extrafox

I didn't get better. I was still feeling stupid at 5:30, so I told Lauren I didn't want to go see Coheed. I did. I wish I had. But I'm glad I didn't. I don't think I could have stood to be that immersed in the twitching masses of scenester kids and their like for longer than five minutes without strangling someone with my bare hands. Which would have meant that I wouldn't have gotten to see Coheed anyway, who didn't go on until ten, so I guess it's all the same.

Lauren and I drove Ben out to the Marquee where he scalped our tickets for us and even managed to get full buying price - $30 each including online fees. Ben is a genius. Failing that, he managed to find a pair of stupid fucks who didn't know the difference ($8, in case you're wondering). Lauren drove us out to Scottsdale where we dropped Ben off to eat at Maggiano's with his family while she and I ate at the best little hole-in-the-wall Chinese place I think I've ever been to. Lauren is somehow friends with "Vicki," the little Chinese woman who owns it. I have no comprehension of how that came about.

We then kidnapped Shannon from her bed (I have no idea what the 13-year-old was doing asleep at 8:30 on a Friday night, but she's the best 13-year-old I've ever met, so I'm not about to mess with that) and went to see "Good Night and Good Luck."

It was the single most beautiful piece of cinematography I have ever seen in black-and-white. The shots themselves gave me chills. I got emotional about a blurred image of Edward R. Murrow in front of a televised image of him. Aside from that, it was a spectacular movie, and I expect everyone who reads this to make it a point to go see it. There is no excuse not to. There are cute little artsy cinemas in every city. Go fucking see it.

Leftover time.

Kate