Am I asking for too much? Did the mirror call my bluff?
I am home from a slightly frustrating doctor's appointment. Have a picture of Autolycus enjoying Bird Theater from the windowsill beyond my desk.

To match the Québécois locations of Hitchcock's inventively rigorous and underrated nail-biter I Confess (1953), which we can now deeply regret missing at the HFA in 2013, I showed
spatch 1952 Glendale in Crime Wave (1954), which seems to have secured its place as one of my favorite B-movies. I am never going to get over the ghost machine of film.

To match the Québécois locations of Hitchcock's inventively rigorous and underrated nail-biter I Confess (1953), which we can now deeply regret missing at the HFA in 2013, I showed

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I'm sorry the appt was frustrating.
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P.
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I'm sorry about the rest, but I am glad film could at least provide something good in the way of distraction.
I am never going to get over the ghost machine of film.
♥
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Doctor, cat, or movies?
*hugs*
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Thank you! That would be some doctor.
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He is the most photogenic cat, except when he decides to investigate the camera and I get a smear of nose.
I'm sorry the appt was frustrating.
Thank you. Solidarity on your medical travails, alas.
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Even more than The Naked City (1948), it feels like just hanging out in town for the duration of the story. It isn't even a Christmas movie, but there's the municipal tinsel. I love it.
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Thank you!
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Hestia and Autolycus would like it to be dinner theater.
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Well, amen.
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Our cats sometimes bat at the screen while we are watching, but they chatter only at the windows.
I'm sorry about the rest, but I am glad film could at least provide something good in the way of distraction.
Thank you.
*hugs*