The Yankees stomped on the Red Sox once again in a battle of aces, with Mike Mussina roundly outpitching Pedro Martinez for the win. I can't even begin to express how happy this series has made me. After a disheartening ninth-inning loss in the first game, the Yanks came back and really took charge in those last two games. Best of all, the rotation doesn't look like a total disaster area anymore.
Bring on October.
Yesterday's game against the Red Sox featured a pitching matchup between Yankee savior Orlando Hernandez and, um...Branson Arroyo. The Red Sox won because Cy Young and possible MVP candidate Mariano Rivera blew a one-run lead.
Today's game against the Red Sox featured a pitching matchup of mediocrity Jon Lieber and the also-mediocre Derek Lowe. Of course, the Yankees won in a complete blowout. Because that makes complete and total sense, right?
Remind me to never, ever try to predict the outcome of a baseball game again.
What I'm reading today: Buried Child, by Sam Shepard
I finally watched Shakespeare in Love for the first time, and I have to say it's horribly overrated. Is it good? Yes. It's sweet, moves well, and is pretty well-acted overall. But it's no masterpiece. All the Shakespeare in-jokes were cute, but they don't seem to make it Best Picture material.
Eh, whatever. The good things? Joseph Fiennes' enormous eyes make him great at playing a man desperately in love. Ben Affleck, when given the right role and not stretched too much, actually shows real charisma and acting ability. And Judi Dench is simply brilliant in a way that none of the other actors in the picture could hope to match. She commands the screen without effort, and not just because she's playing a queen.
The okay? Colin Firth does fine as the villain of this enterprise, but the role is barely two-dimensional. Gwyneth Paltrow is the picture of an Elizabethan beauty, but her chemistry with Fiennes was only okay. (I'm giving Fiennes more credit because of his pitiful puppy eyes.) Geoffrey Rush and Tom Wilkinson were wasted. And I guess this isn't really anyone's fault, but the original parts of the screenplay couldn't live up to the parts that used Shakespeare's words. The movie's best expressions of love were, of course, Shakespeare's, and somehow I don't think Will and Viola's quite love story lived up to them.
The slightly annoying? The Shakespeare in-jokes, which I guess were meant to make audiences with an undergrad degree feel smart because they could recall bits and pieces from their literature classes so long ago, but only served to show how the screenplay couldn't really soar without stealing from the master. And this might be because I'm feeling sour today, but the Puritan cheering the play at the end made me roll my eyes rather than cheer along. Please.
Anyway, I did like the movie in the end. It was very prettily shot, had some good humorous moments, and was filled from beginning to end with passionately delivered Shakespeare. As long as you don't think about it too hard, it's nice. But only Judi Dench was really magnificent.
I think you can guess who wins. (Warning- it's a a song the FCC most certainly wouldn't approve of.)
I know that two games do not a pattern make, but between Mike Mussina's eight shutout innings last night and Javier Vazquez pitching seven of them today, the rotation beyond El Duque is starting to look a little more solid.
Sure, Jason Giambi could be doing better, but the guy's been through a lot this season- a benign tumor, an intestinal parasite, a strained groin, and a respiratory infection. I keep expecting him to be attacked by locusts or something.
Kevin Brown probably won't come back before the postseason, the back end of the bullpen is awful, and heaven knows what's happening with Steve Karsay. And admittedly, this mini hot streak has come against Kansas City, which isn't exactly Murderer's Row. But still- those two are looking a whole lot better than they have for most of the season. Hopefully they're getting it in gear for October.
What I'm reading today: A Midsummer Night's Dream, by William Shakespeare
What do Hugh Jackman and Matt Damon have in common? Lets see: they're both actors, both ridiculously good-looking, both played amnesiac ex-assassins who killed evil Brian Cox, and oh yes- how could I forget?
They both gave Barbara Walters a lap dance yesterday.
So. Not. Fair.
I just realized what day it is. I think I'm going to cry.
I just got back from watching My Neighbor Totoro and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. I was just bursting with good movie happiness until I got back to my hall, which has somehow managed to become even smellier this weekend. Someone who came to visit described the odor as a mixture of cigarettes, body odor, and urine. Which makes sense, since someone's been going around peeing on the doors here.
No, I'm not joking.
Anyway, the movies were wonderful. Did I mention I'm having mood swings? My Neighbor Totoro is what every children's movie should aspire to be- funny, strange, and sweet without being saccharine or insisting on teaching a Very Important Lesson at the end. And the title character has to be seen to be believed. :) If I'd started out watching this kind of anime instead of the crap they show on Cartoon Network, I night actually like the genre. No robots, no spaceships, no 5-minute speeches about how you're going to beat someone up. What a wonderful concept. Hayao Miyazaki rocks.
The second movie I watched was Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind for the second time, something I've been longing to do since...well, the first time. The movie's twisted timeline makes a second viewing practically required. It's amazing the little details in acting, direction, and even scenery that become important when you watch the movie twice. And as in the first viewing, the central relationship between Joel and Clementine was as genuinely romantic as anything I've seen in movies. Sometimes you become so used to romantic "chemistry" being generated by certain hackneyed script points and acting techniques that seeing the real thing is a shock. Especially when it's between Jim Carrey and Kate Winslet, of all people. I guess that in the insane world of Charlie Kaufman, truly anything is possible. He rocks, too.
For a half-credit class, Musicianship is causing me way too much trouble. That class is like a one-hour "pleasepleaseplease don't call on me" nightmare. Then, of course, I get called on to sight-sing, which I can't, and I quaver and sing the wrong notes, which no one else seems to do.
I think now would be a good time to overcome my fear of singing in front of people.
Having a lot of homework shouldn't make me feel exhausted and depressed for days at a time- otherwise I would have been on Prozac since high school. And taking a nap then finding out that someone else in my hall likes cast recordings shouldn't make me feel downright chipper a few hours later.
Clearly, I am suffering from the world's stupidest case of PMS. Bleh.
Yesterday my iPod wouldn't work for a while. The buttons didn't function, the computer didn't respond when I put it in the port, nothing. Of course, I freaked out, but then had to go to class so I couldn't do much about it. When I came back, strangely, the iPod worked. So much for that crisis. Still, you know my life's a little pathetic when the thought of losing my precious mp3 player has me quaking with fear. :P
In other news, I'm really really tired. I spent way too long writing an absolutely awful essay for Political Theory last night. So now I'm going to take a nap (for one hour, I swear) and then wake up and edit the hateful thing, since thankfully it was just a first draft.
I know I'm supposed to be working, but this link must be read. By you. Now.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to scrub my brain.
What I'm reading today: Gorgias, by Plato
Even before last night's Big Smelly Party of Doom, I really didn't find much to love about my new dorm except the spacious room and the fact that it was located among trees, which mitigates the heat. I have to say, though, I've been overly harsh on it. There is a printer after all. And a really small malfunctioning TV. Silly me; I looked for them on the main floor. They're in the basement. *sigh*
Okay, I still don't like this dorm. And it still smells. Ew.
Evidently we're the new party dorm. Everything smells like cigarette and pot smoke, there's a keg in the room next door (I think they drank it all because they were talking about getting more beer), and now our neighbors are laughing hysterically at nothing in particular.
I'm trapped in my room because every time I go outside I practically choke. I want to take a shower.
I didn't come to college for this.
I think El Duque is becoming the anchor of the Yankees' rotation.
I'm scared.
What I'm reading today: Four Plays by Aristophanes, by Aristophanes (duh)