deleteria

I promised myself I'd go to bed early so I could go to work early and Get Things Done.
I spent $$ I should be saving for rent (so I can move out of my parents' apartment) on a cab, so that I could get home at A Reasonable Hour.
I am still awake, putzing around online.
Sigh. But David and I spent a good two hours (with the company of his israeli cousin and courtney donner) deconstructing early ninties television. He quoted equus, I giggled into my third glass of wine on an empty stomach. We're pure class, and I'm so glad to have this brand new partner in crime whilst my former p-i-c's have deserted me for larger scale adventures (see: Las vegas, new orleans; card playing, cocks.)
--

I was the recipient of a backhanded catcall in the half a block I walked home tonight. Someone started shouting "Excuse me, excuse me." Which is of course the cue to avert your eyes, pick up your pace, and get where ever you're going without recognizing the Caller. But this guy went a step further-- into balls out honest territory.

"Excuse me! Excuse me! I'm desperate. Honey, I'm desperate."

Well, glad to know that if I was the last woman on earth, it'd still be okay. (I looked cute today too! Like a sailor!) He kept shouting until I was out of earshot.

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Today I'm trying to figure out two things.

1. Do I like cats? Many of the flatmates Claire and I are considering want to bring cats. This would not bother me. But I am considering getting one myself, and I wonder if I have the emotional reserves to love a creature that could do just as well without me.

2. Do I want my hair cut like Edie Sedgewick, or Andy Warhol?
(to be honest, I'm leaning towards Andy.)
OR

Except, roll down the window and let the wind blow back your hair

This is the summer of my discontent, gravelly voiced, working class songsmiths weaving melodies from the lower registers-

endless amounts of Tom Waits, Nick Cave, Bruce Springsteen... Stephen Merritt, the National.

My womb music was bruce springsteen, I was possibly conceived during the Born in the USA tour, 1985. I don't know if that makes the space he takes up in my soul any less cliche, but I will draw upon the wisdom of Sabina Carlson to justify my shameless devotion to the garden state, springsteen love and all--

...Grow Wings from Your Wounds...We're all stellar, our friends, because we've had to claw ourselves out of the suburbs and onward to the stars--- through that brick red dirt of South Jersey and the apathy weighing ankles like boots coated in clay...
I am in love with New Jersey... and if you've never photographed broken glass in an abandoned casino in Asbury Park with a bohemian princess... if you've never seen the electric factories glow like angels on I-95...if you've never wished on a streetlamp when you couldn't see shooting stars... don't tell me New Jersey isn't beautiful...

Film comment--
My Winnipeg. My Winnipeg. My Winnipeg. So sentimental and bitingly nostalgic and genuine, in the best way possible for an ambivalent, experimental film about a mixed bag hometown, and escape, without answers.

production stills- driggs, ID

filmgeek social networking

I wish there was some sort of community like goodreads or lastfm to record recently viewed films. Actually, I take that back. I don't necessarily want that published.
The weeks since graduation have seen a dramatic flux in my cinematic intake. I fully blame david lieberman, as for six of the first eight days I spent in new york were in his company, and we watched movies for probably four of those six days. It's sick, I'm viewing voraciously.
In no particular order, what I've been watching over the past week and a half-
Stuck
Savage Grace
Serenity
Judy Berlin (with Eric Mendelsohn and Edie Falco at YFFLC)
Wanted and Desired (in a hotel in Driggs, Idaho)
My Winnipeg (with Guy Maddin)
Bottle Rocket

Tonight I want to go see Beauty in Trouble at the Angelika (czechs! might be able to go with my film school roommate! czechs!) but I could also, you know, leave the apartment for the first time today and go read in the park rather than sit in the dark.