Downloading Star Wars preview
What great truths will be revealed?
Man, Hayden is hot

High above the Quidditch field
Gryffindor Seeker triumphs
Where’s Star Wars, dammit?

An eventful night, captured in haiku:

Went to see Harry Potter
There was no Star Wars trailer
Result: much suck-age

Harry Potter Harry Potter Harry Potter! Boy, am I excited. I fully admit to being the slave of the chugging Time-Warner-Thought-Police Marketing Machine, but I don't care! Are there toys?! I'll buy toys!!! No actually, I don't want toys (please, do not send me toys) but I am excited about Harry Potter. Shake your heads if you must, I know how you feel. I too once was cynical about the Harry Potter Phenomenon--I think anyone working at Amazon.com during the Book 4 release has some sour feelings, but then again I didn't have to talk to customers at the time, so I had it easy. Still, after that hype parade calmed down, I decided to just relent and read the first book, and that's all it took. Like all of the books, I found it a bit slow at the start, but once it starts rolling it's just no more or less than a ton of fun--I was going to say enchanting, but that's just too cheesy. I flew through the next three books in quick sucession. The fourth and the third compete for the favorite, in my opinion.

So Nell, Kristy and I are all going to the Harry Potter movie tonight, opening night! I dare hope that the late-night screening will be more full of semi-adult geeks than grade-schoolers, but who can say which is more obnoxious. And to top it all off, apparently the next Star Wars trailer (which reportedly has music and dialogue this time) is running ahead of HP screenings, though not necessarily at every theater. I hope fate is kind to me tonight, especially after the last trailer disappointment. Apparently there is another Episode II trailer on The Phantom Menace DVD, but I couldn't get the DVD-ROM portion to work last time I tried it, so that sucked. I'll let you know what I think...should you care, anyway.

Today after looking at a couple of apartments (nothing exciting), I had a total "I (heart) New York" moment. Nothing in particular happened. Maybe it was just that it was a 60-degree sunny fall day, and the leaves were bright and the sunset was lovely. Maybe it was that I saw an airplane pass overhead and it stayed in the sky. Maybe it was that the waiter at the diner asked how I'd been, that he hadn't seen me in a while. Whatever it was, it just hit home that I'm really here, and just that little thing is wonderful. Even if I find myself jobless and penniless in a number of months (and that's certainly possible), and am forced to leave this place, I will not regret a moment I spent here. I've had a crush on New York more than half my life, and now I'm finally getting to know it a little. Whether this turns out to be a quick fling or a long-term relationship remains to be seen, but for now I'm falling in love, and that is worth everything.

Dag-blamit. I so thought I was done with the apartment search. Shame on me for thinking things could almost be easy in NYC. I found this great studio to sublet. The location was excellent, near the subway, the apartment was very cute, the rent was reasonable. The tenant (a really nice woman, about my age) was going to Italy until August, and possibly longer. It was a great deal because I would be able to use her furniture so I wouldn't have to spend money on a lot of stuff. She and I hit it off right away and she was happy when I told her I'd take it. There was only one possible problem--my cat. The landlord said no pets but she thought she could talk him into it. Unfortunately, despite my excellent references and the tenant's effusive arguments in my defense, the landlord wouldn't budge on the pet issue. She is so upset she is thinking about giving up the apartment altogether instead of getting a different subletter, which I guess is oddly flattering. She even said she might lend me her furniture while she's away, if I needed it. Garsh.

So, the other day I was really excited because in addition to the studio I had also seen a one-bedroom for the rock-bottom price of $700. I expected it to be a dump, but it was quite cute, clean and spacious, with a hilarious older Russian couple next door who knew practically no English--they insisted I come inside and meet their cat. After seeing total crap for $1000, seeing this nice $700 place was amazing, and I seriously thought about taking it. The downside? No refrigerator! Again, with the absent fridge--what is it with this town? So, I figured for $700 a month I could buy a fecking fridge, but the real downside is that the place is in the BFE of Brooklyn, way way down south in Bensonhurst. (Bensonhurst trivia: apparently most of "Saturday Night Fever" was filmed there). It's supposedly a very Italian neighborhood, but I have only seen Russians. My pal Nell lives in the neighborhood, which is a plus, but she also works there so it makes sense for her. Since I expect (hope) to work in Manhattan, the hour-long commute (I timed it from Union Square, door-to-door) is bound to be an issue. Also the fact that the nearest subway or bus is at least a 10 minute walk away. No big deal most of the time, but in the dead of winter? Or when I have a load of groceries? Not sure I like that idea. ALSO the neighborhood is quaint, but not really bustling with amenities, places to eat, etc. It's about a 10-block walk to the main drag, and again there's no bus or anything that would help on a rainy or cold day. So, I'm thinking probably not, but I am going to look at it again tomorrow, just to make sure.

Which sucks, really, because after seeing two places I really liked, I have to start all over. Before going to Bensonhurst I'm going to try to see a place in Harlem, but who knows? I half-heartedly looked at some shares, but after being so close to thinking I'd have my own place, the idea of having roommates just bums me out. I might have to give in and sign on with some brokers in the neighborhoods I like. Broker fees are insane, but at least I don't have to pay them unless they actually find me a place. Sigh.

In happier news, I guess, I went to see "Shallow Hal" on a whim. I was so sure it would be one long fat joke pretending to be a morality tale, but actually it was a morality tale pretending to be a Farelly Brothers movie. Whereas "There's Something About Mary" fully realized the brothers' potential for combining biting farce with a kind heart, their next two writing/directing efforts seem each to embody only one side of their split personality, and not as well. "Me, Myself and Irene" was so callous the love story fell flat, while "Shallow Hal" is nothing but sweet -- so much so you wish they'd throw in a gimp joke just to take the edge off.

Jack Black, who of course is brilliant at playing an obnoxious oaf, surprised me in his ability to act, though most of the time he's not called on to do much more than a softer version of his usual schtick. When it came to Hal being all ooey-gooey in love it felt a little off, but because I'm sentimental I enjoyed his few moments of shared screen time with the REAL loves of his life, girlfriend Laura Kightlinger and his Tenacious D partner, Kyle Gass. Most of the funny moments (none of which I recall at the moment) belong to JB, but I'd scarcely call this a comedy. As a fable with a rather obvious lesson, it tells its little story more or less competently, but I don't think the self-involved or looks-obsessed are going to come away enlightened. Also, I'm not altogether sure that it helps the audience to see most everything through Hal's altered vision. Once Ms. Paltrow begins appearing onscreen in her more 'robust' form, you kind of wish she would just go back to her radiant, willowy Gwyneth-ness. However much you want to love Rosemary for Who She Is, you know she's just a babe in a fat suit, and the whole thing kind of goes wrong. I wonder if it would have been more effective to see our hero falling in love with an actual fat person. Wouldn't that be more effective at challenging our prejudices?

Well well well, the sky fell again. I watched about ten minutes of CNN yesterday, and it about made me sick. Especially how the reporters kept trying to get people to talk about "casualties" -- everyone wanted a number, as if counting the dead was more important than the fact that there were dead in the first place. Even at noon CNN kept showing the same 3-hour-old footage of Queens on fire in this continuous 5-minute loop. As Jon Stewart said on The Daily Show, "I GET IT!" The news is seriously creeping me out these days, which is why I LOVE The Daily Show; it's my new favorite thing, along with that white tea face cream from Origins...

I think I found an apartment! I don't want to jinx it though, so I'll get into the details later.

I've been spending much of the last several days looking at apartments. I don't need to move until the end of December, but since I'll be out of town for the first two weeks of the month, I'd like to have something figured out by the week after Thanksgiving. It's pretty exhausting work, but a great way to get to know parts of the city to which you may not otherwise venture. So far nothing I've looked at really works--either it's nice but too expensive, or it's a shithole and too expensive. My favorite (in terms of comedic value) so far was a place in Queens--$950 for a basement studio with yicky indoor-outdoor carpet and no closets. And here's a bonus: I'd have to buy my own refrigerator. The landlord said "I'm required by law to have a stove, so there it is. But they don't make me provide a refrigerator." I can imagine hauling THAT to my next place. Most of you are probably laughing, but anyone who lives here is probably thinking "What part of Queens? Is it close to the subway? Are utilities included?"

I wonder if I should forget about finding a liveable space to call my own. I talked to a friend today who lived here nearly three years before she got her own BED. And no, she wasn't living with a lover. She shared a bed with a platonic roommate for over TWO YEARS. This is the reality of New York real estate.

I went to see Bobby Conn last night. Anyone who has a chance to see him, GO. He reminds me that being a Star is not how many people buy your albums or go to your shows. He does Glam in such a way that you forget all about Iggy Pop and Lou Reed and believe that nobody has ever done anything like this before, and it's a little spooky and a little dangerous. And when he puts on a huge, ridiculous pair of fuzzy dog-paw mittens and wanders into the crowd, jaded New Yorkers of all genders hope that he will stroke their faces and sing to them as if he's been in love with them his whole life. Make no mistake, there is rocking. The band (which includes my old pal Colby, amazing on drums), is spring-tight and so great at what they do that you soon forget how weird it is that this mismatched group of people ended up in the same band. You will never see anything like it again. Go.