Christ I did alot this weekend, and I didn't write about a smitch of it! Well, here we go:

Now remember, I had to see seven movies on Saturday and Sunday to use up those passes that expired on Sunday, so I rolled up my sleeves and went to work.

On Saturday I saw Hoodlum and Mimic. Hoodlum was awfully good; it's the kind of film where the supporting cast would normally stroll off with the film, but Lawrence Fishburn is such a strong actor that he just wouldn't let them! Tim Roth and Andy Garcia were great, but Chi McBride, an actor that I've never seen before, was outstanding and Fishburn had to be very strong for anyone to even look at him when he was onscreen!

Mimic was okay. Cool bugs and all, but it wasn't entirely scary. Jeremy Northam does a damn good American accent, though.

I could only see two films because I had to sit for Molly that night. I wore the Pooh jumper, and she flipped. When I was putting her to bed, though, I squatted down and the bottom button (down at the hem--this was a knee thing, not a big giant butt thing) flew off and I said "Mother FUCKER!!!"

There was a pause, and then this sweet little voice said:
"Fucker! Fucker! Fuckerfuckerfuckerfucker!!!!"
As I buried my head in my hands and waited for her to stop.

I must remember to said mothahpussbucket next time, there's nothing bleepable in that.

So Sunday I had to see five films! I planned on seeing them at 12p, 2p, 4.30p, 7.45p and 10p, but 'twas not to be.

I got to the first theatre at noon, and there was a long queue outside and a dark box office. All of the employees were standing in front of the building and they said that the manager and key master hadn't shown up yet! So I waited for a bit, but then decided to re-arrange my schedule. And nothing else was playing at noon, so I couldn't see a different noon film, I just had to only see four. But at the last film I gave my remaining pass to the guy behind me in line, so it didn't go to waste.

First I saw Career Girls, which was swell. It was about two women at two different points in their lives. It was about people who found it almost impossible to communicate, managing to connect--one was so shy that she could barely look anyone in the eye, and the other was so brash and motor-mouthed that she couldn't stop talking, and then in the present tense parts of the film you see how they managed to grow up. There was this one beautiful moment where the two girls and this guy who also was locked inside of himself all get up and dance in the living room and it was just so moving to see these characters let go like that.

Then I went back to the first theatre, and it was open and I recognized the girl in the box and asked her when the key master finally showed, and she said at 1.30p. And they were giving out passes to people, but they were only good for that performance and I was using up my rapidly rotting passes as it was, so I didn't get one. And that film was The Full Monty, which was just marvelous. Funny and life-affirming and wonderful.

Then was Ulee's Gold, which was certainly the class act of the day. If anyone had told me that Peter Fonda of all people on the planet earth would give one of the best performances of the year, I would have thought they had gone bonkers. The thing about that movie that really got me, though, is that I am Ulee. I mean, I'm not a man or a grandparent or a beekeeper or anything, but I'm that emotionally apart. The funny thing, though, is that none of my friends would ever guess that. But I have rarely identified with a character in a film that strongly.

And lastly was Conspiracy Theory, which I thought would be the worst of the bunch, what with it being a big studio film and everything, but it was terrific! A good story and everything! And I gotta tell ya, the version of New York City that has cab drivers that look like Mel Gibson, even as crazy as he was and wearing that stupid wooly hat, is a version that I personally want to live in.

And here is the Candyman update.
We had discussed seeing each other on Saturday, but we never called and confirmed, and I had all those movies to see, so I decided to just let it go.

So naturally, when I called my machine from Cynthia's house Saturday night, there was a message from him from about twelve hours before saying "Okay, I'm gonna come into the city! Call me and give me directions to your house!" Which meant that I was a little relieved, actually, because I certainly couldn't allow him to set foot in my house--he'd hate me forever!
No really, it's revolting.

So I rang back Sunday morning and had a lovely chat with his Mom, who said that he was in Jersey helping a friend move. Then he called back 9a Monday morning and said that he had slept at his friend's house and did I want to go to breakfast. But I was not awake at that moment and the machine picked up and I didn't listen to it till 11.30a!! So I rang back and told his machine that I am not up at fucking 9a on a holiday! So I went out and he called (of course) and said he'd be home and I called and he wasn't and I went online and he called and I got offline and returned the call and...

He picked up! I nearly fainted.

So we talked for an hour, and I got good news and I got bad news. The good news is that he's gonna be in town for a couple of auditions on Wednesday and we're gonna have lunch and then meet again after work and hang out then, plus he is definitely coming out to Brooklyn on Saturday and we're going to the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens.

The bad news is...he's allergic to cats. This may be a disaster.

One year ago today:
And we were glowing like the metal on the edge of a knife...

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