How is it possible that today’s national TV headline, over and above the meltdown in Kenya or the stabbing of two teenagers in Kent, was Britney Spear’s …again?? How does her self-destruction matter on the global scale, eh? What is wrong with us? Wasn’t anyone listening when that brave and inspiring anchorwomen tore up and then burnt the Paris Hilton story on live TV last year? Sure, tell us about it at some point so we can ooh and ahh and say ‘I told you so’ as if it matters..but don’t lead the national !!!ing news with it! Stop the madness!
I am moody as I ache with incipient cold and as I am still detoxing cannot turn to my favourite cold cure all, the ‘hot toddy’. Instead I grizzle over weedy hot lemon and honey drinks and stuff my face with paracetomol. The only good thing about a cold is that it an excuse for double whisky and cloves.
I knew I must be coming down with something when, in my khai bo class last night, I thought I might have to kick the instructor in the head to get him to stop. My sight was also down slightly which usually happens when I am trying to fight off a virus. This makes it harder to balance as with just a few millimetres less I am having to readjust and refocus all the time. I can get giddy if I walk too fast let alone doing 200 sodding jumping-jack punches …
Whinging aside, I watched the ‘Bourne Ultimatum’ last night and found several times I was actually holding my breath, caught up in the action. The dark, swift raw style and the intense but suppressed performances, those flight sequences …man! It was incredibly gripping and Paul Greengrass may look just a little like Worzel Gummidge but he is a brilliantly inventive and intuitive director! I can’t remember the last time I actually had white knuckles watching a film….(in a good way…I once was forced to sit through ‘Click’ with Adam Sandler. Different white knuckles…)
As on film, and as I am not feeling very clever tonight, also should give the gorgeous Julie Delpy a huge cheer and ‘Bravo!’ for ‘2 Days in Paris’. It is sweet, clever, funny and rather moving. She manages to catch the cross cultural neurosis better even in my opinion, then Woody Allen. Oh yadda yadda whatever and sod it…grumpy, sore and toddyless is off to bed. Night.