I parked my car on Beverly Blvd tonight at 5:50, noting that the metered space was next to a sign that indicated two hour parking until six. Ten minutes. What are the odds? I thought. So I hurried off to meet Sirry at the Laemmle Fairfax Cinema. We were catchign a screening of a few short films. Sirry had a bit part in one of them, a little comedy called A Gothic Romance. It was actually pretty cute. Sirry’s part could have been longer, and all her dialogue was in Icelandic, but hey. It’s a start, right? It might have been tightened up, as so many of these films tend to be on the overlong side, but it had some great little moments. I begged off the afterparty because I was expecting a call from Melisande, whose wedding I’m DJ-ing on the 20th.
I returned to my car to find this on my windshield:
Note the time of issue. The weasel must have been lurking right around the corner. And nabbed by a poet, too.
Anyhow, I dropped by Rocket to say hello to the crew (Sara and Mark) and wait for Melisande to call. Sara told me she’d gone to Amoeba today and had something for me. So we went out into the sweltering night to her car and she gave me two records: The Pretty In Pink soundtrack and Everywhere at Once by the Plimsouls. On vinyl, no less. Sara’s fucking awesome.
Now it’s almost nine-thirty. Melisande still hasn’t called. I shoulda gone to the after-party with Sirry. Damn.