Respite

I turned in my grades yesterday. They've made grade reporting a breeze: it's all done online, which works for me, because I keep spreadsheets all semester and can simply toggle between windows, tap in the grades, and be done.

We watched a Netflix DVD last night, House of Sand and Fog, about which I knew nothing except that Ben Kingsley had been nominated for an Oscar for his role. I vaguely remembered a snippet from the movie, that little bit they play at the Academy Awards when they read the list of nominees--Kingsley's character shouting "This is our house!" Our house!" at a distraught Jennifer Connelly--but that's really all. I didn't even know that it was based on an Andre Dubus novel.

So we were a bit open-mouthed at the last few scenes, where things just keep going from bad to worse (that's all I'll say--don't like spoilers--but don't look this movie up on Wikipedia if you want to be at all surprised during the film). What a downer! It reminded me of the time I mistakenly brought home Interiors one day when David was home sick from work: I'd thought a nice Woody Allen flick would cheer us up, but by the time the masking tape came out, we were both fully in the doldrums (and yet, as with House, we couldn't tear our eyes away until the bitter end). (And it wasn't entirely my fault with the Woody Allen mistake; it was his first serious drama.)