HRH and I went out to see Ratatouille last night. It was brilliant. It’s a well-paced film that tells a decent story that didn’t make comedy its only reason to exist, humour well-done enough to make a crowd of sensible adults laugh, and of course, gorgeous gorgeous visuals that floored us. There’s a storm drain scene that had me feeling cold and wet and drowny, and a kitchen chase sequence that kept astonishing me over and over, just when I thought it had reached its limit.
A: Who storyboarded this?
HRH: A god.
There was a short with no dialogue before the feature. It too was brilliant and had grown men who weren’t my husband giggling like kids. And there were no trailers. The lights went down and we went right into the joy that is Pixar. There was a brief introduction and the barest hint of a tease for their 2008 feature, then the short, then the main feature.
It was a great night out. It was also very odd, because HRH and I don’t go out very often. We went to the late show because the earlier evening show started before Liam’s bedtime, so we left at 9 and came back at 11:45, then slept surprisingly well. No one woke up till 7:30, which is also odd, as Liam has been waking up around 5:30 wailing recently. (We think the damn molars are moving again.)
Today I have to go to the license bureau to finally get the Medicare/driver’s license thing done. It didn’t happen last week because we walked in, saw the crowd of people, and HRH said, “I can’t spend two hours here, I have to get back to work,” so we turned around and walked right out again. Then I forgot about it, and only remembered this morning when I looked in the mirror and saw the wreck the dampness has made of my hair. Naturally this is the year I have to have a photo taken.
This is one of those days where I wish I could just shut down and wake up again tomorrow morning. My head is muzzy, the weather is meh, and I feel rather flat.