I'm supposed to go to IKEA on Friday for some necessary (yes, it's all stuff I *need*) housewares, and I blew my money on books last night.

It's not fair!

Damn Borders. The one book I wanted/needed, they didn't have--in the entire city. (How does this happen? It's not some obscure 18c. novel in Sanskrit. It's a mystery novel.) But they have this special deal right now (all the books you can cram into a bag get an additional 10% discount) and after a sadistic sonographer had me suffering an undue amount of time, book therapy was called for. (No, I can't drink any more water. No, I won't continue to hold it. I am rapidly approaching beached great blue whale-size, and I'd prefer to be sleek and, well, ME-size. So get to work, bitch. I have an appointment with a porcelain chair as soon as humanly possible and you're IN THE WAY) So, books on Greek military history? Done. Ancient Roman civ? Done. The missing Frank Herbert book? Done. Others I saw and grabbed, willy-nilly? Done. My money?

All gone. ::sniffle::

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In an attempt to shore up my faltering knowledge of the filmographic 'classics', I just watched both Cool Hand Luke and The Graduate. Well, I gotta admit: Paul Newman did a great job, but the only reason I kept watching was because it's supposedly such a great film. I don't disagree with that assessment, but I've seen better. And the sidekick guy? He's been in about 120 movies. Seriously. He's been in *everything*. As to The Graduate: I don't know if it's supposed to be so funny, but Doofus and I almost fell off the couch laughing a few times. (SCUBA gear? Hee. The inability to shut the hell up? *snort*) What was really weird--how much Tom Cruise resembled Dustin Hoffman at that age. It's very odd and disturbing, the more I consider it. Of course, it helps that I consider them equally (un)attractive, so I don't have that "oh, he's soooo dreamy" thing going on to protect The Tooth from ridicule.

So, yes--seminal works from the 60s. But if I have to hear one more "Plastics!" reference from some hip, well-meaning armchair movie buff, I might have to shoot back an entire "What we have here is a failure to communicate", complete with inflection and cadence. A vicious crew boss beats a drunk swinger any day.

**Interesting sidenote: the chick from The Graduate ends up being the therapist in Donnie Darko. It seems she likes to punctuate her westerns with forays into *seriously disturbed* movies.

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Is there anything greater than getting the new Discover magazine?