The movie was good, but it didn't change my life. I got taken in by the "masterpiece" hype, but I've got to say it was a bit silly. Bottom line, it's an Italian movie: everything looks fantastic, there's at least one hysterical female crying "Marcello! Ma che...!", it's intelligent but not as deep as it thinks it is, and when a guy is murdered in the woods it has to be done with knives, in slow motion, for maximum effect, even though his pursuers have the guns to shoot the guy's wife immediately thereafter. Then again, I have to admit that Dominique Sanda is a force of nature. I think my dad has always secretly wanted to run away with her.
I'm reading How Proust Can Change Your Life. I highly recommend it. I tried to read In Search of Lost Time one winter break from college, I got maybe fifty pages in and quit. But this book actually makes me want to go back for another try.
I've got a kickass new bread recipe, for oatmeal sandwich bread. It actually came out too soft and puffy, the last thing I expected. It's a lot fluffier than Wonder Bread, and it tastes fifteen times better, with perfect little oatmeal flecks for extra chew. Toasted, with Marmite, it's the food of the freakin' gods. I'm going to try using some whole wheat flour for extra whole-grainy goodness and see if that makes it a little earthier.