It's only a stab in a wet paper bag
My boyfriend would make a hell of a wife. Just kidding, you sexist pigs. You can't have him or his deee-lish pot roast.

I didn't see the winning films, but I know who won. Guess you'll have to pick up a Monday Sidelines to get the details.

I finished The Passion, and it was, of course, magnificent. Just as I was beginning to fantasize about what a brilliant film it would make, I learned that Miramax has already bought the rights and the waify Gwenyth Paltrow is already on board (my guess would be to star as Villanelle, though she doesn't have red hair). I'll reserve judgment until I see it, and then I'll dish it out with force.

I can't believe that a month from tomorrow I'm moving to Birmingham. I don't have a place to live yet and it's starting to give me anxiety. I need to go down there this week and find a place. Phil says I should room with someone, but I don't know anyone and I really think I need to not do that. My parents told me they'd help me as much as they can, which won't be a lot, now that my mom is unemployed, but that will help ease the burden. Mostly I'm dreading the creeping loneliness that comes with settling in a new city. I'm not the only one facing that hurdle in the coming months.