Fair game.
Yesterday, we went to the Mississippi State Fair! What fun! The weather was perfect, and we rode tons of rides. (Including the Mega-Drop. I managed to get out three expletives in the time it took us to drop from the top to the bottom.) I also always take a run down the huge yellow slide. (I know, I know, but I've been sliding down that slide every year since I was a girl. It's TRADITION! And, once you get bigger, you build some serious speed on that thing.) We ate fair food (I had a yummy biscuit filled with syrup, an all-beef hot dog, and a twisty ice cream cone! I'd advise bottled water, though. You never know about the fair . . . ) We admired all the gorgeous antique cars set up at the Trade-Mart, which we love to do. There are some really beautiful machines in there. We talk about which ones we'd look good in, and what kind of car we would restore if we had the chance (and knew anything, anything at all, about restoring cars).
I sang a song in I Love You, You're Perfect, Now Change about a woman waiting in line for the restroom. Now, every time I find myself waiting in line for the ladies' room, I think of it. I think, "Hmmmm . . . I have a song for this!" So far, I haven't started singing yet, but maybe someday, if the line is REALLY long . . . we'll I can't be held responsible for my actions in a situation such as that.
After the fair, I freshened up at home before meeting one of my dearest friends for pedicures. What a fun little luxury! We chatted while our feet were massaged, then headed out for a little shopping. Geez, everything seemed to be on sale. (Isn't that the way?) We had a little dinner at Up the Creek before parting ways. It was so good to see her and talk with her again. I have many friends and even more acquaintances, but nothing ever seems to compare to someone who has known me since dirt. We've been friends since junior high, and in addition to the charming conversational shorthand we've developed over the years, she's just one of the best all-around people that I know. Thank God for the sanity she brings me.
Oh, I also saw Memoirs of a Geisha this week! I'd read the novel, and I was pleased to see that the movie followed the book very closely. The film was absolutely beautiful, with arresting shots of the geisha as they went about their daily tasks and beautiful pans of the gorgeous faces of the actresses. There were also a few nice shots of (what was supposed to be) the Japanese countryside. The film follws Chiyo (Sayuri), a young girl from the country who grows to become one of the most celebrated geishas in pre-war Japan. I know that there was a big stink when the film came out that some of the actresses cast were Chinese, rather than Japanese, but I say phooey on that. You cast an actor to play a role. I've seen plenty of straight actors turn in wonderfully nuanced performances of gay characters. I've seen plenty of older actors play roles that were younger than they were, and vice versa. So what? The director's job is to find the right actor for the role, and that actor may or may not be the exact nationality referred to in the script. The point is, does this performer tell the story?
And the performers in Memoirs of a Geisha definitely do. Ziyi Zhang (Chiyo/Sayuri), Li Gong (Hatsumomo), and Michelle Yeoh (Mameha) all give their characters a wonderful depth and subtext, and I really enjoyed them. I know that some critics also huffed about the movie being Westernized, with the actors all speaking English, etc. Wha . . . ? The movie is based on a book written by Arthur Golden, a middle-aged white guy from Tennessee. How can you get more Western than that? Anyway, I personally found the film to be a visual jewel with fabulous performances. I recommend it.
I sang a song in I Love You, You're Perfect, Now Change about a woman waiting in line for the restroom. Now, every time I find myself waiting in line for the ladies' room, I think of it. I think, "Hmmmm . . . I have a song for this!" So far, I haven't started singing yet, but maybe someday, if the line is REALLY long . . . we'll I can't be held responsible for my actions in a situation such as that.
After the fair, I freshened up at home before meeting one of my dearest friends for pedicures. What a fun little luxury! We chatted while our feet were massaged, then headed out for a little shopping. Geez, everything seemed to be on sale. (Isn't that the way?) We had a little dinner at Up the Creek before parting ways. It was so good to see her and talk with her again. I have many friends and even more acquaintances, but nothing ever seems to compare to someone who has known me since dirt. We've been friends since junior high, and in addition to the charming conversational shorthand we've developed over the years, she's just one of the best all-around people that I know. Thank God for the sanity she brings me.
Oh, I also saw Memoirs of a Geisha this week! I'd read the novel, and I was pleased to see that the movie followed the book very closely. The film was absolutely beautiful, with arresting shots of the geisha as they went about their daily tasks and beautiful pans of the gorgeous faces of the actresses. There were also a few nice shots of (what was supposed to be) the Japanese countryside. The film follws Chiyo (Sayuri), a young girl from the country who grows to become one of the most celebrated geishas in pre-war Japan. I know that there was a big stink when the film came out that some of the actresses cast were Chinese, rather than Japanese, but I say phooey on that. You cast an actor to play a role. I've seen plenty of straight actors turn in wonderfully nuanced performances of gay characters. I've seen plenty of older actors play roles that were younger than they were, and vice versa. So what? The director's job is to find the right actor for the role, and that actor may or may not be the exact nationality referred to in the script. The point is, does this performer tell the story?
And the performers in Memoirs of a Geisha definitely do. Ziyi Zhang (Chiyo/Sayuri), Li Gong (Hatsumomo), and Michelle Yeoh (Mameha) all give their characters a wonderful depth and subtext, and I really enjoyed them. I know that some critics also huffed about the movie being Westernized, with the actors all speaking English, etc. Wha . . . ? The movie is based on a book written by Arthur Golden, a middle-aged white guy from Tennessee. How can you get more Western than that? Anyway, I personally found the film to be a visual jewel with fabulous performances. I recommend it.
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