There's a lady in a turban in a cocaine tree, and she does a dance so rhythmically

Yesterday, I had a post about halfway written about St. Patrick's Day, but it was tough going and about midway through, I gave up. I was tired, I guess, or maybe the quality was poor, but whatever the cause, it wasn't published. Basically, I was just riffing on how, despite being Irish, I have little interest in the holiday. I hardly drink and I'm not prone to wearing green, even on special occasions. To me, the holiday has almost nothing to do with the Irish, at least not in a favorable sense. Change the name to St. Get Hammered Day and we're closer to the mark.

I have the Bruins game on in the background as I type. I've hardly watched them all season, mostly because I don't find the team appealing, but tonight's game has a lot of fanfare surrounding it because of Matt Cooke's egregious hit on Marc Savard that left him heavily concussed and most definitely out for the season. No one on the Bruins defended the honor of their fallen comrade and neither did the league. No retribution came Cooke's way. So tonight is the Bruin's chance to redeem themselves, to save face in front of their fans. I don't think much will happen, but I'm curious.

I was reading from The Cryptoterrestials on the couch last night with Baby Boy Z beside me. I had my knees pulled up and BBZ used the nook that was created to rest his head and catch a little shut eye. Out of nowhere, he sneezed right into my butt. It wasn't just an "ah-choo"; no, this was heavy and abrupt: "Uhh...bwuh bwuh bwuhhhh!" It scared the hell out of me, and once my heart settled down, I thought it was the funniest thing. I've never had anyone sneeze into my ass before. A first.

I watched Cache last night, the French thriller I've been interested in seeing for a while. When it came out a few years ago, it generated a lot of buzz. And a massive amount of theorizing. Unlike most mainstream thrillers, this one didn't resolve it's mystery and left the viewer with more questions than answers. We're educated as film goers to leave a movie with all the loose ends tied up. Here, there are numerous possibilities and none of them are tied up. I've perused different websites that speculate endlessly about the film. "It was so and so who was leaving the video tapes"; "The last shot of the film explains everything -- you just have to look carefully"; "It was the father sending tapes to himself."

The film was so well crafted that it keeps it's mystery hidden, while letting it known that it can be deciphered. Or maybe not. Either way, it's a great film with a lot of little cool things about it and I've been thinking about it all day. Especially the ending, which at first I thought was cheating me, but when I figured out what it suggested, I was thrilled by it. Here's a link to Roger Ebert's review:

http://rogerebert.suntimes.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=%2F20100113%2FREVIEWS08%2F100119986%2F1023

If you aren't put off by subtitles and like putting on your detective hat, then I wholeheartedly recommend this film. Hell, even if you disregard the mystery of the film, it still works on other levels. Go ahead, give it a try. Don't be scared.
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Ok, I'm done. I was as busy as a tennis ball in a room full of puppies at work today and I need to regroup.