gay bar last week

Wednesday was rainy, so I decided to get to the cafe an hour early. A former camper of mine from 2008 was visiting LA, DM'd me months ago asking if we could meet up. She's an artist too, she said. I suggested my favorite patio. It's where I take everyone from out of town. It feels like a movie in that green little garden of twinkle lights and wire seats. But in bad weather it becomes something else--a cramped, muggy bungalow. I snag a corner table and an Italian soda. I write a bunch of emails about my play. I recognize the girl as soon as she steps in the building even though she has a lot of piercings now. I get her a poppyseed muffin and a brookie for me.

It's so easy to talk to the camper. It helps she wasn't in my cabin, so in my head I have maybe a single flash of her in my drama class. We also discover we are in the middle of a very small club: queer artists who grew up going to religious summer camp. We're able to discuss so much, so quickly, with all kinds of shorthands and inside jokes. She's thinking about moving here, and I am honest with her--the careers are kind of over. ...But the community is very big and the sun really does shine most of the time.

I rush to catch the bus for a 4:40 mall movie. There are, like, three showings left of The Moment, and I feel very strongly I must see this film in a theatre. I arrive a little early, take a lap around the fountain, get a kids combo popcorn and Sprite. I sit in my favorite seat, the back row corner, and enjoy the movie immensely. I also remember there's half a brookie in my purse. I eat it. Puhg picks me up on the corner by the Cheesecake Factory. It's drizzling, and I'm eager to sit on the balcony, smelling the pine trees.

At night I think about how I told the camper one of the worst parts of the industry is how everyone is your friend, which means, actually, kind of, no one is your friend. It's confusing and sad. I will probably never get it. The Moment grapples with the same theme. What are relationships inside capitalistic-driven art?

The camper asked me to tell her what I thought of Charli XCX's masterpiece. She foreshadowed, "It was kind of about...what you just told me." I emailed her Thursday agreeing, yep. I added--

"Happy to serve as an artistic sounding board anytime. We are in a TINY club!"

She wrote back, ending with, "Would love to stay in touch in this tiny club <3 I’ll absolutely reach out in my future visits to come too. Hope writing goes well today!"

At 5:34 I ended our communication, "I think we’ll be seeing other again soon, a hunch!"

At 7:30 I made my way to the local gay bar for a socialists of LA meeting. I walked in and was greeted! Immediately! By this former camper! She raised her arms in surprise! She and her girlfriend were at that same bar, coincidentally, watching The Traitors. We hugged. She pointed to her phone. "You said we'd see each other soon and here we are!" Here we are. Here we always are.

Partial List of Things That Have Happened in the Past Two Months, No Order

made friends with a crab on a black sand beach

watched young artists present my play! they did a fully choreographed dance to LWYMMD!

protested ICE and fascist government overreach

activated against Big Oil at City Hall with my climate group

wrote a Toy Conglomerate commercial

finished a different Toy Conglomerate project

very dramatic discussion in the back booth of Y_ R____, I can’t get my head around it and had to go back a week later, to think and eat mozzarella sticks alone

a promise from a director, the director dipping

a promise from a producer, the producer might have to dip

but the treehouse meeting

attention and ghosts, attention and ghosts, ghosts, two of them

The Campbell soup can with my mom

night walk from my sister’s on solstace

rainbow celebration of life

four trips to Portillos, or was it five

the seriousness of AI across tables

the silliness of gabbing on a porch as dusk falls, about pride and patriarchy

fancy fancy drinks in WeHo with boss

fancy fancy dinner in WeHo with boss and boss

download with my friend the newly famous stand-up

download with my friend the newly divorced businesswoman

watched a billion TikToks of that Hoodie Allen song

cried to hearing “The Scientist” live, lights all night, banana slurp following, digging the tunes with the rambling bassist

strawberry bubble tea with my sister

Dusty and Lav, we all murmur at the vegan diner

Jia’s fantastic, free pool party, forgot my sunscreen, forgot my swimsuit, forgot the names

office hours at my knoll

AM scheduled then bailed on lunch three times, it doesn’t bother me, everyone is insane, but I wish he’d done it before I ordered our expensive sandwiches

SW looking snatched, picking at her nachos, concerned about Mark Ruffalo

long pool lays listening to Tunnel Vision or reading Zami, finished Doppelgänger at the coffee shop, in the corner

wrote goddaughter at our summer camp

Secret Lives of Mormon Wives Season 2

Talked Cobra off a cliff from her cousin’s pool house in Santa Monica

Improved musical about Leonardo DiCaprio

clacking at the substack

encouraging Cass, she can sleep until 2

pastries every morning off the lake -- biscuit, cinnamon donut, coffee cake, almond croissant

karaoke room and facials, bench in an elevator

Chicago storm at the art museum

Chicago storm at the fancy restaurant with the cheese board

Dave & Busters with Lo, beat some teens at Mario Kart, air hockey

Taco Bell Cantina, met that actress, told her I was her for Halloween even

text argument with Shellz, but it’s funny, it’s funny

I Know What You Did Last Summer and Sorry, Baby and Final Destination at the movies

recognizing I may have been put on the planet to be present

watched the Zelda Ocarina of Time walk-through for the Shadow Temple, when Link finds the lens of truth

walking in the neighborhood at golden hour

If your ex man got a problem he can test me / I'm a good fella, Joe Pesci

Don't Let the Days Go By Glycerine

It's the time of year when the sun wakes me and I'm not too cold to stay in bed and not too hot to wrestle out. I close one eye and use the other to look into Puhg's. I decide, urgently, I need to go to a matinee at the movies today. I book the 1 PM Nosferatu in the huge theatre with recliners. I do the Espresso dance work-out and time my shower to be ten minutes flat. I feel determined to make it to the cafe before 8:40, so I can have a few choice minutes with my honey. I fold my vegan bacon slices into quarters so I can eat them in single bites. Crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch. I decide on my black joggers and pink thrifted Scream crewneck. I wear the t-shirt I wore to bed, honestly.

I make it down the street by 8:32. The jolliest barista is in a mask and got a cool haircut. I have too much oat milk and Puhg has too little, so I do some extraction shots with my straw, like a surgeon. We talk about people's odd need to defend systems that don't even serve them and spaghetti vs. waffles. I read two sections of Women Who Run with the Wolves, about the mystical meaning of dolls and naiveté, then jot a list of my favorite art of 2024. I look through my notes from my first play read-through. No one has read a word of this thing yet, and I'm getting nervous. It is boring? I wonder, then, later, no it's it's not boring...it's too cringe to share to even find out if it's boring. I rewrite the notes in better handwriting, with more structure. I outline which scenes I think need reordering and which can be hacked or collapsed. I have to cut about 50 minutes, if not 60! I've never overwritten to this degree! I try to sign a contract for a conglomerate. They forgot to do some paperwork months ago. Two hours after I say I'll review the documents and send them back, they ping me, saying they'd really like the signatures now. I think about all the responses I want to fire off: well I don't actually work for you right now shall I bill you for an hour or two for the rush delivery I have my own life I have other jobs you've actually never ever asked me a single question about myself your folly is not my emergency chill out we live on a rock in space on which everything is controlled by a fake paper currency with no real value. But instead I walk home, open my laptop, sign the documents, and write, "Here you go!"

My friend asked me to note his screenplay. I've read five of his projects. He's worked with me so long that my rate has more than tripled since we met. I still discount him, which isn't great business, but sometimes other things matter more. The first act was hilarious, two and three could use shaping. I type up my findings while fielding all the Coffee Pings. Coffee Pings are so cute and validating and a tiresome never-ending Hollywood boulder to roll. One of my Conglomerate Producers is tapping me for a different comedy project and wants breakfast Thursday. The social outreach gal from the activism group wants to Zoom about my play. The college director checks in about the Saturday reading start time, yes 7 is great and I'm bringing a new scene I exclaim. My old college professor pitches an idea for a guest lecture. The most whimsical playwright I know texts thank you for my contributions to her writers' group yesterday: "smart thoughtful kind meeting everyone where they’re at - just so good." She wrote this incredible piece about a haggard woman who runs a grant program for a sociopath and I laughed my butt off reading it. Another bite from an LA director about a regional theatre producer I should know, I say I'll follow up. Grief asks if I can attend a game night with executives next week and Buckle says we're overdue for face time so I open my calendar and volley 16th afternoon in WeHo and Roll: "Want to get a coffee sometime soon? I would like to sit in your glow for a bit :-) " A trickle of gals RSVPing yes for our next gab sesh. Different Conglomerate says their client is two months late on my notes, but go ahead and bill for the commercial now. That random $300 gig money gets wired. I get overwhelmed and text Gos about how horrified I am that we've been witnessing/normalizing a genocide for over a year! I'm sorry but it makes me completely break-down once a week or so! I'm seeing dead children every day! Intentionally dead children! With bullet wounds in their heads! How are we just walking around listening to pop music and eating pretzel bites!

Thirty minutes later I'm in the AMC parking lot blasting "Karma" and pre-ordering cinnamon pretzel bites. I smuggle in my own can of Diet Cherry Coke. Everyone flipping loved this film, and it just didn't hold me. That's fine, I'm glad I went. Three other people were in there. I clapped for Nicole Kidman alone. I reemerged like a vampire from her crypt at golden hour. I walked along the busy street to the promenade, fully basking in the California winter. Got a falafel bowl. The owner was scooping hummus today. I trotted around remembering being a teen at the mall. When I got back to my car I decided to do another lap, then another. The line was long at In N Out, two girls drink Frappuccinos, I pass an unhoused woman with hair over her face one way and again on the way back. Notably, she has a new Target bag.

I decide not to play music and take the long way home, through the park, by the old zoo. It's a gorgeous windows-down winding drive. The runners are out and the kind of cars who don't rush to be the first to zip through an intersection. I'm very proud of how I timed it all. The darkness, just creeping up on the skyline as I pull into my apartment gate. Puhg came into the bedroom and sat on the bed. We thought about if things we do are responses to or reflections of our stimuli. He went on a walk, so I wrote this. Felt like listening to Glycerine by Bush.

We live in a wheel where everyone steals / but when we rise it's like strawberry fields.

Some Things to Love about Chicago (Very Partial List)

-calling everyone "you guys"
-when the River bridges go up
-those little yellow ladders on the lake
-everybody's a comedian (discouraging at first, homey at second)
-my nail place where they use java essential oils
-LSD at night by car, south toward the pink Drake sign
-the bakery cases at Mariano's
-nicest conductor on the Red Line who always ends announcements with "students: study hard"
-300 theatres
-the Picasso (hack, but true)
-State and Lake trash shopping
-the forever of a Clark Street walk
-the tallest movie theatre & reclining chairs
-my library--so hot and yellow with a familiar security camera
-the Lakeview rooftops at dusk
-spaceship church
-no one is too good for you

Representation

i. When I was eight my mom took me to a production of Hello Dolly in which Dolly was played by a big black woman. This was normal to me as I knew nothing about Hello Dolly. I had limited interaction with black women. I was in third grade with a black boy and felt sort of hoodwinked when his white mom showed up to help with a Valentine's Day party. Besides museum guards at the Art Institute etc. my main rep for black women was a servant in Show Boat. Now I had Dolly--smart, giving, deserving of the best. When I caught a glimpse of Streisand belting in a big ol' hat a couple years later on TV, I was like, "That was an interesting choice. To cast a white lady."

ii. Last night instead of going to a Super Bowl Party (I used to dislike football because I didn't ever learn how it was played but now I kind of hate it for being a violent cover-up concussion swamp) Puhg and I saw Moonlight. It is a great film, done slowly and carefully, which didn't open my eyes to anything but did remind me of a couple things. I probably won't watch it again. I didn't cry. I was slightly moved. More importantly it is representation we didn't have. Should that alone win it Best Picture? Well, yes. Because representation matters.

Frances Ha

-Girls does a good job of representing the complexities of female friendships, but Frances Ha captures the intimacies. Women do have a bond more ethereal than...anything. Not to get wacky, but we're the life-makers. Something under our surface tapes us together. There is awareness. I mean, you don't get to say we all talk too much without acknowledging that is for some reason.

-Frances deserves her fate. While this might make some movies too easy, not this one.

-Being young and happy is the best. It's also strange and difficult.

-This was not a woman's story. This was a human's story.

-I hated and loved every character.

-It was everything Llewlyn Davis wasn't. A redemption as I saw the latter Monday and the former Wednesday. I hated Llewlyn Davis. I gained nothing. I lost something. Cohens have forsaken me.

-I have recently realized I am uninterested in art that does not in some form provoke hope. I am also uninterested in arguing that some art imitates life and sometimes there is no hope. There is always hope, you jerk.

My Sister's Day Today

It's my sister's birthday. In honor, my favorite memory of her this past year:

I'd never seen a James Bond movie before, but I'd heard Skyfall was excellent. It was showing on the cruise, part of the "Movies Under the Stars" program. There was a giant screen above the pool on the top deck of the ship. A movie played every night. Popcorn was made, hot cocoa stand. The title was accurate. The stars were visible right above, just beyond the film. Glaciers slinked past. Sounds gorgeous, but it was also ALASKA AT NIGHT--read: face freezin' off.

Yet, my sister, even though she'd already seen the movie, gave in to my pleading to go. We joined the eight other people on deck chairs, piled on the blankets, pulled our hoods up. I brought us a plate of all the desserts and fancy cheeses offered in the buffet. She a book. "I can't feel my toes," she said forty minutes in. I puppy dog faced her. She pulled her hood in tighter and kept reading. Periodically I'd interrupt to ask a question about Judy Dench or something. We laughed a lot. We shivered. The double chocolate cookies were the best. "This movie is longer than I remembered," she garbled into her scarf. The credits rolled, we discussed the best parts, we shuffled our Uggs to our cabin.

Deux

May 2012.

Today was the last day of school before fall break. I toted my new floral purse to work stuffed with the lesson, Dave Eggers, and a banana I stole from Ro's fruit bowl. At work I coached a student through a panic attack and my boss asked me if I would walk in the homecoming parade to represent the disability center. "No, my family is coming to see my thesis play." I told her, and she asked if they might rather see the parade. She wasn't kidding, which was actually refreshing. It's just a stupid play. I left at 1 PM, trotted out in my grey sweater, waited on a sun-doppled bench under the small tree out front of the design building. I love the concrete bridge, the cul-de-sac where people kiss and ride. Shells pulled up, windows down, and yelled, straight-up yelled, "ALLLL ABOOOARD!" I cackled like crazy. She took her lunch to see Don Jon* with me. We bought matinee tickets and joined three other people in the theater. Shells and I have a very similar sense of humor, and there is nothing like that.

We snuck foil-wrapped Chipotle into the movie. In the parking lot we remembered it was the first place we ever hung out one-on-one. We'd already become fast friends through sketch comedy, so one afternoon almost exactly two years ago we ditched everyone getting drinks after the show for burritos. I keep writing and deleting what I love about her because it's just boring to everyone else, but, mainly, I am so grateful I showed up in the desert with no one and two years later am surrounded by someones. Things move. There's nothing to be scared of.

*This is my favorite movie I have seen in 2013. A+.

The Heat! (Some Spoilers, But, Like, Stuff You Coulda Guessed)

Welp. I loved The Heat.

Granted, I had an extremely generous mindset going into the theater--I wanted to love this movie. Oh, boy, did I want to love this movie. FIRST FEMALE BUDDY COPS, FEMALE SCREENWRITER, MIDDLE-AGE HEROINES, MELISSA MCCARTHY'S UNCONVENTIONAL BEAUTY! My gender equality dreamz exploding into unicorns.

Look, it's not GD American Beauty, but it's way way way better than, like, eighty percent of Will Ferrell's summer movies. I have way too much to think and say about this film, but this is my crummy blog, and I don't get paid for it, so I am just going to give some bullet points.

-It was just as exciting to see women run around with guns and narrowly dodging explosives as it would be watching men. Truth. Of course the amount of violence is problematic, but that's not what I'm focusing on right now.

-Witty, gritty women. Some of the banter and one-liners. #SupesSmartDialogue #SupesSmartDialogueInLadyMouths

-I was worried at first when the women were so horribly opposed, but I had to recognize that they were not just competitive women (cough, Bridesmaids), they were just two opposing protagonists. It's a buddy cop movie. That's how it goes.

-Perhaps women can be a little more emotional, but they don't have to be. The women become friends/learn from each other, but they maintain a playful hate/love relationship until the end. Like, women (especially women in the FBI maybe?) can be affectionate jerks.

-No sexualization besides minor comedic club dancing. More awkward than body-focused. In buddy cop comedies, we don't need to actually get into a dude's six-pack. Same goes got Sandra's bangin' bod.

-THAT said, the women talk about each other's appearances more than average cop duos might.  (Although, it does happen. Opening scene in 48 Hours.) But, let's be real...that's part of being a woman. That stuff matters more. It's natural, they would make it matter more in their conversation. It was never drippy. It was punchy and often entertaining.

-Men also commented a lot on their appearances/ages/hygiene. I think this may have been overblown. (The villain always commenting on the relative "hottness" of the pair.) But, possible (sad). It was done comedically like, "Oh, great! This silly guy not being attracted to Melissa LOL." In seriousness, I'm sure true male villains do use appearance as a wedge to make their female victims feel uncomfortable. But, that would be a different genre.

-Lack of romantic focus. Each woman had a little backstory (I'm wondering if to prove they weren't gay?) but not even a B plot worth. Not even a C plot worth.

-The supposedly touching friendship moment was actually touching for me. I wonder if it was just written well or if I could connect more as a lady. Is this what I have been missing out on bromance movies all this time!? Seriously felt slightly choked up. During The Heat.

-There was a big ol' lack of other women. One one hand, this was probably accurate. Female cops in high places? Meh? It helped show a subtle feminist message: woman against everyone else. But, I thought that may have been too strong. Of course Sandra wants a promotion that her male boss can't see she deserves. What if it had been a woman? Maybe, I'm reading too much into it.

-These humans were supremely unlikable at the outset and didn't get much better (although they grew on me). Perhaps showing some negative women blown up? I think no. I think that's just what comedy is. They were whole humans. That's the important thing. I mean, we can't complain about lack of women in film if we expect them all to be perfect. Perfect is boring.

-The plot skeleton was pretty intriguing. The cops are on the trail of a huge drug bust. Kinda one of the less important rings of investigation? (According to me, who, you know, doesn't know anything about the worst impacts of coke economy.) I guess it's comedy, so murders aren't the best bet. But, still...something about the women succeeding at a pyseduo-fruitless mission...Hm.

-For a female-centric movie, there were still a lot of dick jokes. But, part of standing up as a woman is making aiming some guns at guy crotches.

-No one ever made fun of Melissa's weight or even alluded to it. #SoFreakingHappy

-Mainly, SO COOL THAT THE WORD "MISOGYNY" IS JUST CHILLIN' IN A SUMMER BLOCKBUSTER!

Things are happening, and I feel really excited for the future.

Green Analysis of Looper (Spoilers)

First of all, I really enjoyed Looper. Everyone I knew who had seen it from students to my dad had given it a serious thumbs up, so I had high expectations, and those expectations were certainly met. The movie is intriguing, beautifully crafted, and digestible enough to make sense, but complex enough to make you work/feel kind of smarty.

I also really appreciated the theme of conscientious environmentalism that can be applied to the film. As 20 somethings in a broken world they inherited, the Loopers feel as though their youthful behavior--while destructive--is theirs to enact. Again, they never asked to be part of that society in the first place. Even when directly faced with the consequences of the future, even for themselves, they do not want to change their ways.

The film also shows the heart of the struggle with environmental progress via Bruce Willis's character as he simultaneously demands a better future but refuses to change his own desires. We are empathetic to his emotion because we see that he is hopeful for a genuinely good thing. At the same time, by the end of the film we see that perhaps Willis is not wrong in that what he wants is a good thing...but that doesn't mean that overall he is working toward the greater good. To me, the projected solution of the film in terms of breaking the harmful cycle is something like, "Look. We get that you are but a human lost in the wide world without any personal responsibility for things, but just take some, would you? And furthermore, recognize that maybe you see something you could sacrifice as unsacrificable, but have you ever considered that perhaps there is more good--dare we say--BETTER good to fill the hole in your preconceived idea of perfection?"

There's a lot more to say on this topic (IE the use of retro fashion portraying this selfishness is not new to any generation), but I also have a lot of homework and grading to do.

Perks of Being a Wallflower

Read it when I was 15 in one sitting cozied into a chair at my grandparents' on Christmas. I learned a lot from that book. It got to me at the right time.

I saw it on Sunday night with Chelle. I didn't expect to love it, but I really did. The film definitely did justice to the original story, and it made me reflect just like the pages do, and it made me appreciate teen years just like I was reminded to do that bitter December years and years ago.

Today during our break from playwright's workshop, Boulder and I wandered out of our classroom and into the hall where the lockers for acting students are. Cobra saw us and said, "You guys look like you're in high school." We assessed our locker-leaning and realized we did. We improvised a short scene in which we were hiding cigarettes and dishing about letterman jackets.

Something I'm Grateful About: I sincerely loved my high school experience. In hindsight, yes (nostalgia!) but also at the time. I had some rough patches, but I was super into the whole shebang--the frenzy of classes, the passing notes, the crushes, the plays, the busrides to tournaments, the proms. I realized on Sunday that some people will watch Perks and feel like they're on a voyage to a memory they never lived. But I have those memories for real, which is something to be grateful for.

High School speech tournament my junior year. I don't talk to any of these people, but they were important to me at the time.

My Dissertation on Batman Begins

Peeps be tryna accomplish the same thing: justice. But they all be goin' 'bout it differnt ways, and that's when ish gets real and Scarecrow gases er'rybody.

Soz basically, we finna wreck some trains 'n' stuff if we don' jus' sit down. Breathe. Talk it out. Maybs hug it out? And finna form a plan against fear and inequality. UH DOY. It ain't gon' work if you think er'ryone else a jerk. Er'ryone else be jus' tryna do dere tha-ang, ya hear? An' you don't gotta agree wit that, you just gotta agree with where dey comin' from--'cos you most likely already do. Like, Batman wants peace, so he fly 'round bein' all "Stop, criminals!" And ninja dude wants peace, so he wants er'ryone to hallucinate larva 'n' go on killing sprees. AND, Valcone wants peace, so he just wants er'ryone to do what he say aight! Their motives are the same! Ya dig?

Now apply the Gotham metaphor to all social issues today. ALSTAN OUT.

Films que J'adore!

My Theory final is in 12 hours. When I am stressed I like to make lists. Feel free to judge.

Alice's 25 Favorite Movies of All Time, Age 23:

25. My Neighbor Totoro
24. You've Got Mail
23. Bring It On
22. Clerks II
21. Cinderella Man
20. Fight Club
19. Chicago
18. Philadelphia
17. Scrooged
16. Man on the Moon
15. The Village
14. Wes Anderson movies in general (I guess my favorite is Darjeeling)
13. Adventureland
12. A Goofy Movie
11. Clueless
10. Jerry McGuire
9. Good Will Hunting
8. Amelie
7. Woody Allen in general (I guess faves are Manhattan Murder, Purple Rose, Bullets, Whatever Works, Play It Again, Sam)
6. Waiting for Guffman (and all Christopher Guest)
5. American Beauty
4. Titanic
3. Scream 2
2. Shawshank Redemption
1. Punchline

That Is How I Know You Go On

When I finally pulled the suction from around my eye hard enough to lift my goggle onto my forehead, I had swam a mile. I only had a minute to cool down before I had to hit the showers if I was going to make it to Theory on time. I rolled onto my back and propelled slowly towards the North wall, watching the morning clouds over the palm trees.

Tonight I saw Titanic in 3D. I was excited all day. This morning, twelve hours before I would be in the theatre, I packed my theatre loyalty cup in my backpack, so I could get a large lemonade for a dollar. Forget the haters, I love this movie. One hundred years ago today Titanic set sail on its maiden voyage. It was destiny to buy half-off Easter candy at CVS with these comedy boyz and walk through the glowing outdoor mall and land in seats and watch the love story that moved me when I was ten.

As a fourth grader I really got the "Live life to the fullest" message. I wrote, "Life is a gift.-Jack Dawson" on a small slip of paper, folded it, and tucked it into my shoe before school the next day. Tonight I liked the message of willingness. Jack could not have planned to die by iceberg. Cal could not buy his way to Rose's heart or escape from the sink. Leo said something like, "We never know what cards we will be dealt." How two years ago I had no steamy idea of my future, and, yet, I have one. I could not have willed that. It's just what happened. How one year ago, my mom was living in England, and poof poof poof, changes occur and she's in a small Illinois bungalow. How one-hundred years ago tonight people were celebrating like their lives meant something, and in four days, they were bubbles and fish food. But their lives do mean something, even if they never could have guessed their lives would mean me screeching Celine Dion into the night as I stand, arms wide open on the handicap ramp outside the theatre.



And Rose laid on her back, in pain from the suction of the propellors, gazing up at the night stars.

Near, far, wherever you are.
I believe that the heart will go on.

E.L.A.I.C.

Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close began with a blue New York sky. I felt as though I were wearing a necklace, maybe a golden timepiece, and the screen had scooped it up and was tugging it slowly--comforting on the edge of a choke.

I felt moved up and out from the first moments because I experienced the whole book again and then the experiences with the experiences and the experience of today with the experiences.

A boy from Alabama played Oskar Schell in his Dramatic Interpretation piece in my speech national final round in 2006. I met him while I was looking for my skirt which had fallen out of my bag.

Two months later my friend Claw told me to visit her at work the day before I left for college. I drove to the pizza place and found her extremely high. She left her post, went to her car, and emerged with her copy--incredibly marked up. She said I'd need it and told me I looked like I was going to a tea party. I looked to my right today. Henne was next to me, high school.

I kept the book on my dresser throughout my entire first term of college and read it over winter break. I read pieces of it to Vince in my St. Louis bedroom after Thanksgiving, I kept it in the back room at the ice cream store, and I sat on a tub of strawberries reading it.

A year later I bought a second copy for Kay, and we both read it in our first December together. The weeks leading up to my visit to his home when he was still back in Illinois at swim camp and I was nannying my baby cousin in San Diego. Kay and I brought our copies to the dunes of Monterey and could not speak. We stayed silent for hours watching the waves and climbing the sand. Now, I haven't spoken to him in a year. I can't remember what kind of hair he had. This bothers me. How did he look? We read what he called "the red hand book" together and now I don't remember if he hair was long enough to be curly last we spoke. I know he smelled faintly like burnt muffins from working at the bakery.

I'm sitting in the theatre though. Oh, I love this story. And while the movie encapsulates about 8% of the novel's goodness, I cry several times.

Henne sits across from me at the sweets shop. He takes his stubs out of his pockets and rips them in halves. I ask why. He says I probably keep everything, which is slightly true--at least until I decide if its worth scrapbooking. He asks if this night is worth remembering. And maybe that's it--I think everything is worth remembering.

I will always remember seeing my favorite book as a film with my high school friend and Hill and Hill's boyfriend and his roommate because we were a microscopic community and everything pieced together for me to feel this way and be this way and live this way. And it doesn't make any sense but that's why it does.

Five Nice Things 1/3/2012

1. Being able to go outside without a coat in January. Specifically--being able to going running in shorts and a t-shirt mid-day and feel quite comfortable.
2. Only paying $7 to see The Descendants with your friend Chelle because it is still matinee pricing.
3. Noticing a showing of Young Adult is starting right as you are leaving the Clooney flick. Double Feature--all for $7!
4. An MFA Taco party.
5. Giving yourself the morning off fretting and writing and wasting time by doing things like reading the Scream Wikipedia for, like, 40 minutes.

Denver Wedding

Murried.

Berger and I finished Adventureland last night
right before it was bedtime. Early bedtime. He had to drive me to the airport at 5 AM today.
I tied my shoes silently in the foyer.
"I made you breakfast," he said, handing me a granola bar and my soup dish of two cupcakes:
cranberry almond and orange chocolate chip mocha.

They were the wedding cake. I gave them as an offering to Chelle when she picked me up from the airport back in sunny AZ.
Oh,
I missed sunny AZ
when the entire 94 guests shuffled outside the mansion
to take a friendly group photo.
"Here's who's here to celebrate this lovely thing!"
we waved up at the camera.

KWall suggested Adventureland to me a few months ago.
Finally, the first day of her honeymoon, I watched it.
I loved it a lot.
I loved the love.
I loved the love all weekend.

I gave the readings for the special day, a mid-morning ceremony.
I read in a dress patterned with greyhound-shaped zebras.
A caterer asked if I made it.
Hmm. Don't think that's a compliment. When the caterer asks if you made your formal outfit.


Kath--the best Thanksgiving guest.

"I really loved it," I told Berger. I folded the blanket and patted it onto his sofa.
"Do you feel like you changed?" he asked, which is a good post-film question.
"Yes. I feel like you should do things that are good for you, and that you should be happy."

My friend KWall has a new name. My first memory of our friendship was a decade ago on a beach walk. We talked about the TV show Blossom. She was dating her college sweetheart back then. She broke his heart.
Games, games, games.

My Father's Film Review of Mother and Child

DAD: (Picking up my phone call) Oh thank GOD. You called just in the nick of time! I'm watching some terrible chick flick.
ME: What is it?
DAD: I don't even know. One of those "Emotional I hate my mom" things. I just got to the part where everyone's crying--
ME: Well, what's the guide say it is--?
DAD: "Mother and Child" Oh GOD! Why didn't I read this sooner?! "Three young women are brought together by adoption and love blah blah BLAH!" I need to write one of these. Just watch ten of 'em. Put 'em in a blender. Make millions.

Keep in mind this conversation happened at 1:30 AM.

Black Swan

Saw Black Swan with Dusty last week. So, while there a lot of cool parts in the movie--I wasn't the biggest fan. I mean, everyone knows Natalie Portman goes crazy, so, then it happens. And that's kinda it. Anyway, there's blood and stuff, and we all know how that goes for me:

I spent about 60% of the movie curled up in a ball on the seat kicking my legs up in the air squealing "Nooo" quietly. Dusty kept peeking down. "I think...I think there's no more blood." But then, two minutes later--BLOOD.

I was very tense the entire time. And right in the middle of some crazy psycho stuff my phone started blaring! My sister was calling. Yes, I was the doofus who forgot to turn the phone off. No big right? Except my sister's ringtone is "We Go Together" from Grease. Which I'm pretty sure is actually the worst possible song to compliment a ballerina gouging out her cheeks with a nail file. Dusty and I came up with Hinder's "Lips of an Angel" as a close second. But still second.

We'll always be together.
We'll always be together.
We'll always be together.
We'll always be together.

First Movie Date

The first time I saw a movie on a date was in 2002. I was a freshman in high school, and I was going on a double date with my boyfriend, my best friend (at the time--meaning we weren't best friends after about four months), and her boyfriend. But, things were on the rocks with the other couple, and the guy just didn't show. He was our ride.

My sister drove the three of us instead. We saw the movie They, which was really just horrible. There's more to the story, but you know how awkward dates go. Insert funny comment about hand holding.

I just totally didn't get it. TOTALLY. And this, to me, continues to be funny eight years later. Today what really got me cackling was remembering how after the movie my temp-bff asked, "Now what?" as I got out my phone to call my sister. The bf, eyes wide with excitement said "Let's get food!" as I said "Let's go home." I pretended I didn't hear him. What was he yammering about? It was like nine o'clock. I already ate dinner! He was a crazy. Why on earth would we prolong the night anymore? We'd already spent a couple hours seeing a movie. Without acknowledging anyone, I dialed my sis, we got picked up, and we dropped the bf back at his house. He sort of stood outside the car maybe waiting for a hug (?). I made eyes at my sister like "What are you waiting for? Pedal to the floor, lady."

She said, "He seems nice."
"Huh?" I said.

Totally. Didn't. Get. It.

Is it cool if I hold your hand? Is it wrong if I think it's lame to dance?