They're all out to get me.
The movie preview last night was excellent. It was a screening of the Film Perfume, directed by Tom Tykwer. Still in production, it was very good overall. Not only did I fill out the questionnaire, I participated in the discussion group afterwards. A few scenes are too long and the Titanic bit in the woods really needs the chop; the producer didn't agree but saw that every single one of us said, "Axe it" and may well comply. It's silly. The only other downside was Hoffman's horrid fake accent even though everyone else spoke with their UK or US accents, all the way up to the main character. Mook.
I'd never read the book and it took more than half an hour for me to realise it wasn't some at least vaguely historical piece. And because Tykwer directed, there are a lot of hot naked redheads. None of them run very far though, and there's no techno music. A female friend also attending told me she'd written the same comment about the redheads on her questionnaire, but she went even further and complained that not one of them was really a redhead. She's a redhead herself -- very dark brownish, but redhead nonetheless -- and sensitive to these things.
The woman leading the questioning wasn't doing a terribly good job (it doen't matter if I liked the film or character as long as each held my interest) so the producer finally got up and took over. After a few much better phrased questions, he then got wrapped up in the answers and started explaining himself almost defensively. Dude, if you have to explain it to me here, that means you failed to do so in the film itself. Don't defend, re-cut.
Some of us went for a beer afterwards and talked some more about the film; I didn't get home until after 1:00a.m.
This doesn't sound too bad, does it? Of course not. But these few hours of respite were only served by Fate in much the same way as a prisoner facing execution in the US is first hit with the very nice Pentothol.
I was awakened at 5:30a.m. by the dulcet tones of a jackhammer right outside my window. I hadn't quite got my minimum three hours of sleep and knew this would only be the start.
Attention People Riding the S-Bahn:After sorting out a few more customers who'd installed the latest Microsoft patch on their entire production environments without first testing, thus killing their entire 5,000-seat call center operations, I headed downstairs for lunch with a mate.
- Stop shouting into your damned cell phones
- Turn the damned sound off on the games and the buttons
- Turn your iPods and WalkMen down or get better earphones. I don't care if you go deaf (unless it's the reason you're screaming into those cell phones); I just don't want to hear that shit when I'm sitting at the other end of an 18m long car.
- Tourists and locals alike: your ticket entitles you to one seat, not a block of four. My ass needs that chair more than your luggage. What the fuck do you think those metal racks above the seats are for?!
- Attention lady whose handbag I finally, unceremoniously removed from the seat and dropped in the aisle: everyone on the train wished he was me at that moment you fucking rude bitch.
The floors in this building are highly-polished granite. If you were in charge of the cleaning schedule, would you have the staff mop the floors and make them almost frictionless
- early in the morning before workers get in
- in the evening after the workers have gone
- in the middle of the day when the building is full