quenten

I had a good long weekend, staying home yesterday because of my glorious hacking cough which not only got me out of class but scored me some hydrocodone-infused cough medicine. If this entry is laced with more typographical errors than usual, that is why.

I saw many movies. Napoleon Dynamite is pretty much as funny as everyone says it is. Frida was good, but not as good as Taymor's Titus. It was worth it, however, if only to find out that Frida Kahlo and Leon Trotsky had a brief affair. That has to be pretty near the top of the Hot Historical Bedfellows list. This list also includes Howard Hughes and Katherine Hepburn. Speaking of which, The Aviator was very, very good. It was one of those movies that really stays with you afterward. Very intense. The scenes of Howard Hughes wallowing in his paranoid OCD universe freaked me out, but not enough to make me start taking my Lexapro. Finally, I saw The Motorcycle Diaries. Holy crap that Che Guevera was hot. You say you want a revolution... in my pants? What?

Okay, now I'm just embarrasing myself. There was something else to say, but it must not have been of grave importance.

I think at the beginning of every 200 level course they should have a brief general aptitude test, and if you know the difference between "its" and "it's," you should be excused from all manner of paper-writing in said course. Just a thought.