5-Mar-2007

Okay, I hate to have to point this out, but you people have not been helpful at all in terms of finding me a way in to the Sarah Polley screening tonight.  In a moment of desperation, I emailed Successful Writer and am patiently awaiting his response.  I suppose I could call Oscar Nom as well, since he's into all that indie shit, but I need a couple more cups of coffee before I stoop to begging.  Besides, I am still worn out from the weekend.  Cliffhanger's birthday party continued into the wee hours of the morn on Sunday, and I just can't stay out that late anymore.  Someone please tell that to the peach cobbler at Swingers, which has kept me from my bed many a night.  Oh, wait.  I don't sleep in my bed anymore.  I have taken to sleeping on the couch to ward off Kevlar Vince Vaughn.  Plus, the Designated Driver totally threw me for a loop last night by not getting home from Vegas until midnight!  Now, that's all well and good - far be it from me to keep someone from the nickel slots.  The problem last night was that I had been to see ZODIAC, and she had told me she'd be home around 6.  So I get home a little after 8, and she's not there.  I call her.  She just got on the road and won't be home till midnight.  Why is this a problem?  Because I am alone in my apartment and there is a serial killer on the loose.  Oh, wait.  It's not 1972.  Well, that's a relief.  I was worried there for a second.