Right now I am drinking a cup of ginger tea and smoking a cigarette in front of this computer screen, still in awe of the film that I had seen about 28 hours ago. That film is "In Bruges", which I did not know existed upon watching said film, let alone that Bruges was in Belgium. The film is dark, neo-noir in the style of "Don't Look Now" and it's about a man who botched an assassination his first time out. It's also very comical, which was unexpected and the ominous score was phenomenal, which in my mind made the movie.

Anyway, stray observations on little known films aside, I am reconnecting with my french heritage, not that I have ever connected in the first place, aside from knowing of my mother's half-french ethnicity. I stole rosetta stone in french online, so I can be more cultured and yet learn another language that I don't use, except for when I actually one day decide to go to france or french-speaking canada, other than that, no one around me actually speaks the language, which is a shame. Whatever. We are who we are, and languages don't change that, I am just upset that I was born into middle class america and not some type of european aristocracy. I'll get over it.