Stay tuned, everybody! Am working on the new website so will keep you aprised of when it's up and running. Will be documenting my travels and such on the new site. Also another side project will be in the works so will fill you in on that as well.
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| Source: IMDB |
Before leaving Los Angeles, I caught an anniversary screening with a couple friends of the classic, the original, Back to the Future by Steven Spielberg.
Yes - it was even more glorious than how I remember it.
Look at those jeans! Those Nikes! The 4x4! How much of a lost cause was George McFly? Man. But within the midst of those tapered jeans and the quips of "Great Scott!", I remembered something. Hit me like a ton of - no, wait - hit me like a punch in the face. ('Hit me like a ton of bricks' is getting trite, I know.)
(Future Husband, take note!)
I love movies. I love TV. Really. When I was young, I wanted to BE in the movie, and meet Marty McFly, and help him on his journey to help George end up with Lorraine. I wanted to meet Eric Matthews and hear him yell 'Feeny!' in that distressed yet lovably, enthusiastic way. I wanted to live in Capeside with Dawson and Joey, next door to the Winslows and run into Steve Urkel, become best friends with the Fresh Prince of Bel Air, watch Patrick Swayze cut it 'a la Dirty Dancing, and make out with Leo DiCaprio's Romeo in a pool. Or elevator. (Baz Luhrmann's version).
