2002-09-03 | 5:53 p.m.

corduroy licorice had a pressing concern. he didn't know how to get his shirt ironed in time for his big date.

***

it was great, thank you for asking.

lots of female bonding. good food. good movies. good sleep. even a surprisingly good band that was stumbled upon. but back to the movies...

first up was a girl surf flick called blue crush that a-d-d-chick invited me to see. it was dumb, summery and fun, but we still managed to squeeze a film critique out of it as we climbed the eight floors to her car.

following weakly was the smug, airheaded simone. i had to apologize to musing for making her see it. we, too, had a good time analyzing its flaws afterwards, though. it was like tootsie meets wag the dog, and wag the tootsie does not a good movie make.

then i saw the provacatively titled amy's orgasm. it was like a watered-down version of the low-budget "single woman struggling with relationship neurosis" tale of kissing jessica stein, but was breezily enjoyable all the same.

next up was the french film i'm going home. i expected it to be a semi-sentimental story about an aging man and his young grandson recovering from a tragic loss. the pleasant surprise is that the cowriter/director manoel de oliveira didn't play any pretentious or predictable notes. he used the lead character's profession of acting to tremendous effect�especially in the opening scene. quite quietly stunning. sad, but true. i guess by the age of 93, a guy has learned a thing or two about how to tell a story.

now i have to go floss the popcorn out of my teeth. later.

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