For this week's meal, I'm going to stretch the definition of dinner back to the days of yore when it really meant the afternoon repast. I enjoy a good repast and sometimes one of Dartmouth's fine eateries just doesn't cut it; there are only so many salad combinations I can make at Collis and I have heard Chicken Mondays are no more (to all the men I know, I am deeply sorry for your loss).
At those points of lunchtime boredom, I like to spice it up with some Mai Thai lunch buffet ($9.16 a head). I was never allowed such things of luxury as a buffet when I was a child. Now that I'm a free soul it's game on. I look at the buffet like I look at any all-you-can-eat: as a challenge to beat the restaurant out of a profit. Call it my personal protest against capitalism.
I went for some vegetable yellow curry, spring rolls, egg rolls, pad thai, salad and a hot and spicy tom yum soup (I'm a growing girl okay? I did it for the article! I went for a long walk around ... the Green afterwards ... oh God, don't look at me! I'm a whale!). I did not have the grey Jell-o diamonds that jiggled ominously at the end of the buffet, but a dining companion of mine claimed they were coconut and decent. I remain skeptical.
The buffet also was laden with rice, chicken curry, red sticky dry noodles and fried rice. There's no arguing that it's a great deal and one of the only ways to eat in Mai Thai and get out in less than two -and-a-half hours. And you still get the speedy water refill service, not to mention the probability that you won't have to pay for dinner that night either; I was full until about 10 that night and didn't throw up once (a symptom some buffets of the Asian persuasion seem to induce). So when you've gone through all the paninis at Homeplate and the soup at Collis is "Chef's Choice," check out the Mai Thai lunch buffet and fight the man.
Speaking of the man, Teach for America was at the career fair. I thought to myself, "Me? Teach? America? Hmm, possible I guess." Then I saw "Half Nelson." Don't teach. Teaching just leads to crack cocaine and dead cats. And I like cats. But apart from the movie's warning against the dangers of teaching for America, "Half Nelson" fully lived up to its poster (and it was a particularly pleasing poster).
Gosling plays that crack addict friend you always wanted to have: that intellectual writer turned cokehead who would really complete your repertoire of friends. I'll say this of his performance: it was worlds away from "The Notebook." Is that a good or bad thing? That's really up to you. If you like things like autumn leaves, passionate love and bad movies then it is a bad thing. If you likes things like spectacular child actresses, nonchalant treatments of the drug world, and engagingly brilliant combinations of linkage, soundtrack and images then it is a good thing. To address the child actress let me say that she is just as good as Gosling and I slightly want to be a 13-year-old inner-city child now. I am so not half as cool as she is and that's saying a lot for her because I am awesome. Ask anyone, anyone who I have recently given money to.
Other good points? On a serious note, this movie treated drugs perfectly. It didn't over address the issue but instead relied upon the relations between the characters to carry the movie rather than try to make itself into a nouveau "Requiem for a Dream" or public service announcement (didn't you know kids? Coke gives you nose bleeds. And nobody likes a bleeder. The more you know). On a more personal note, I felt at home with the movie because I apparently have the same skin tone as a crack addict. I am currently lacking the deep purple rings around my eyes but you just wait until it's finals time. I will be the spitting image of one. It's just nice to know that there's always some people I will look normal around with my translucent skin.
Is this a movie you want to see when you need a good laugh? Nope, though I did chuckle once or twice. It's a good movie to see when you need to be convinced that your life is going okay, because even if you are a crack addict you're living in a better room than Gosling and hey, your cat didn't just die. (Unless it did, in which case I'm sorry and I'd like to take a second to give a shout out to Balthazar, my recently deceased Egyptian Mau. Word up buddy, word up indeed.)
