After successfully getting my little ones to bed by 7:30 pm last night, I ordered in some Chinese food and popped in the dvd of "The Wind and The Lion" (it having been much on mind since composing this post a little while back). After a Tsingtao or two too many, I then got totally sucked into "The Scent of a Woman." Yes, I know we've all seen it a million times ("hoo-ahh!"), but I have a very hard time not watching Al Pacino deliver such an over-the-top performance. The trouble with this was that it went until 12:30 am. During the disciplinary hearing scene at the end, Pacino's enraged defense of Chris O'Donnell's character somehow managed to wake little Oliver, and I had to spend the next two hours attempting to coax my little son back to sleep. Ugh.
I didn't really get too much sleep after that. Even though I managed to restore the calm, I'm still feeling somewhat residually creeped out after watching David Lynch's "Mulholland Drive" the night before (I cannot shake the denouement of this surreally horrific scene from my mind). Call me a big wimp, but once I get a jarring image in my head, it can sometime take a great while before I'm able to forget it.
Meanwhile, the kids starting babbling this morning around 6:30 am. I reluctantly rose to attend to them and looked out the window to find that winter has officially arrived. The temperature is somewhere in the freakin' twenties and a steady snow-fall was slowly covering the streets with a clean, white quilt. While it's certainly pretty and even a bit festive, it invariably means another long day inside. Peggy and her friends are supposed to be driving home from Vermont today, and I'll bet the snow is a good deal heavier up there. It's about 8:20 at the moment -- and I'm really hoping they've gotten started.
Should Peggy make it home on time, I'm supposed to go see Mudhoney play the entirety of Superfuzz Bigmuff tonight at the Bowery Ballroom. I'd go pick out my best vintage flannel shirt for the occasion, but I don't want to jinx it just yet, being that Old Man Weather seems to be plotting against me. As I type this, Charlotte's glued to the television for another shrill installment of "Dora The Explorer." Oliver, meanwhile, has toddled over to the window behind me, staring out at the falling snow in a state of big-eyed, cherubic wonderment. What sort of day will it be?
In any case, while they probably won't be playing this tonight (it's on a different album), I thought I'd close this post with an old Mudhoney favorite of mine. Enjoy. And stay away from the back lot of that Winkie's!
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