Romeo, Romeo, Wherefore art thou, Romeo?
I watched Baz Luhrmann's Romeo and Juliet last night, which I purchased because of the "tremendous amounts" of special features, including interviews with the cast and crew. But these interviews, specifically the ones I was most interested in - the costume designer, Leonardo DiCaprio, and Claire Danes - were terribly short. Although it was interesting to see teenaged Leonardo and Ms. Danes trying to wrap their minds around their characters and truly understand Shakespeare, because while their statements sort of betrayed them, the acting in the movie is fairly well-done (except Claire Danes has some shitty parts, to be honest).
And how
freaking dreamy is Leonard DiCaprio in that movie - he sealed his heartbreak status with a sandy, bloody kiss because of
that movie. Funny - in his interview, he said that he'd like to still be making good choices in 10 years, and when I finally stopped all the features at 3am, Byron Allen was interviewing Mr. DiCaprio for the Aviator. Ahh coincidences. Sometimes they aren't far enough apart.
I've been reading a lot of blogs lately, mainly of people who use the tagline: "Mostly this is just a place to practice my writing" just to see how their writing is, and some of these people, mainly girls (I hate to say that, I really do) --> the writing is god-awful. Ugh. Gag me with a spoon AWFUL. It's so mope-mope-mopey. Then I came back to my diary, feeling like Napoleon, and when I read my own shit, I thought... eGADS. This has GOT to STOP, my diary is terrible. Although I never claimed this to be a place to "practice my writing," I really don't see any difference between mine and that which really fucking sucks. Ugh. God save the queen, God save this diary -- what's the remedy? More booze? You're
so right. Definitely more booze.
2005-04-25 | 12:27 p.m.
