New York Diary: A Christmas Prince?
I saw Amy Schumer the other night at The Stonewall Inn. She was wearing a multi-color knit cap pulled down over her ears. My friend pointed her out to me.
I didn’t tackle her to the ground screaming, “Amy! Amy Schumer! I LOVE YOU!”
She stood around for 5 minutes and left. Not like I noticed or anything.
Björk lives across the street from me, I tell anyone who will listen. There’s a CVS next door to her building and I keep expecting to see her there buying make-up, glitter pens, and Smart water. Everyone has to go to CVS. Lena Durham is supposedly right around here too, but I couldn’t pick her out of a line-up.
I guess there’s a few stars at my gym. When I asked my trainer, I didn’t recognize any of the names he told me but I smiled like I did. One’s a mixed martial arts champion but I guess he’s sort of unpleasant and I don’t know what mixed martial arts is. I may have met him today though. He was using 2 machines at the same time and wouldn’t let me use the one he wasn’t using. I’m in my own earbud zone at the gym. Life has less impact with earbuds in. That could be a great selling point but earbuds don’t need my help.
Saw the Christmas Netflix movie tonight,. A Christmas Prince. Really, it was a prince of a movie. They repeat the name of the country- Aldovia – close to 40 times in the first 10 minutes. Every time “Aldovia” is mentioned with such gravatis, everyone in the room screams with laughter and throws maps of Europe at the screen. Had everything you could hope for; the earnest young woman on her first assignment as a “real” journalist, the misunderstood Prince, the crippled girl that bonds with the said journalist that wanders into the palace and is of course, mistaken as the new tutor and given her own room. There is the usurping ambitious cousin who you just know is a Republican and the striving ex-girlfriend of the Prince,. She somehow lives in the palace but no one seems to notice or care. There is of course the dead king, and the careworn queen whose only wish is to see her son to the throne, oh and horses. Our journalist protagonist stalks the Prince as he goes horseback riding, although he doesn’t hear her horse right behind him.
She’s thrown from the horse, wandering lost in the woods as night is descending, snow all around. As she stumbles in her weakened condition, she is nearly eaten by a wolf, so the Prince magically appears and rescues her.
Did I need to tell you that? You knew that already. Of course you do.
She had her big Cinderella moment at the ball. Remember the little crippled girl mentioned earlier? “You can do anything!” chirp chirp. Well, she got a glam squad together to turn out our journalist/poseur/intruder/tutor for the big reveal. Obligatory gasps of “Who is she?” across the ballroom.
IF THERE IS ONE MOVIE YOU MUST SEE THIS HOLIDAY SEASON, this is not it. But if you crave cotton candy fluffy, incomprehensibly ridiculous plot lines and are shallow like me, this one is the flannel jammie popcorn on the couch pick.