the seventh

I realized while showering yesterday that the root of the word "exclusive" is exclude. I will think twice about calling something exclusive. I'm more user-friendly than that.

So when I came up here yesterday morning to try squeezing out a blog, I had nothing to write about. But luckily, yesterday was a day where things worth writing about took place.

Jeremy defeated Final Fnatasy X. It was easier than either of us would've expected. It's because his characters were freakishly overdeveloped. He had to fight, like, twenty bad things in a row, and no one died. Not once. Even funnier: the ending he logged almost 120 hours of gameplay to achieve skipped and froze. So we don't really know what happened in the story. The badness has gone away, but what were the ramifications? Nothing but the best from Movie Gallery. Thankfully, seeing an ending staved my need to keep playing, at least for now.

The window man came yesterday to install Arthur's windows, and this morning he's doing ours. It'll make for a cold, awkward day today, but tomorrow we will reap the rewards in the form of less oil usage. He got here about ten minutes ago. Not knowing whether or not he needed to invade our space yesterday, we spent a chunk of the afternoon cleaning things. I've got to say, with a little extra effort, the apartment smells fantastic. We should be threatened with servicemen more often. I'm pretty sure I ruined our vacuum by using a sprinkle powder on the stairs and entryway. We have a bagless model, and when I emptied out the booty I noticed the filter was clogged beyond recognition with cakey white dust. And after that, it just sucked less (physically. though you could say for this reason that it sucked more. oh, the levity!)

Last night I quickly shut off Christmas with the Cranks. There was a scene where Tim Allen got water dumped on him many times in a five-minute span (while Jamie Lee Curtis sat unfunnily and Patricia Richardsonly in the car, doing needlepoint), and that was enough for me. We did, though, watch Blizzard in its entirety. Directed by Levar Burton, this was not an excellent movie. It was passably bland. Christopher Plummer was a hearing-impaired, borderline-retarded Santa Claus at a corporate-looking North Pole. He wasn't the star. The Hollywood elite this film drew (Whoopi Goldberg as the voice of Blizzard! Brenda Blethyn, apparently redeeming a favor owed to Levar! Kevin Pollack!) held minor roles. There's nothing much to say. I didn't turn it off. It was a cute idea. It's the film you'd expect Levar Burton would make. The enjoyment I derived came from Kevin Pollack, who in this movie made lots of Jhawn faces. It was what kept me watching. I started to notice the same general coloring and eye set between Kevin and Jim's hubby. He made this one big frown face that, I swear, he contacted Jhawn to learn. If you have ever met Jhawn, you should watch Blizzard. If Jhawn were Jewier, there'd be no telling them apart.

The best thing Comedy Central has ever made is The Colbert Report. I got to see it twice yesterday (funny the TV we've missed while defeating Sin and riding chocobos!), and not many other shows made me laugh as loudly. There's a writer who should be fired or sent back to the Daily Show (not to say bad things, I love Jon Stewart as much as the next guy, but I'm a little tired of the show itself. The correspondants just aren't what they used to be. I do like the interviews (BARACK OBAMA!), but I can only watch a show for its host so many times), but the overall funny surpasses the hit-or-miss captioning.

So I just ran downstairs to get a cup of coffee, and I saw one of the new windows. It's so pretty! Lots of light coming in, no heat going out...the installer was kind enough not to comment on the burger pants, or the crazed look of desperation as I shakily poured my first cup o' joe.

November's Oprah Magazine is both interesting and relevent. But what's new?