Thursday's Child (lauri8) wrote,
Thursday's Child
lauri8

We'll be leaving for Houston in a few hours, to drive three and a half hours down there, go to my stepmother's 50th birthday party, then drive three and a half hours back so that I can go to work tomorrow morning. I think that the party will be worth it, and I'm looking forward to seeing my family, but Jesus Christ, I am so looking forward to spending an entire weekend at home someday. That won't be happening anytime soon, though, not until after Jeff's dad's wedding on the 10th of July.

I had a fairly lazy day yesterday, though, sleeping past five a.m. for the first time in several weeks. In fact, I slept until NOON. Oh my God it was good. Then we went to see Dodgeball ("DO YOU BELIEVE IN UNLIKELIHOODS!") and that was good fun, followed by a few hours of dicking around and playing computer games until we went to Open Screen Night at the Alamo Drafthouse which was, I am SO relieved to report, better than I had expected. I must exercise full disclosure and further report that I was a very grumpy puffin while we waited in the lobby to be seated, as the Mommie Dearest dress-up and shout-along apparently ran over its scheduled time. And at the moment I hadn't much hope for the quality of entertainment Open Screen Night would offer me.

Last night's winner was fully one minute long, and was a promo for a horror movie that as of yet exists only in the filmmaker's fevered imagination called Henry, the One-Horned Deer. It's not up yet, but you can see it here sometime in the near future. In the meantime, I highly recommend viewing Travis!. I think.

One of the Two Note Solo guys (the same guy who submitted Travis!, actually) had quit his job yesterday, so last night he was full of healthy rage and energy. He looked formidable up there on the stage in front of the screen, beard bristling and threatening to throw us all out to watch the 23-inch screen in the lobby if we didn't keep quiet when we were supposed to. After the show, we walked past him as he leaned in a doorway to smoke. I asked him who he'd quit, and he said, "Aw, he just called me, actually, all remorseful. I work for a photographer. And he was being an asshole. And I told him I can't work like that, you know? I don't know . . ." Now he seemed forlorn, and his eyes were tired, and he had a gap between his front teeth, and I felt like giving him a hug. But I just nodded and told him good luck, and Jeff and I walked on to find the car.

We're slowly getting photos and footage from Alaska edited and assembled. And I will eventually post about the marathon, over on the other journal, I swear. But it won't be today.


Also, to be clear: My stepmother rocks. My family's lives are infinitely better for having her in them. No apocryphal evil stepmother stories here, sorry.
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