I'm ill. Influenza. Man, I am miserable. This is the sixth day of it and I'm so tired of being sick I'm crying my eyes out. I'm quarrelling with anyone who comes near me, I'm yelling at my cats for being furry, I'm terribly upset because I just noticed the snails ate my lupins, and my body can't find any comfortable position, either upright or prone.
It's because I never get sick, you know. I have a really wonderful immune system, and I count on it to see me through everyone else's colds and sniffles and petty malaises. Sitting here sweating from the action of typing seems horribly babyish and I can't forgive myself for succumbing to a virus. God forbid I should ever contract an actual disease. I'd probably die of embarrassment. Nonetheless, here I am, and I really cannot lie in bed all the damned time even if I am feeling like death warmed over, so I'll bash out an entry in hopes of distracting myself.
On Saturday, which is the last time I did anything interesting, I went to see Wilde. The movie was uneven and, I believe, poorly directed, although the acting was excellent. Unfortunately, due to my illness I relived every single scene of this movie throughout the height of my fever which I frankly don't think it was up to. There was much male kissing in the movie, all of it rather overly dramatic and not particularly believable, although I did believe Oscar could have and would have fallen in love with the young man who played Bosie. This is entirely due to the excellent casting of Jude Law. My main reaction was, "I'll bet Stephen Fry enjoyed this." He played Oscar, giving the role a beautifully well-rounded and complex depth. I couldn't help remembering how he almost but not quite announced he was probably although not necessarily gay to the British press several years ago, round about the time he walked out in the middle of a play he was appearing in. Somehow his sexual orientation came up then. I always liked Stephen Fry, especially he and Hugh Laurie when they were doing Jeeves and Wooster. Anyway, the movie was okay but not great.
The other thing I did Saturday was buy four CDs at Tower Records (a store where they do not carry actual records any more, of course). I go to Tower a lot but I rarely buy anything except collections of greatest hits. I bought the greatest hits collections of XTC and Scandal. I know, I always buy stuff from the 80's. I like to be sure I'll want the whole album, you know, and not just fall out of love after I've heard the hit song. Yes, I'm a weenie, but I'm a picky weenie! Let me point out I also bought two things from the 90's: Savage Garden, which I don't like very much after all, and Suzanne Vega's most recent CD, which I like quite a lot. Sometimes I find British techno-pop-fluff quite soothing and cheerful, and sometimes it just doesn't move me. Too bad I spent $12 finding out this was the case with Savage Garden. You see why I tend to wait a decade or so. I suppose I can always try to sell it used and recover a little of the money.
Naturally, I've been in mourning over Ginger Spice quitting the Spice Girls. What a blow that must be to the youth of Britain and Pakistan and wherever else they're huge. Getting out while the getting's good, I guess. She could barely carry a tune so it can't be any great loss. Ah, how it recalls the days of Bros, and Ace of Base, and A-ha, and other one hit wonders. Heck, I even remember the one hit wonders of my early teen years still. I wonder what ever happened to the DiFranco Family? They were the brightest stars of Tigerbeat magazine when I was 13. Right up there with the Osmonds, actually, and they all ended up in Branson, Missouri, so perhaps it's best just to draw a veil...
Since I was on a British kick of some sort, and since by Tuesday I was completely slept out but unable to do more than walk around the house blearily, I opted to watch some videos. I ended up watching all of the recent Emma Thompson version of Sense and Sensibility, which fully deserved all the awards it won in 1995. The combination of locations, carriages, costumes, screenplay, and casting made it heartwrenchingly beautiful. Oh, those gorgeous stately homes and the lush southern English countryside! I could happily run wild there myself if only it were still 1795. Afterwards, I turned myself into a happy zombie by watching the entire 6 hour BBC production of Pride and Prejudice with Jennifer Ehle (who played Oscar Wilde's wife in Wilde). Colin Firth was a very fine Mr. Darcy, the locations were equally breathtaking, and I was left with a raging desire to buy a ticket to London immediately so I could wander through England and admire what is left of the great houses. But first, you know, I'd have to get out of my chair.
Alas, that has proven difficult. I actually went in to work yesterday, but this morning's relapse is very unpleasant, and so I am back home. I haven't watched any tv or videos today. I am putting up this long, rambling diary entry to keep my legions of fans, ha ha, assured that I'm not dead. I'm only miserable with 'flu.
