And, in other news, I now have whooping cough.

Or, more likely, not--though there were notices put in our mailboxes here that a student (to remain nameless) was diagnosed with it, I kind of doubt I have it. But whatever I do have has provided for a week of coughing which I always presumed was a sickness going away, but now has developed into a constant hack that has me confined to the dorm. I was going to DC this weekend for the March for Choice, and I'm pretty damn bummed I'm not there. I don't think I need to explain to you all how much I love the protesting, heh. But I'm at that point where your abs hurt like fuck (and you know that you'll have a nice six-pack after the whole deal) because of the constant nagging cough.

I really should be using the opportunity to get work done. I have a presentation on Monday (which, I suppose, any additional work I do on prior to 7:30 Monday morning is going to be work I would have never done at all) and I need a better draft of my Chick paper for Thursday's in-class discussions. But all I want to do is nap and watch movies.

So nap and watch movies I did! I watched a bad copy of a shitty remake of Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Really, they needn't to have remade the original at all. No "modern movie magic" will ever recreate the sheer what-the-fuck gore of the original (indeed, the remake even took out the dinner scene! TRAGIC) and, though the remake had a lot of scenes that would qualify as "nausea-inducing," I kind of think the original lent itself more to causing people to walk the hell out of the auditorium. I looked back at the old archives of this diary, but when I showed it last year, apparently I didn't write about how it was an audience of 40 or 50, and 10 or so people just walked out mid-movie. One of which said loudly, "Oh, god, I can't take anymore!" If a horror film can still make people leave 30 years later, it does not require remaking.

Willard, on the other hand...

I also watched Sunset Blvd. tonight. I'd never got around to seeing it, but, horrid stink of misogyny aside, it was a great film. Buster Keaton has a nice voice, actually, heh. Also--it's tragic that such glamour is now only reserved for drag queens. Seriously, women can't get away with taking up that much make-up and those airs anymore, as far as I can tell--Hollywood actresses are all glittery or hookery now, something lost with the copious, copious eye shadow. Still. At least the men can carry it on, right?

Okay, back to my abs-of-steel-with-3-easy-weeks-of-tuberculosis program.