time of the season

Something about November is always a little weirdy in my life. Whatever, maybe I'm just a baby, but if things are gonna get weird in a year, it'll usually get weird in November. So, that's why I'm glad I went to see Where the Wild Things Are in November and not in October or December. I may not have been prepared. I saw it at the Somerville Theatre, I didn't even know they showed movies, I'm so out of touch. Remember we saw the magnetic fields there? Man, if it weren't for you, there are so many good good things I wouldn't have done. But anyway, I hated it. I wonder if you've seen it and how you feel about it, and I don't want to ruin it for you, but really there's not much to ruin. I just mean, it seems like the kind of movie people are either hardwired to like or not like, and no amount of someone telling them about it will change that. Writing all that, though, I'm starting to not want to say more. Let's just say that although I generally like Spike Jones, I wish Wes Anderson made it instead. I think it needed more hardcore hipster quirk and less depressing dialogue. And more Catherine Keener, but I guess that can't be helped with the story and all. When was the last time I was so disappointed by a movie? Maybe it's the high expectations that are screwing me over. I just kept wanting to leave the theatre, like, get away from the movie. What I really want is to talk to someone who loved it so I can ask them why and maybe get in touch with something redeeming about it. I also want to watch some of my classic favorites (I keep thinking of Magnolia) and try to figure out why I like them so much and how movies I love develop characters in subtle, acceptable ways so I can find the deficit in this movie. Sounds like a lot of homework for hating one movie, huh?

I also caught up on the office today and it's not making me laugh. Neither is 30 rock. Has my heart grown cold? Well, I have a lot of questions today.