Musings on movies, TV, comedy, photography, and living with boobs and without spatial/motor/social skills in America.
A few minutes ago I was walking home from the bus stop and this guy almost hit me with his bike ON THE SIDEWALK NEXT TO MARYLAND SCHOOL FOR THE DEAF, and he called me a fat bitch under his breath. At the intersection he crossed the street and was about parallel to me when he hit a garbage can and wiped out. He got up and started walking his bike, still going in the same direction as me. Turns out we were going into the same building. I got there first and shut the door behind me with him about a foot behind, and he got buzzed in as I was on the first landing. He said, “Pretty cold for a bike ride!” and I rushed into my apartment door and locked it. Basically the most terrifying experience of my life.
Am I allowed to like Frances Ha? It came out so long ago, I can’t remember if it’s a transcendent celebration of youth, or a pretentious indictment of millennial hipsterdom.
Seriously though, I don’t want my opinion to be wrong. This could be like The Master all over again.