Well, the movie I saw last night turned out to exceed my expectations. I knew it was going to have a fantastic performance by Xavier Bardem, because he's up for an Oscar, but the film itself is gorgeous and touching and each character is complicated and a complete human being. "Biutiful". What a knockout. It's set in Barcelona, and it's a Barcelona I've never seen. The city of the poor, the illegal immigrants, the lost. There are no Gaudi avenues and picaresque squares. And the peoples' faces are real. Bardem is brilliant, and there is no overacting or melodrama. The suffering is played down - an every day occurrence. See it before it leaves.
Today I have my annual appointment with my doctor, so perhaps seeing a movie about a man dying of cancer wasn't the wisest choice from that point of view. Oh, well. I dread these visits as much as the next guy, and don't want any surprises. At my age, it's seldom a good thing. Now, if only I'd lost the ten pounds I intended to, or at least been on a liquid fast or something. I'll have to think light when I get on the scale - balloons, feathers, soap bubbles. The the blood pressure! It goes up just thinking about the cuff, and I forget to breathe, and I'll be lucky if I don't hyperventilate.
I'm reading a great book that is partially about hypochrondria. "A Spot of Bother" by Mark Haddon, who wrote "The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime". He's so funny, and tender and wise. Hopefully, reading will keep me in a good frame of mind until my exam.
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