For someone who claims to be such a sucker at romance (or at least, claimed; I’ve recently taken a liking to zombie movies, simply because it’s really the only thrill I get in life. Romance makes me see what I don’t have, something I say I don’t want to have, but something deep inside everyone actually wants to have), I just watched Notting Hill today.
I know. What have I been doing under a rock?
Since the frisson is still fresh, I probably won’t be able to say anything negative about it, even though I will be able to once I watch this ten thousand times. The only thing I can think of right now is how surreal (but nice. Ha-ha-ha) the story is – it will probably never happen between an actress and an ordinary travel bookshop seller. Unless that actress is really, really special and isn’t blinded by all the glitz. I don’t think no one’s not blinded by glitz. Even non-actors are blinded by the glitz.
I watched this because I thought Hugh Grant’s character from Love Actually (which I just watched yesterday, too) was really, really cute – an awkward prime minister. And then I found out he’s awkward here, too. It really suits him and it does make him sooo attractive.
So anyway, enough. Nothing special about today except I was my brother’s driver and maid. I drove him to school, waited for him to finish, cleaned his room because he can’t (because the dust will make him itch all over, which I understand). But synthesizing it like this… it kinda sucks.
I just… wish I had something more going on in my life.