I only saw Sunday’s episode of Grey’s Anatomy today. This means I’m am completely and totally racked with nervous apprehension for Monday’s episode which is still sitting unviewed in my DVR. They can’t possibly kill off Burke or Denny unless the writers of the show are intent on breaking my sensitive little heart. Izzie, on the other hand, after her hysteria, I could do without.

I was celebrating my boyfriend’s 25th boyfriend last night which I suppose is more important than the season finale of Grey’s Anatomy. We ate dinner at Bucca di Beppo, a local italian restaurant and then headed over to the Enzian theater to watch Art School Confidential. The trailer for the film was pretty much compiled from the funniest clips and you’d probably be better off watching that a few times than the actual movie. A few of the scenes that were meant to be funny simply came off as needless, cheap filler. The artistic protagonist of the film, Jerome, rooms with three other eccentric aspiring artists: a filmaker and a fashion designer. The fashion designer is effeminate and immediately presumed to be gay until he reveals he has a girlfriend. There is a beat of silence where the audience is supposed to chuckle (we don’t) because we all know he’ll later announce that he’s actually gay (which he does). I’m pretty sure homosexually can successfully be the butt of a joke in some other manner, a way that isn’t so predictably stupid.

I also saw Goal: The Dream Begins this past weekend, but I really want to dedicate an entire entry to describing the perfect bone structure of the leading male Kuno Becker.

The birthday celebration continues tonight as my boyfriend and I head over to a club called The Social to catch Imogen Heap in concert. I heard her first when she was a part of Frou Frou and couldn’t get enough since. I’m extremely excited, in fact, I think I just peed a little.