Yesterday I imported this Livejournal to Wordpress.com, so there are now two mirrored versions. I will continue to post at Livejournal (I love the LJ community, can't fathom the idea of leaving) as well as over here, which means that you, dearest reader, have your pick.
Sadly, during transport all my gorgeous comments got left behind. I know there are ways to import those as well, but am not so confident that I myself can figure how to accomplish such a mysterious task. So this is an excellent opportunity for me to ask you to, well, go over here, check things out, and maybe leave a comment or two, should you feel so inspired. And if you don't, no biggie, I'll still love you*.
I did it, of course, for the widgits. I adore you, Livejournal, and you've been good to me. But you need more damn widgits.
* albeit maybe just a tiny bit less...
Dude took me to my first Lakers game. It was not a "real" game, some kind of pre-season thing, but I didn't care. Partly because we had box seats. They were awesome. As was the dessert cart Dude warned me about, that came trolling past our door offering some amazing-looking cheesecakes and caramel-covered apples.
Dude had the box because of something or someone to do with his nonprofit organization, and he'd given some of the other tickets to Gorgeous Actress and Major Movie Star (who also work with his organization) and Star's posse. I had not met Gorgeous Actress before, although I'd seen a couple of her movies and remembered the photograph of her from several years ago that sparked off one of the season's biggest fashion trends. She was lively and friendly and charming, as Dude had told me she would be, and I was struck by a movement she made when she shook my hand: she bent forward from the waist, back straight, legs together, feet slightly splayed, and did it with such natural unconscious grace and precision that I wondered if she'd studied ballet (my guess is yes).
Star came late. I left the room to buy some coffee, and when I returned, there was a bunch of guys drifting just ahead of me. I was fumbling with my print-out ticket trying to figure out which part to slip under the laser-light thing that unlocks the door, when the guys drifted over to the same door. Which got me confused: was I at the right place, or should I be looking for some other room? Such details have been known to escape me in the past. "I think it goes like this," one guy said, taking my print-out, turning it around, and slipping the bar code through the laser thing. Which is when I turned and found myself looking eye to shadowed eye of one of his companions, whose face was lost in the darkness beneath the visor of his cap, and yet I recognized both the cap and the person who was wearing it. Yes, this would be the moment when I met up with Major Movie Star: when I was having a Major Blonde Moment trying -- and failing -- to open a goddamn door.
We know some of the same people and had seen each other around -- although I'm not sure he actually knows this -- and he had struck me in the past as almost laughably imperious and aloof. This was unfair on my part. I've met actors -- and non-actors -- who just breathe in the attention, can't get enough of it, suck it up like oxygen and go looking for more. This guy isn't one of them. He's been famous for a long time, but you don't get the feeling he's very comfortable with it, it just happened to come along with the job, a devil's bargain. I find this endearing. It's refreshing to meet a celebrity who's in it for the work, and not the celebrity.
He chatted with Dude about a movie he'd just wrapped, which happens to be a movie in one of my favorite genres based on a novel by one of my favorite authors and which I can't wait to see. He conveyed that filming it was a great experience and he seemed proud, and this makes me suspect that it'll be one of the best films of the year.
The Lakers won. Yay.