|Jesse at pre-show dinner|
Culturally, 2014 has been a pretty great year so far. I can't ever take this city I live in for granted. Last weekend I went to The Frick, I've seen a live show, and then yesterday my friend Adam and I went to the Museum of Modern Art. There were a few pieces I was particularly engaged in. Also, Dali's "The Persistence of Memory" is a lot smaller than I imagined.
|You can see Adam taking this picture of me taking in some modern art.|
|Hope II, Gustav Klimt|
|La Reproduction Interdite, Magritte|
|The Lovers, Magritte|
Last night we had friends over to watch the Patriots dominate the Colts. There was even a Colts fan in our midst, which usually seems to bode well during the playoffs - we've shared past games with fans of the opposite team, mostly to their chagrin by the end of the game. Next week Jesse and I will be visiting family in Panama, so we're currently counting on my mom to figure out how to watch the Patriots playoff game from thousands of miles away.
Today I met up with my friend Amy for brunch, thinking we would see the film Philomena since we've seen nearly everything the theaters have to offer. However, after a hearty meal, we arrived at the theater to find that our phone app was wrong and there wasn't actually a showing at the time we thought. Our only other option was Anchorman 2. We sighed in resignation, and also that we hadn't had a drink or two at brunch. But in we went.
The movie was not up to par of the first, though it tried very, very hard. Very. The film was continuously disrupted for us by somebody in the back who kept clapping at odd times through the movie and mumbling. It was annoying, to say the least. It became more creepy, however, when the clapper came to the front of the audience, right in front of me and Amy, and stood for some time about 10 minutes before the movie was going to end. He just stood there. I couldn't see much of him, but I could see a couple of bags in his hands, a bald, shiny head that was reflecting the limited low light, and that he was fidgeting. I didn't like it. I didn't understand why he was standing there, why he was fidgeting, and I immediately made a mental note of the easiest escape route towards that red exit sign, figuring I'd jump the barricade and grab Amy if things got weirder. Because, in this world we are in today, I didn't know if he was going to pull out a gun. I'm not kidding. He stood there, and then slowly started waving at everybody in the seats while Will Ferrell was making fart noises or something else - I was definitely not paying attention at that point. I wasn't really breathing, either, because what the fuck was this guy doing??? When he reached for his belt I froze and then he adjusted his belt and shuffled very slowly towards the exit. I finally took a breath - somebody with mental problems perhaps, but thankfully not a psychopath. I just read too much news, maybe. But if there's one thing I've learned in New York, it's to always be aware.
Now I'm back watching football with Jesse, hoping the Chargers can hand it to the Broncos again. It's not looking good in the 2nd quarter. Tonight's the Golden Globes, and I'll be finishing up my best films of 2013 list to post tomorrow!