I wasn't so familiar with the Channel Islands until a few
weeks ago. If you asked, I'm not sure I could even tell you where they sat,
confusing them with other C islands like Catalina (which is a Channel Island,
it turns out) or the Canaries, which are Spanish. The Channel Islands also have
Spanish names, but are off the coast of California near Santa Barbara, another
Spanish name place.
Even though my sister sent me a pile of books for my
birthday, now nearly three months ago, I've only just started reading one
earnestly: San Miguel. San Miguel is a Channel Island.
A week or so ago on Jeopardy, a show I almost never watch
anymore, I was the only one who knew the correct response for the $2,000 clue
in American Islands. "At 1 square mile, Santa Barbara Island is the
smallest in this group off the southern California coast."
A NJ-based Facebook and Instagram friend has been posting photos
of Channel Islands intermittently the past few days. I have no idea why. I also often wonder why no one seems to ever be working. Perhaps others think the same of me. I do work. And I've only used one goddamn week of vacation this entire year when I'm entitled to three minimum and there isn't technically a maximum. There might not even be ten weeks left in 2013, but I'm not going to check or I'll get even more anxious. Yesterday, I thought of Christmas in Dubai and now I'm even more sold on it.
Two Friday nights ago, I decided to mess with video on
demand because I pay a shitload for cable ($166 per month) and am not convinced
I get my money's worth even though I do watch a lot of TV. I think Ruby Sparks
was supposed to subvert the Manic Pixie Dream Girl trope, but still managed to
be a Manic Pixie Dream Girl movie, therefore rubbing me the wrong way. I
disliked Paul Dano's character, and disliked that screenwriter, Zoe Kazan ,
granddaughter of Elia Kazan, is also Dano's real-life girlfriend. I didn't realize Paul Dano was 29 in real
life, which also contributed to my dislike. I could deal more if he were a precocious
20 year old. His character is estranged
from his mom who is kooky now, though she wasn't a free-spirit when he was
growing up, and now she lives in Big Sur with Antonio Banderas.
Two Saturday nights ago, I continued a recent trend of
staying in and watching the PBS two-fer, always an indie, sandwiched on both
sides by the same classic. In this case, East of Eden before and after
something called Small, Beautifully Moving Parts. A 30-ish pregnant woman in
NYC seeks out her mother who abandoned her and her sister and father when she
was a kid. The mom is kooky and living off the grid in…well, up until a few
minutes ago I thought Big Sur, which seemed really bizarre to happen two nights
in a row to a fictional character, but that's not true at all. It was a desert
in Nevada, not even remotely watery, rugged and isolated, though, and I'm now convinced more than ever that
I suffer from short-term memory loss (or willful ignorance). The movie was very
flat to me and I wanted to like it more (same with this week's Lbs. Hello Lonesome from a few weeks ago was
the best I've seen from this segment recently, or maybe I was just swayed by
the presence of James Urbaniak) and obviously I wasn't watching intently.
Betrayal is going to be cancelled, no doubt, and it's
created this mini-resurgence in my Henry Thomas interest. I want to interview
him, but have no idea how to get in touch with celebrity publicists. I'm more accustomed
to dealing with restaurant and retailer PR. While poking around his IMDB
profile, I noticed his only other 2013 credit is something called Big Sur. Oh
right, the Jack Kerouac movie. He plays
a Portland-born Beat poet. Huh. He's also separated from his second wife, the
German actress. Fascinating stuff. But seriously, I really think I need to get
in touch with him, and this is not stalkery at all. There are answers waiting
to be discovered.