twenty-something

Because, clearly, I would rather see any kind of cinematic trash than watch anything on any critic's "Best Of" list this awards season, I saw Jennifer Gardner's new rom-com, Catch and Release last night. 'Twas a cute movie and a fun little date night with a certain hot blonde. I'm discovering that I really like movies without any kind of pretention -- and this movie certainly wasn't putting on any airs. It was what it was, and I thought it was fun.

Worth the price of admission alone is Sam Jaeger (above, and right), perhaps the most perfect man I've ever seen. He's a decent actor and the epitome of my archetypical type. His performance isn't anything that extraordinary, but he does a good job as an unrequited everyman. Plus, he's so damn handsome it hurts. Add to the fact that his character a rugged, sensitive outdoorsy man in Boulder, and I'm hooked.

(Insert fisherman joke here.)

Sam Jaeger (how hot is that name?) -- will you marry me?

And since I'm clearly delusional, we can totally have a threeway ceremony with George and Callie and Burke and Christina.

It's cold here in Boston today or, rather, freakin' freezing. And while most are complaining (Yelli is annoyed that everyone is asking her "Cold enough for ya?"), I'm downright thrilled.

Yes, it is cold enough for me -- because, I have to confess, I love cold and I love cliches. It's not winter until it's in the single digits or lower. The end of January is simply too late in the season for this. Spring won't feel earned when it finally arrives in a few months.

So I'm happy because the cold is what I'm used to and it reminds me of home -- but I'm really thrilled to be wearing my favorite one piece union suit for this first time this year.

There's something about the form-fitting second skin under my civilian clothing that makes me feel like a mormon lumberjack, and I like it. I feel warm, practical, sexy, and turned on, just by my underwear.

And in case you were wondering -- mine's red, too.

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When Semele found out that her lover, the one who had found her out of the multitude, was really Zeus -- not just a god, but the king of the gods, and not just the king of the gods, but the married king of the gods -- in disguise as a mortal... well, she freaked out. She was unknowingly having an affair with a god. But now she knew. What the hell was she supposed to do?

He loved her, he said. A god loved her. And though she knew better, she still insisted that her great and glorious boyfriend prove that love by appearing as a god before her, and giving her his embrace. Knowing that he was a god, and knowing that he belonged to Hera, Semele made her fatal request.

But no mere mortal can survive that knowledge. No mere mortal can withstand the sight of the mighty Zeus.

She made love to her married, godly boyfriend, knowing full well who and what he was.

And for that she was consumed. For that she burned.

Haven't gotten anything but Russel Crowe in ages (though *cough* I do still get it). What do you think? Do I look anything like Millar?

I'm home in Rutland for the night, after a white-knuckled, horribly snowy Friday night drive north and two nights in Burlington. It's my mama's birthday (the "excuse" for the visit), and it's been a good trip. Reunions and renewals all around, perhaps some of which I'll write more about later.

This was only my second trip to Burlington since my exodus last June (I went up briefly back in August). The place is still so comfortable that it instantly felt like home again, even after such distance. Being back was great -- old ghosts seemed far away, old friends still felt close, and the trip was entirely positive -- and at times it felt like no time had passed. But time has, indeed, passed, and I'm happy with where I'm at. BVT's still my favorite place in the world, but I'm not moving back anytime soon.