There's a good story about Danny Boy on an episode of DNTO. Podcast that shit.

But come ye back when summer's in the meadow, or when the valley's
hushed and white with snow.

I have watched Return To Me three times this week.

Also, I am baking bread, but the dough isn't rising, so I suppose this
is a foray into dismal failure.
I'm not bovvered.

Thinking about long journeys.
Thinking about Christmas.
Missing places like Rome.
Drinking nice french red wine alone in my apartment. My shelter.
Drawing a lot of inspiration from Winnie the Pooh.
Getting ready for romance. (another foray into dismal...whatever.)
My nails are painted a colour called "are we there yet?"
Old friends are close.
New friends make me laugh.
Middle friends are giving me sourdough starter, which I may have broken.
I need bread making tips. Sugar and egg and soy free bread making tips.
Officially a grown-up because I have recently purchased cleaning
supplies that I am very excited about.
Also, pressed play on Return To Me (again).
I am obsessed, and you can judge if you want. I don't mind, and I don't care.

Reflections on the movies.

One of the benefits of not having a day job, is weekday afternoon
matinees. So on this grey day, I took myself to see 50/50.
Vancouver is a good town.
This movie was so obviously filmed here, they made no effort to hide
it, yet it took place in Seattle. How weird it was to see the Space
Needle in the skyline at Hastings and Cambie. And then the main
character laments never having gone to Canada. Funny.
I liked how the Astoria was made into a cool nightclub too. If you
don't know, the Astoria is a very divey bar on East Hastings.
I liked the movie. It reminded me of Lisa. I cried, of course I cried.
I liked seeing my neighborhood in the movies. And my favourite sandwich place.

However, I was enraged by the previews. Hollywood is once again taking
a good story and totally fucking it up. The Three Musketeers is such a
good story. If they just stick to the adventure that is, and keep tiny
Hollywood hunks out of it, it could really be wonderful. The story
will speak for itself. Instead they are throwing in some steampunky
balloon ships and explosives and some high-wired female assassin.
Alexandre Dumas must be doing summersaults down there.