So yeah. Last week happened.
And, it was, in fact, an entire week ago (err two weeks ago)--it feels like yesterday/twenty-three years ago. (It has a rather timeless quality to me.) However, I do know that it really did happen, because three things remain with me: a glad heart, a burnt nose, and a renewed sense of blogging purpose.
Above all, the TCM Film Festival reminded me of how much I obsessively love the film lovers community. YOU ARE ALL GREAT PEOPLE.
Unfortunately, I had been a bit out of the community for the last few months because of being a full-time student/almost full-time member of the workforce. I missed you all. All my classic film thoughts were stuck inside. I was unable to share with those physically existing around me, because no one cared about the Top Ten Greatest Vincent Price Mustaches or Why Dana Andrews Deserved an Oscar Every Year of His Life. No one cared for my Michael Caine in The Italian Job or Elizabeth Taylor in Cat On a Hot Tin Roof impressions (both are brilliantly spot-on, or so I've been told by
Anyway, Millie the Cat is ALIIIIVVVVEEEE. She's ALIIIIIVVEEEEE, [insert your name here]!
Warning: I should clearly make multiple short posts about the festival, but I am too gleefully excited, and this will in all probability be 80,000 words long. Your mission should you choose to accept it...
The story begins long, long ago. It was 2008 and I was 13 years-old. I was on a family vacation, and for the first time ever, I had my own room at the hotel. Furthermore, said hotel had TCM. It was a magical experience, and I watched so many movies--staying up all night long, every night. One film in particular was so lovely, I wanted to own it terribly: Hide-Out (1934). I googled, but could not find it anywhere, so I posted on the TCM message boards under the haphazardly created handle (I probably would have put more effort in, if I had known how it would stick with me): ILoveRayMilland. Someone there told me the bitter truth of its nonexistence on DVD, but I decided to stick around the message boards. I LOVED IT THERE. I also managed to meet a couple of fellow youngsters: Sarah and Simoa. Somehow or another, my name was shortened to Millie (from Milland), and a legend was born.
Anyway, flash-forward a year, Sarah starts a blog. And,in my perpetually copying state, I start a blog. I meet many wonderful bloggers, including Kate, Nicola, and Casey. We, the Nonfleshies (not in the flesh friends), at some point decide that we should all meet up in five years in some dramatic Cary Grant on the Empire State Building moment.
This festival was our moment; our time to shine; the day of destiny.
Anyway, after an excitedly dramatic meet-up that included me sitting next to a random baggage claim for two hours waiting for ANYONE to arrive while I just kept refreshing flight arrival information on my Kindle, I finally saw all of my lovely Insta-Fleshies. We had a crowded, bonding ride to the hotel. And then, we ate food (of course) and wandered about. Two stand-out moments (excuse the insane narcissistic amount of photos of me in this post):
Stop laughing. This was a very important moment my life. I had fulfilled my family's destiny, with the help of Sarah (seriously, my family was like, "oh cool, you're going to Hollywood? Have fun. STEAL JOHN WAYNE'S FOOTPRINTS BECAUSE LUCY AND ETHEL AND LIFE").
David Janssen and I. This is unedited in all its glory, because it alone truly displays my undying, slightly creepy adoration for my beloved Dr. Richard Kimble. Also, popsicles: a truly notable occasion.
I'm gonna stop here, because I really need to post this, but expect the next installments relatively quickly. It will include the time I went literally insane because I was standing in the same space once occupied by Jean Dujardin, late night chats with the Katester, meeting other bloggers (whoooo), becoming a member of Kim Novak's family, crying during Godzilla, and many more exciting tales.