On Saturday, I was reminded why I hate Chicago shows. Instead of dancing, everyone just violently pushes each other no matter the tone of the music being played. Aggressive? Sure. Violent? Hardly. Catchy, celebratory, and very dance-able? Entirely. So, of course, it'd make sense for there to be just shoving and punching instead of actual dancing. Stupid fucking white people. Regardless, I enjoyed myself. The first band that played was some sort of fucked up combination of Hawthorne Heights, Insane Clown Posse, and 90s boy band pop. It sounds funny until you have to actually experience something like that.

I also was reminded of why I should love Chicago. Music Box Theatre. The host of amazing movie nights. This Saturday was A Nightmare on Elm Street (a personal favorite) and Swamp Thing (a worthless fucking movie that was a lot of fun to laugh at). Wes Craven movie night, I suppose. Who cares about Wes Craven; I kind of don't. Robert Englund (Freddy Krueger of the A Nightmare on Elm Street series) and Ray Wise (Leland Palmer of the show Twin Peaks, villain in Robocop, The Devil on The Reaper, news anchor in Good Night and Good Luck, someone on 24 that I don't know about because I don't watch 24, and one of my favorite actors) were there. I got up during A Nightmare on Elm Street to get something to drink (I think the two guys in front of me were sick of hearing me quote the entire movie, anyways. "It was like.. cuts happening.") Freddy Krueger, Leland Palmer. In the lobby. Want to say something. Can't think of anything that wouldn't make me sound like an asshole ("Do you kill your children in real life?" "Will you dance with me?" or the loserish, adoring fan that I am ("The final episode of Leland Palmer was one of the most intense and epic moments in TV history for me"). Fuck, I'm staring. Quietly get my drink and sit back down in the theatre. So. Fucking. Surreal.

So, I had a good weekend. School forces me to wage a war against my body and my sleep schedule. But enough about me. How are you guys doing?