So I had this horrible nightmare where I hooked up with Jon Benjamin and we were eating gelato and his wife walked in. Yea, um, guess that's not symbolic or anything. Seriously, my subconsciousness is so lame and literal sometimes. Anyway, when I went over to Matty's today he was watching Home Movies and hearing Coach Maguirk brought back the dream and I got really freaked out- thus securing my place of weirdest loser ever. Seriously. What's it with me having nightmares about random comedians lately?
I rode my bike to Prospect Park today from Williamsburg. It was threatening to rain all day but I somehow avoided the storm. I met up with Dave Bernstein and we went to Matt L.'s re-enactment of our Independence...with water balloons?
Dave looks like a drowned rat:
Hahahaha.
Last night I watched the first half of You, Me, and Everyone We Know. I am the last person in the world to watch this movie, and apparently god doesnt want me to see the film because it skipped half-way through and my DVD player only does the stop/start thing, not the "chapters" or "pause" or "do anything remotely helpful except restart a film no matter what point your at" functions. Ugh.
But from what I saw, it was gorgeous. Like if Todd Solandz made movies where everything dark and perverse was counteracted by the knowledge that life is a beautiful, fragile thing. I actually reinstated my Netflix account for this film, after reading July's short stories, "No One Belongs Here More Than You". Everyone needs to go out and read this book IMMEDIATELY. I know Im like, a year or two behind the Miranda July Express train, and by now there is backlash and everyone is all "oh, she's too precious" but oh my god just look at the website for her book.
God. Just please read this story. That story made me cry.
The end. Happy fourth. Im working and no one is here.
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