2002-06-22 | 10:59 p.m.
I wish I liked coffee.

I watched Magnolia today, and surprisingly, I really liked it. I don't know why I was so averse to it the first time. I actually enjoyed the entire 3 hours. I always thought the film-making was brilliant as was the acting, but the concept seemed too pretentious for my liking. I'm still not sure about the scene where they sing along to 'Wise up', but it doesn't come across as cheesy as it would in any other movie. Oh, and of course, the first time around, I didn't catch on to the theological subtext at all, so the frog-rain seemed too bizarre. I've been listening to the soundtrack a lot lately. I love how the music is used in the movie. Especially when Claudia is playing 'Momentum'. In fact, she looks a lot like Aimee Mann to me.

I have a splitting aspartame headache right now. I really should stop drinking so much diet coke, but it keeps my stomach full most of the time. Mama told me today how she was proud of me for not abusing my body - it's alcohol, drug, nicotine and almost caffeine free - but I do it harm in many other ways that she won't accept. Oh well, what can one do? We went to the coffee shop at the Regent this evening. It was nice, sitting there with her, watching the waves crash on the rocks, the rain fogging the glass. All I had was a diet coke (surprise!) and she had mangoes with ice-cream and glazed cherries. We spent almost 90 minutes there, just talking about Cozihom in the early days, what everyone was like thirty years ago. Who was dating whom. Who was pressured into marrying whom. Who looked like what. History, of any kind, fascinates the hell out of me.

The earlier part of the evening wasn't quite as pleasant though. Before we left for The Regent, I had a minor situation. I wore my new corduroys and the blue TOPSHOP shirt, and stood in front of the mirror for several minutes, my lips trembling and tears threatening to spill over. Everytime I look at my reflection, I get shocked at how ugly I am. Every single time. Mama came up behind me to comb her hair, and I put my arms around her waist and cried for a bit. "Why am I so ugly,Mommy?", I asked her over and over. "You're not,baby...you're not", she reassured me. It's getting harder and harder to accept myself. Going through all of this alone is silently killing me. Death just seems so safe and warm in contrast to all the internal chaos...

It's rude to not respond to a text message. Especially when it's one wishing you a Happy Birthday.

Song for the day: Deathly - Aimee Mann

deja vu? | jamais vu?