a pointless-but-karmically-mandated event.
proustbot: (The Last Girl)
On Friday, I did 1 pomodoro (in which I cleaned) -- but, in my defense, I did go into work for seven hours.

On Saturday, I did 9 pomodoros (in which I wrote my morning pages, reached inbox zero, did tax stuff, cleaned house, read more about sacraments, and collected all the fiddly bits for the reimbursement I need to submit Monday).

Current Tally: $16

I also bailed on going to a birthday party, for which I suspect the birthday boy will never forgive me -- but as I sat in my darkened bedroom, eating a cheddar-cheese-and-creamy-caesar-dressing sandwich, I thought, "Well, I could put on my coat and walk for half an hour to go to an unfun house party with a bunch of drunken bros and a deadly fire pit on the bottom of a steep incline...or I could go to bed."

Dear Reader, I went to bed.

Betty invited me over to a Superbowl party tonight, but that was easier to refuse (as I weighed the pros of eating chips and drinking beer and watching commercials with the cons of many, many hours of football).

This is going to be my semester of saying no to things!

In unrelated news, I beat Banner Saga for the third time.


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