Last night (in keeping with our 5 Nights Out Per Week philosophy) we went to the Paramount to see "Blood and Sand," a 1922 silent starring Rudolph Valentino. It was actually not a very exciting movie, but my mild twitchiness (brought on in part by the horrible depictions of "the two types of women" and the strong, strong feeling that the Spain they depicted was most surely Mexico) was alleviated by the pleasant air conditioning (it got up to 91° yesterday - 94° in the U-district!) and the gorgeous costumes. I actually got us into the theater for free thanks to my incredible cojones - the movie series is sponsored by Trader Joe's, and they always give away tons of free tickets (otherwise it's $12, kind of steep), so I walked up to the box office and said, "I got a phone call that said there were some free tickets waiting for me at the box office ..." The TJ flunkie behind the counter said, "What's your name ... and can you tell me which store called you?" I told them my name, then added, "But I'm not sure if they were calling for my roommate or not," and said the U-District store had called. (Hah. I am such a liar.) They flipped through the pages as if looking for my name, then handed over the pair of tickets! Yes, I am a bad person, or cheap, depending on how you look at it, but I think it's probably another case of the nature winning out over the nurture, or the two of them combining together to make me amoral.
Today, after cruising through work (got an IMed invite to lunch from irrationalrobot, how the lazy testers do call to each other across the ether, I of course accepted), I intend to go to the 6:15 pilates class, then hit The Comet for a pint of happy hour cider at around 7:30. Oh, how I long for the company of a group of lovely smart people like I had on my trip. Care to join me?