I don't understand some people. Oh, hell, maybe all of them. I can laugh and chat it up gratefully with a precious few and call them my friends -- people who act like they're my friends, anyway. The rest of it? A mystery.

Like my tenants. Maybe I don't understand them because they're my tenants.

I've never met one of my tenants. She's my tenant in Colorado and my Ex found her for me. She already owned a house (so why was she looking to move?), and had terrible credit (but who doesn't these days) and ultimately I took a chance she wanted the place for something other than a meth lab. She signed my Rental Agreement and -- so says my Ex -- she signed it willingly.

The Rental Agreement is about a million pages long and is that long because I created it myself with my Big Lawyer Degree. There's any number of caveats in there. She practically has to notify me -- in writing! -- every time she flushes the toilet. If I were a prospective tenant faced with a Contract like mine, I'd run!

One of the provisos is the Early Discount. If my tenants deposit their rent before a certain hour (yes, it is *that* detailed) on the due day, they can pay a reduced amount.

Recently, I had two voicemails. Phone message #1:

"Hi, this is [tenant]. I just wanted to let you know that I got stuck in traffic on my way to the bank, so I wanted let you know that I'm really going to pay my rent but it's not going to be by 2:30. It will probably be by 3:30. I hope that's OK. Ok, 'Bye!"

And phone message #2: "It's me again. I just wanted to let you know that I got to the bank at 3:15 and they promised that it would go in for today. Well, just in case, I went ahead and paid the late fee. Hope that's OK. Hey, I hope you had a great Christmas and New Year!"

Harrumph...?

My other tenant -- my next door neighbor -- called last week and shrieked at me and 'shriek' is exactly the right word. The most significant thing on her mind was that her leafblower broke last summer, while she was blowing leaves in my -- "your" -- yard. She was upset.

"I'm sorry the leafblower broke," I said, in the most soothing tone of voice, "but I don't ask you to use your leafblower on my yard. It is not in the lease that you are required to use your leafblower. I don't think I should have to pay for it."

There was a long silence on the other end, then, in a voice that sounded like she was being strangled, she said: "I've got another call coming in. I've gotta go!" and then she hung up.

The next time I saw her, everything was fine. I don't know what that was all about.

(Note to self: Add Leafblower Clause to Rental Agreements.)

I still have some work to do on my house. If I plan on moving away from here this year, I better get in gear.

I need to install the cornice in the Dining Room so I can then rip out the carpeting. I need to rip out the linoleum and the sink in the Kitchen so I can install a new sink and cabinet. I need to install a new sink and paint the bathroom.

Maybe this weekend. ha ha ha ha.

Also, I'd like to fiddle with my camera-phone more....

Hey, I'm in a snowboarding mindest - I'm allowed to use this word, dude.

One of the irritations of trying to pay down debt in recent years was my inability -- so I was told -- of being able to renegotiate my student loans. They had been at a low rate when I had consolidated them, but as rates plummeted, had since become impossibly high.

It was especially frustrating because, on average, I'd estimate that I get about two or three student loan consolidation offers a week cramming my mailbox and begging me to call them Before It Is Too Late.

But the card I received last week was different because it claimed, in writing right on the front, that I was eligible for a low, low rate Even If I had already consolidated...

So, I just called. And I was eligible. And I filled out the application in a matter of minutes on the web, with the customer service rep on the phone, printing out the confirmation.

I will be saving, on average, $150 per month -- PER MONTH! -- starting in about 4 - 6 weeks!

I'll say it again: SWEET!

All of a sudden, people have been e-mailing me about half-price airfare tickets. I really have to stick with a strict budget, but I have already purchased a few fares for long weekends in the next couple of months -- and I'm not yet done.

My one talented friend, the one who runs a film festival, has asked me to help him 'curate' a show in Florida in a few weeks. Yeah, there's quotes around the word 'curate' because I don't think that's what I'll really be doing. I'll be packing and shipping films, and maybe announcing the movies before the audience. It's outside of Miamia, Florida.

I'm a little apprehensive. I don't much like Florida. That probably sounds weird to a lot of people. I have a few good friends who live there, but everything is too new and too hot.

My friend likes doing the Club scene, and I'm psyching myself for that. I know exactly what women feel when they complain about Victoria Secret models. Let's face it, I'm 42 and I might as well be invisible in these clubs.

It wouldn't bother me if I was by myself, dancing and enjoying the music. I've taken myself out on the town like that many times. But my friend is younger, very tall and goodlooking in a classic way. He gets so much attention that, standing next to him, I feel like a dried-up turnip. Being mature about it, I guess I'm happy enough that this happens and, yeah yeah, left to my own devices I do just fine on my terms and on my turf. But being infantile, it reminds me of the Old Days and that I now have to pay for my drinks when I go out.

So I'm gearing up for an evening or two of that -- and maybe it won't be so bad after all.

The other flight I've just purchased is for Boston, where this spring, my other very talented friend is living. (I have only two friends, both of whom are very talented, hah!) We have plans to hit the movie houses, bookstores and restaurants. On that flight, I noticed I have a four-hour layover in Washington, DC. Perhaps I will meet my cousin's coworker for a drink and see if there's any 'magic.'

And I still have to purchase flights for Colorado and Nevada.

I have a good friend, someone with whom I talk about film, and we like to laugh about french films. Some life-altering event will occur -- someone will have been killed or raped, or had a huge blowout fight with their boss where they lose their job -- and then right after all of this, the character will be sipping coffee and asking for more sugar, or changing the oil in their car as the credits start to roll.

We could have been talking about a Pialat film.

When I heard they were showing french films an hour away, I decided to go. Sorta last minute. I had never heard of the guy, but why not? Something different to do on a Saturday night...

About halfway through the first movie, the woman next to me whispered "Is there a point to this?" And after the second, the people behind me sneered: "Sadness and depravity can be fun."

Me? I loved it! Here's a few reasons why.

First there was the cinematography. The light was studied, and then again not at all. Sometimes the colors were oversaturated like an old painting; at other times, they were washed out, sometimes so completely it was tough to make out much more than part of an image. In one part, the lighting changed during the scene, as if the sun had gone suddenly behind clouds. Other scenes used light strategically: silhouettes in lit doorways at the end of dark hallways while another character was focused in a foreground corner.

Then there was the camera work. A lot of hand-held scenes, the camera following the characters as they walked down streets or through apartments. We might follow a character into a room and the camera would stay focused on that character while they began a conversation with someone else off-screen. All you saw was one character's actions and reactions.

There was the scripting. A lot of it must have been improvised. Lots of ums and ahhs, people absentmindedly touching their faces, looking bored, just like people do in everyday life. Time would suddenly pass without a typical 'transition,' and you would have to watch and listen carefully (or in my case, watch the subtitles!) to see that someone was now married, had children, fallen on hard times or experienced a windfall.

I saw LouLou and A Nos Amours. I've read a few reviews, the general consensus is they are about awakening female sexuality. And while maybe that's partly true -- there was certainly plenty of sex! -- I got much more. To me, there were a lot of points. The 'awakening sexuality' and the characters' relationships with each other explored anything you or I might feel. The relationships change as the movie progresses, and how, by the end of the film, each has emerged as different people.

In Loulou, a woman abandons her husband for a petty criminal she meets at a club. She continues to sleep with her husband in his attempt to win her back, but eventually he's had enough and tosses her out. The movie does a good job of showing how she and her husband were more compatible -- basically good friends -- and also the husband's pain as he watches his wife slip away.

She stays with the criminal. Why? I got the impression -- maybe from all the sex, hah! -- he made her feel alive. And I say 'get the impression' because there are no epiphianic scenes where she or anyone else stops to say so, like they might tearfully reveal over coffee in an american film or soap or daytime talkshow.

At the end -- an ending that my friend and I would laugh -- she's come from having an abortion and waits for her guy on the street. He staggers from a bar, barely able to stand, and the credits roll as she helps him up.

A Nos Amours was much the same way. A 16 year old girl starts sleeping around. She seems to be desperately searching for something and not finding it. In the next-to-last scenes, she tells her father she's left her husband, running off with another man and the last scene freezes on her face looking out an airplane window. What is she thinking? It could be anything.

I loved it!

I plan to see the rest of the series here through the end of the month.