It's official. I've gone insane.
So I'm riding the subway home from work the other day, and this woman gets on, and she's wearing the exact same J. Crew cowl-neck sweater that I also happen to own.
I felt this sudden need to go over and tell her I had the same sweater, as if we somehow shared some sort of bond.
Over a sweater.
It's not like they were even the same color. Mine is blue. Hers was red. And I wasn't even wearing it at the time.
Thankfully, my senses took over and kept me from making a complete jackass of myself by saying anything to her.
Last weekend my friend made me go see The Matrix: Reloaded. It was my own fault, really. There were three movies she wanted to see: Finding Nemo, X-Men 2, and The Matrix. I had no desire to see any of those, since I can't stand either animation or science fiction, but I made the mistake of saying that if I were forced to see one of those three, I'd see The Matrix, because at the very least, there was some minor curiosity over the special effects everyone was talking about.
Somehow, she construed this as an actual agreement to go see the movie with her, and I had no real way of getting out of it, especially since she had some free passes, and I wouldn't have to pay for it. Even after she explained the plot of the original Matrix to me, I left Reloaded wondering what the hell was going on, and, more importantly, what the hell the big deal was.
So yesterday, I rented the original, so that maybe it would all fit together, and I could better understand what was going on. I didn't. They are just two fucking stupid movies with some snazzy special effects. Blah. Whatever. Special effects do nothing for me if they are just trying to cover up the fact that there is either no plot, or a really lame one. And yeah, Keanu is certainly prime eye candy, but as soon as he opens his mouth, it's all over. Boy cannot act to save his life.
When the third installment comes out, you can bet no one will be dragging my ass anywhere near it, free or not.