Well, you know, I always try to find the silver lining; I really do. And I was always taught in school that if you can't say anything nice then don't say anything at all. So let's see...

If you really, really like studying Angelina Jolie's eye make-up up close and noting how expertly the colors are blended to form this sort of incredible sweep of confounding loveliness on her larger-than-life eyelids then you will positively love The Tourist!

I give you my Scout's Honor on that one, gang. Her eye make-up is pretty darned exceptionally executed.

You will not stop looking at it, no matter what or who else might be up there on the screen with her. Even if you were, say, a really, really huge Johnny Depp "admirer" and he was up there on that giant screen, saying a bunch of lines and stuff, you would still be sitting there thinking: "Now, if I went home and got out that new shadow & eyeliner quad by Yves Rocher, "variation de noir,"  that I got for the holidays and was really careful about blending -- but then it would require an awful lot of eyeliner, and then false eyelashes, which I haven't worn in about 10 years... and -- wow, that would really just be a ton of gunk on my eyes; wouldn't it? Would I really want to go through all that at my age? And then I'd just have to take it all off again and that would take forever..."

But I was entertained, I really was. There wasn't a moment where I was wondering if it would ever end, or anything like that. (I was wondering other things, but I'm not going to talk about that here.)  It was an engaging story and it had a number of humorous moments in it. If you're a huge fan of Angelina Jolie's, you will have nothing to complain about; she's all over that film like white on rice. So there you have it! On we go!

Christmas Gift!

My cousin bought me the greatest little Christmas gift. Not only fun and totally suited to my temperament,  but also educational!! Yay! I regale you!!



On a more serious note...

I got to the shopping area early to shop before I met my cousin to go to the movie. I call it an "area", but it's more like a "pretend town". This whole pretend town that's really just this incredibly flawlessly laid out shopping/dining experience created to make you feel like your life is something a little different from what it actually is. They have one of these places in L.A., too. I don't know where else they have them. But it's got little streets and fake town square type things and just shop after shop after shop, and a bunch of restaurants peppered throughout.

At Christmas, it is to die for -- that is, if you like all the tons of lights and stuff, and piped-in Christmas music everywhere you go, even outside. (I actually do like that shit. I guess because I am always striving to be someone and someplace other than who and where I am!)

There's one little corner that I call a mini-Manhattan and that's the only area I really like to go to. To try somehow to get even a shred of a New York fix. They have Henri Bendel's --  it's only a tenth of the size of the real one, but with the astronomical prize-tags in place. They have Tiffany's, but not with the amazing little store windows along the side that always had the neatest little Christmas decorations. They try, but they don't even come close to being the "real" Tiffany's.

So I just gave up. All I was doing was being reminded of how incredible my Christmas's in New York were, especially when I was married to my second husband, Wayne. (For one thing, we got engaged at Tiffany's.) I was just getting too depressed. I actually started to cry. Thank goodness it was dark out. I went over to the little fountain thing that has this enormous Christmas tree all done up in these gorgeous blue lights and the piped in Christmas music and everything is so incredibly clean. I sat down on a bench. A sliver of a moon up above. And all around me was a fake New York: Smith & Wollensky's, Godiva, Tiffany's, Henri Bendel's & Macy's. It was ridiculous. Pretend town, pretend New york, pretend me, and a pretend "perfect" Christmas. I miss my friends so much. All my writer, musician, filmmaking friends. Especially at Christmas. And I told myself, this is the worst Christmas ever. Even in the days when I was really, really poor, the Christmases were perfect because I was always surrounded by friends and we always had hope and outrageous laughter and just this thrill to keep trying (plus a ton of cookies that I had baked! Plus, Christ -- it was New York.).

And then I realized I couldn't just sit there and cry; that wouldn't do. People would start looking at me and I can't stand to be "looked at." I had to find the silver lining even in the "worst Christmas ever" -- and I found it. You know, if this is the worst Christmas ever, then that means that starting next year, all the Christmases will start getting better. And then, in the true Christmas spirit, a star appeared over head and I made a wish -- one of those wishes that you make with all your heart.

So we shall see, gang. I'm usually pretty good at manifesting stuff. So check back with me next Christmas and see if I don't in fact turn it all back around.