Ellen Aim was right about one thing: your brother's a jerk.

That was definitely a fucking blast. The most fun a girl could have with her clothes on, come to think of it. An ENTIRE THEATRE full of people singing along, cheering/screaming/applauding in all the right parts. It was a fucking great crowd.



And the film was an actual PRINT, which was surprising (well, not really, I called beforehand to see) as it's pretty rare. I've always wanted to own my own print of that film, but this particular print is off the market. Why? Well, the whole screening was sort of put together in honor of their old program director, because Streets of Fire is her favorite movie of all time. And it was her birthday. So guess what they gave her? HER OWN GODDAMN PRINT OF STREETS OF FIRE. I felt my jaw actually fall open in shock and envy.

But oh wow, the electricity of that fucking crowd was magic like you just can't order. Where the fuck have these people been all my life? I can't even seem to meet people who've heard of the fucking thing, let alone people who can quote and sing along!

They did a Q&A after the film, and the two actors, Michael Paré and Deborah Van Valkenburgh seemed to have a really good time. I got the feeling they hadn't seen the film in quite a while. Considering it's 25 years old, they were pretty blown away by how young everyone looked.

There was then a "world premiere" screening of the work-in-progress film The Road to Hell. It was only an hour, but people either seemed to mostly leave beforehand or cleared out during the screening. The mass exodus worked for me, though, as afterward I got to hang out in the lobby and get my Streets of Fire poster signed by the two stars (as seen in the previous post). They had designed a fairly cool poster for the event that night, but not only was it $20, it wasn't quite as cool (as evidenced by Michael Paré wanting mine).

So it was a helluva lot of fun, and easily worth the drive down and the cost of a night in a hotel (which was really nice, btw. We stayed at the Hyatt by the river, where everyone was lined up along the Congress bridge to see the bats take off--that time of year again)!

But now it's back to work and the joys of daily life. I am kind of looking forward to the presidential debate tonight, don't ask me why.

I'm also still piddling around with my law school applications, though I did send off my emails for letters of recommendation (fingers crossed that they remember me) and tried to get in touch with my friend's employment lawyer. She has a nice secretary, who either listens incredibly well and got my name from the very beginning, or wasn't writing jack shit down and I won't be hearing from her anytime soon. We'll see.

Anyhoo. You know, I would like to think I read somewhat intelligent books (for the most part), but anyone who breaks into my car might think differently at the moment. I just borrowed two books from the library (Twilight, by Stephanie Meyer)



and Nights in Rodanthe by Nicholas Sparks. Wait, I can explain.

The former, well, I think I am the last person to read it. So there. And I've heard good things. The latter? Ok, so my friend J clued me into the preview for the upcoming film version, which stars Diane Lane and Richard Gere.



It looked pretty goddamn awful, so I thought I would read the book to see if that helped any. I knew that fucking name (of the author) sounded familiar, so when I flipped to the back to see he'd also written Message In a Bottle, A Walk to Remember, and The Notebook, well, I almost yakked up breakfast all over the jacket. And here I was borrowing it.

In all fairness, I have only read The Notebook (ok, 80% of it was all I could take) but I just felt like tearing the pages out one by one and using them for toilet paper would be a better use of the paper's time.

And best of all? The copy of Nights in Rodanthe is LARGE PRINT so now I can really feel like I borrowed it from my elementary school's library.