Komm zu mir

About a year, a year and a half ago, I loaned Cari my copy of Lola Rennt. I retrieved it on Monday night, and watched it a couple of times today. (Once with subtitles, and once without.)
I am reminded, and publically proclaim, just how darn cool it is.
Saturday is my John Cusak film festival (One Crazy Summer, Tapeheads, Sure Thing) and even if Pauline and Christy bailed on me, there will be a Barry and maybe a Stuart and it should be fun.
If the Enterprise thing falls through, I'm going down to the strip mall a couple of miles from the house--I can apply at Kinko's, CompUSA, AMC 20 Cinema, and Jamba Juice. Between them, I think I can get about 60 hours/week of work and make enough to survive on.

I was born in a house with the television on

I've seen the best songs of my generation destroyed because they're used to hawk cars, or computers, or track jackets, or cheez doodles or whatever the hell ever. I never would have expected to hear Tones on Tail in an advertisement. Or the Clash. Or Sex Pistols.
This is like a certain presidential candidate using 'Born in the USA' as an upbeat heart-stirring anthem. Pretty sparkly purple variety of Crack, that's what they're smoking, oh yeah.
Lunch with the Egg tomorrow, and buying soda for movie night. Woo. Pretty exciting day, eh?
I appear to have picked up a new guest; along with all the folks I know who have started reading, there's somebody mysterious. Welcome, Miss Goth from Beyond the Cemetary Gates. (Which of course makes me think of the Richard Shindell song because my wiring is all wrong.) Hope you enjoy the ride, or at least find some amusing bits.