sumo wrestlers fight like girls

I've been avoiding the LJ, on and off, like one avoids a chore or homework or making a phone call or anything that causes anxiety. But that's been it, that's been it of late. I'm not getting anything done besides sleeping too much and drooling on the pillowcase. And having restless dreams involving cyanide, and me riding on planes with a kitchen knife in hand and making out with the cabin crew. Good times.

-
I like the idea of translators and interpreters as characters in fiction (that's my kink), which is why it saddens me that The Interpreter seems so perfectly not worth seeing. The City magazine says it's a Putte movie. Putte movies are the kind of movies where people say, putte kandaun, and sometimes in between with variations: putte kandaun matöfakö, putitdaun! Putitdaun! Nau! Aisednau! And you can predict the number of corpses to come by the passion put into the Putte. (I know this isn't quite as funny to those of us who aren't me.)

I'm the only person in the world who didn't really like Amelie, right? Right. That's okay.

-
This is where I meant to put the music meme from everyone and their dog, but didn't.

-
And there's a new Pope, there's a new Pope. There is that. Time happening, things changing.

(no subject)

PS, here's a really pathetic question. Suppose I sort of, hm, walked into my bathroom sink and banged my knee against it and made it crack. Sort of. Perhaps sort of repeatedly. And suppose I really couldn't afford a new sink & the works right now, or in the foreseeable future. Do we know of anything I could do in order to keep the crack from, you know, killing the sink dead? Hm. I'll have to look into it. Also, why does this never happen to other people?