Strange Fiction

I saw a movie last night at the discount theater with Tiffany:  "Stranger than Fiction," with Will Ferrel, Dustin Hoffman, Emma Thompson and more - it was wonderful.  But this flick is the PERFECT example of Marketing gone wrong.  From the previews I had inferred that the movie was going to be like "The Truman Show" with a different sketch artist plugged in.  What I got was a story about a man finally finding a life worth living and then faced with the knowledge that it would soon end.  Self-sacrificing and full of wit, this movie has inspired me.  For one, to re-approach my forgotten dream of learning to play one song, no matter how frivilous on my un-trusty blue guitar.  Second, to be more adventurous. 

At one point, at a particularly poignant scene, the main character presents his love interest with a box of flowers.

Or so I thought.  They were wrapped in little brown bags.

"What're they?  Bulbs in dirt or something?"  I whisper to Tiffany who turns to look at me, the screen glinting off her reading glasses.

"No - they're baking flours," she said. 

"Ohhhhhhh." I then cackle for a good two minutes at my own stupidity - and missing a very important exchange between the people on the screen. 

I had thought that this movie was based on a book - but if it's been written - I can't find it.  The website's pretty cute, but doesn't tell me what I want to know.

So, my advice for the day is to do one thing, no matter how small, that either scares you to death or embarresses you to no end.  And do it with a smile.

I plan on going to the big bad post office.  The place where fashion died, polyester thrives and attitudes and big hair prevail.  Wish me luck, I'm gonna need it.