
I watched Lost In Translation again on sunday night. I think the transition from Sunday night to Monday morning is such a lonely one to make, I'm surprised I don't watch it every sunday night. It had it's usual hold on me all evening and I finally gave in at about 12:15. This morning I thought, in quite a lot of detail, what happened after Bob went home and John returned from his trip. Bob was easy enough I think, but I had a lot of trouble with Charlotte... Oh well, hopefully the next time I watch it (8th time) I'll still get the same feeling as the first seven. I don't know how it does it.
