Exit Through The Drive Thru

I was lucky enough to attended the "super secret" premier of (graffiti artist) Banksy's Exit Through The Gift Shop on Monday night as Alie's "plus one", and boy, what a night it was. We arrived early (Alie, as press, was told to do so), and made a b-line past the graffitied red carpet into the foyer of the beautiful Palace Theatre, where a tuxidoed, ski-masked piano player perched over his graffitied piano playing old vaudevillian tunes.

Creepy, right? But the guy turned out to be nice.

We spent the first half hour or so walking, mouths agape, around the theatre, which literally blew our minds with its gilded charm and beauty. Even the bathroom stalls were something to behold, and we of course took photos of ourselves in the mirrors of the vanity area.

Miss Ward

moi

By the time we tucked our cameras back into our purses and made our way back to the foyer, a crowd was gathering. We carried our complimentary vodka sodas (w/ a splash of cranberry) and a bag of popcorn and comfied ourselves on the staircase to people-watch. Adrian Brody and Justin Timberlake? Both WAY hotter in person. Was that Jessie Spano?! D list celebrity or not, there was some great people watching here, and I couldn't help but wonder if one of the ski-masked ushers was the illusive street artist hero, Banksy, himself.

The movie was great, although not at all the light and fluffy piece the trailer alludes to. I laughed a lot, the entire audience did, but it was also a really interesting documentary about how the whole street graffiti thing came about, and what it's become today. I would defiantly recommend you see it, if/when it comes to your city.

After the movie, starving from having only eaten a scant bag of popcorn for dinner, Alie drove me through a drive thru I refuse to name due to embarrassment (okay fine, McDonald's) and dropped me off at the boyfriends house. Was it wrong to scarf unhealthy food from a corporate giant after seeing a movie about a man whose career sort of apposes such places? Probably, but that's a post for another time. Back to the boyfriend...

What's that? I haven't yet told you about my new boyfriend? Yeah well, I guess I kinda see blogging about your new boyfriend and getting your his name tattooed on your person in the same category - it's the quickest way to break-up city. It's been two months as of this evening, though, and I don't believe my blog has magical powers, nor do I plan on getting his name tattooed anywhere on my body, so I think I'm in the clear. It's going great, my friends. I'm stupidly, giddily, slap-happily mad about him.

Doin' the Charleston in the ballroom at the theatre.

Tonight is yet another press-pass-plus-one party that I'm attending with Alie, although this one is at Chateau Marmont which I've never been to and am DYING to check out. There will be wine, there will be hopefully something more substantial than popcorn, there will be boyfriend snuggling after. I'll be sure to tell you all about it.

My life has been extra lovely lately. There has been some exciting goings-on since the whole New York Times business that I can't yet talk about, but promise to spill once I can. In the meantime, this whole "not single anymore" turn of events has surprised even myself.