Isn't it grand? Last night was so clear and chilly. It was intoxicating to open all the windows and feel and smell that cool breeze.
The house got so quiet - no more artificial humming and buzzing. I could hear only the cars whooshing over the bridge and the occasional tha-thumping of a car radio.
I spread the pink coverlet over the bed and snuggled under. The blinds stayed open so I could feel the moonlight. The sky was that nice deep indigo, and the faraway bridge lights so turquoise and crisp.
The first time ¡J! and I saw it, we kept exchanging glances across the couch, witnessing one crazy-ass scene unfold after another. Ohthatissosillynoway. Ohgoodgrief.
There is a cumulative effect of such thoughts. About halfway through the movie I hit the breaking point. I pitched forward and started howling and haven't stopped since.
This is my favorite scene, I think:
I feel like like a 14-year-old who just discovered Monty Python.
Now, when things get bad, I beg ¡J! to put the movie on and play some scenes. It's the only thing that sets the world right.