Super-meta-ed-out

Like I'm staring at a window that reflects a mirror that reflects a pool of water that my double is staring into.

To wit: Last night an April asked me if I was born in April.

We know how I feel about that question. And I ended up catching a bit of foot-in-mouth disease.

"You're an April! You can't ask an April that question!"

After I chided her, I was informed that she was in fact born in April & that her parents did in fact have no imagination. She actually spent the first week of her life with no name.

I find that a bit disquieting. And I wonder whether her middle name mightn't really be "Mayjune".

Holy Crap

I haven't been to a first-run theater besides Cinema 21 (a special case, since the first screenings on Saturday & Sunday are $4, & that's all I go to) since I saw Children of Men way back in, I think, January of this year. But, of course, my beloved Todd Haynes' new film I'm Not There opens today, & obviously I am trotting out to see it as soon as Aprilly possible (meaning, methinks, Friday). Oddly enough considering Mr. Haynes resides in Portland, it's playing in only one theater - the Regal Fox Tower 10. It's a short bus ride or healthy walk away, which is nice (hurrah for city life!), but in researching the showtimes I discovered the freakin' ticket prices. And apparently I am way, way out of the loop here.

Eight dollars for a matinee?!?!?! And, of course, ten dollars for a regular showing.

I'm absolutely flabbergasted that anybody, anywhere, still goes to these chain multiplexes. I mean, unless I'm mistaken, most of the movies that play at such theaters are kind of awful. Even if they are "independent", whatever that means nowadays.

I now feel completely justified in waiting for movies to come to the Laurelhurst, CineMagic, Avalon or Bagdad. Those multiplex hos can lick on these nuts & suck the dick.

P.S. Heh. Look at the sidebar - I'm watching, reading & listening all Haynes. If this were a Douglas Sirk movie, it would so be Magnificent Obsession.

Dear East Coast,

Here is reason #342 why I DON'T MISS being enfolded in your hot, fetid, sweaty, bug-filled, moist bosoms:


Not at all. Not in the least. Ew. I'd imagine there are some fever-worthy temperatures accompanying that rash. DOUBLE EW.