I've rediscovered my love for movies. After watching City Lights again, I watched a few of my favorite scenes from my favorite movies (the bloody baptism from The Godfather, the rainy day conversation between Ben and Mrs. Robinson from The Graduate, the heated first meeting between Phyllis and Walter in Double Indemnity, Gene Kelly sings the title song in Singin' in the Rain, the death of Bonnie and Clyde, the opening murder exposition scene from Sunset Boulevard and the Christopher Walken driving scene from Annie Hall). On those rare occasions in which I don't have something to read before bed, I'm going to watch as much of a movie as possible (before I fall asleep). Tonight, after I read The Prisoner of Azkaban, I'm going to rewatch One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest.

I'd forgotten the days from college when I'd watch anything just to satsify my unceasing love of film. I'm not claiming to be a movie expert; nor do I claim that my taste in movies is superior to anyone else's (well...I do know a lot about movies, but that's besides the point). I will say, though, that there's really nothing I'd rather do than watch a movie that fits my mood. If I'm in the mood to hone my scholarly film preferences, I love checking out something as pretentious as, say, 8 1/2 or The 400 Blows. However, if it's a dull, rainy day, and all I want is eye candy, I'm not beneath watching Gentleman Prefer Blondes or Forrest Gump.

I would never ask a fellow movie buff to explain why he or she loves movies. So don't ask me. I just know they're a joy, vice and cure all at once.