This past Sunday, I moved out of my lovely abode at Marlborough Farms (where this song was recently recorded) and into my new apartment very nearby. Only it isn't an 'apartment' in the New York City sense of the word. It's the entire third floor of a Victorian home. Now, for the first time in my life, my "office" won't also be my bedroom! Unfortunately, my roommate won't be moving in until the end of October, but hopefully time will fly and we will be together soon enough.
Speaking of that roommate, one year ago on this very day, we were simply good friends who sat next to each other every day watching movies, without any hint or threat of love. But that was all about to change within the next few days. Now, one year later, we're about to live together and I can safely say that I've never looked forward to something so much in my life. I am so happy that if I think about it too much I get all tingly and distracted. Watching Natural Causes at the IFC Center last night made me soooo thankful that I'm no longer in my early twenties. Back then, I was too insecure, jealous, and unsettled to have been an even somewhat decent boyfriend. Now, I feel like all of those awful pressures are gone and I can appreciate what I've got: the 100% perfect person for me!
As I was giving the refrigerator a hearty scrub down this evening, I found this sheet of paper folded up on top of the freezer:
But enough about poop. In movie news, I get to see The Wrestler in just a few hours, followed by the Max Richter-scored Waltz With Bashir. I've been feeling a bit of movie overload and am actually ready to return to my normal life that doesn't involve going to the Walter Reade every day, but we still have a few good ones to go. And lest you think I'm ungrateful for my September/October life in NYC, let me share a story with you from today...
As we left this afternoon's Summer Hours screening, some crazy guy was standing outside the theater, going absolutely batshit maniacal on a telemarketer, to the amusement of everyone around him. Tom informed me that he's actually one of the cinemaniacs from the 2002 doc Cinemania, which I haven't seen. That took some of the hilarity out of it for me, but it was interesting in another way. As Tom pointed out, in no other city can you walk around and spot random documentary subjects as if they're celebrities. I don't know if that incriminates us or them, but it's an interesting point. Then, as we were walking towards Broadway, Mike Leigh walked past us like he had just woken up from a week-long coma. He had a jacket on but didn't have his arms in the sleeves and was eating a hot dog. Right as he got past us, he took a bite and a chunk of bun fell on the ground. The moral of the story, children, is that if you are a movie nerd, New York City is where it's at.
Lastly, but perhaps most importantly: Lance Hammer's extraordinary debut feature, Ballast, opens at the Film Forum today. Don't just pay to see it to support Hammer's decision to self-distribute. Pay to see it because it's one of the year's finest achievements. Read my review of the film over at Hammer to Nail if you haven't already.