do you know my poetry?
So.
So I’ve had a teensy bit of trouble focusing at work lately. This has to stop. I don’t know what it is, but I’ve actually found myself staring off into space a few times. When I’m more actively idle, I—ahem—compose blog entries. I also tend to read a lot of articles online. Specifically, I’ve lately been addicted to a couple Morrissey message boards. I’m desperate to see him again. Manchester did nothing but whet the appetite.
My other at-work-but-not-HARD-at-work reading material has lately consisted largely of old movie reviews. Mostly movies I’ve already seen. You know, seeking approbation or, alternatively, cause for indignation.
I like Johnny Depp.
So. I’ve now read—I believe—all of the New York Times’ reviews of movies starring Mr. Depp. And because I am a pathetic teenaged girl trapped in a pathetic almost-30 girl’s body, I need to quote a few things for you here.
Funny:
“Part of the movie’s drollery is that Mr. Depp is probably prettier than the hookers he is questioning…” —Elvis Mitchell, reviewing From Hell
Drollery! Ha!
True:
“In Hollywood in the middle months of 2003, wit and surprise are pretty much synonymous with Johnny Depp. —A.O. Scott, reviewing Once Upon a Time in Mexico
SO true.
Swoon:
“Johnny Depp has the kind of face that justifies the existence of cinema. You would have to go back to the young Montgomery Clift, or perhaps to Greta Garbo herself, to find facial bone structure so perfectly suited to the shimmering subtlety of the screen. Yes, Mr. Depp is a gifted actor, but his talent for dramatic understatement is sometimes overwhelmed by his sheer charisma. Though he makes even dull films watchable—you can’t take your eyes off him—his enigmatic reserve can make everyone else look like a shameless ham.” —A.O. Scott, reviewing Blow
Wow.
And, my personal favorite, for validating/confirming me as a “thinking woman:”
“…perennial thinking woman’s heartthrob Johnny Depp…” —Janet Maslin, reviewing What’s Eating Gilbert Grape
What’s that? Oh. Yes. Yes, as a matter of fact, occasionally I do wonder if I’m just a bit overly “into” Johnny Depp, as they say. Perhaps even inappropriately so for my age. I mean, yeah, he’s 41. (And don’t raise your eyebrows at me. I had to look it up.) He can take care of himself. But still, I am sort of old to have a Dear-Mr.-Gable-style crush. I’m supposed to be a “grown woman,” after all. (A co-worker actually called me this once. It bothered me for days.)
Same goes for my Morrissey fixation, which has been ratcheted up about a thousand and ten notches ever since Manchester, what with the aforementioned message boards, the downloading of BitTorrent files of his appearances on Craig Kilborn, the search for rare singles on eBay, the over-enthusiasm directed at perfectly innocent teenaged Dairy Queen workers just because they happened to play You Are the Quarry on the store’s system and the track happened to be “Come Back to Camden” when I walked in. Etc.
BUT—all that said—I just felt absolutely, completely okay again after reading this:
“In what I can only assume to be a sign from whomever was looking down on me, we were in the car listening to KIIS FM, LA’s radio station that plays ‘all of TODAY’S hits.’ And guess wath [sic] comes on the radio? A song that is at LEAST 5 years old (probably more). What song, you ask? Why none other than the song I set my last Orlando tribute video to.”
Yeah. I am so okay.