Just about a moonlight mile on down the road.

For those of you who don't know, Moonlight Mile is my favourite film of all time. I saw it the day it came out (Oct. 4, 2002), and have wanted to crawl into it and live ever since. Maybe it is my love of Massachusetts, or of the 1970s, or of simpler times that first drew me in. Perhaps it is the fact that it contains every single one of my favourite actors. Or that there is a great Post Office scene (my affinity for POs is odd and rarely indulged on the silver screen). I can't say. But I was hooked from the opening scene, and from the first moment Joe Nast (Jake Gyllenhaal) graced the screen, I was head over heels in love. And not just in the way of, "Oh, this character is wonderful; I find him attractive." It was really more of a depressive, guttural longing for a real-world equivalent. I would marry Joe Nast on sight, and marriage is not a concept you will hear me longing for often (as in ever...this is the girl for whom the idea of a white dress and big ceremony are positively horrifying and completely out-of-character, who wants to to married at City Hall and go to a Celtics game afterwards...and not a second before I am 30). Which is ironic, given my love of decorating, and big, classy parties, and fashion. I love other people's big weddings; I just don't want that for myself). Wow...check out that overly personal divulgence and divergence from the main point. THIS is why I don't like talking to strangers...I am honest to a fault, get nervous, end up rambling, and giving way too much information. Anyway.

The other characters prove equally ineffable. I would love to have JoJo (Susan Sarandon) as a mentor, benefitting from her unapologetic, acerbic sarcasm and the beautiful, simplistic honesty of her sentiments. Bertie would have been a perfect best friend growing up, and even now, I wish she were around to play a game of pick-up, hang out at the bar, and torment the boys in our similarly unassuming ways. And Ben. Poor Ben. He just needs to lower his shoulders.

It is always interesting when people ask me what my favourite movie is, as no one I have ever answered this question for has ever seen, let alone heard of, Moonlight Mile. So I am encouraging all of you to put it at the top of your Netflix itineraries. Although, I can't pretend that it's not most enjoyable to watch in the fall...it *is* set in Marblehead, MA, after all, as the leaves are changing and thick, oversized down coats become necessary.

I promise you won't be disappointed. It is such a beautiful film, and in the way that people who love bands that no one has ever heard of feel idiotically self-righteous, I feel quite unreasonably proud to claim this overlooked treasure as my film of choice.

Good eBay finds.

Because winning is so much better than just buying.

***A Note: If you try to out-bid me on any of the following items that I have not already purchased, I will have no choice but to excommunicate you from life.

My Boy Jeans are my lover.

I think I am going to buy two more pairs. The trouser jean has always been my favorite, but the Boy Jean might just be staging a Coup d'etat. Amazing.

Charleston Charm.

http://travel.nytimes.com/2008/07/25/travel/escapes/25charleston.html?em&ex=1217304000&en=0b8a05b1457ae8ab&ei=5087%0A

Wonderful NYT article on Charleston, where I will be next weekend visiting my grandmother. Though I am eager to leave the Southeast this coming year, Charleston (along with Savannah, St. Augustine, and Asheville) is one of those cities that makes the region shine.

Sunday yummies.

A mellow yellow change of heart.

So earlier this month I had purchased a black and white quilt from PB. I love my black and white, but I have done the b&w thing for what seems like eternity, and I was ready to give something else a try. So. I returned the black and white, took a leap of faith, and purchased the PB Songbird Duvet in Marigold, my new favourite shade. Let's just hope it stays on my favorites list long enough to warrant the purchase.

J.Crew Fall 2008 Collection picks

I was literally IN the store this past week when they were setting out the new collection, and I came very close to hyperventilation. It was no fluke that I was in the store when this religious experience occurred...I am simply always in the store. I am cursed with having a J.Crew about a block from my front door. Oh, what a plight indeed. Why does EVERYTHING in that place have to scream, "KAAAAAAAAAAATTTTTTEEEE"? Woe is me.

Homesickness.

I think being faced with the prospect of leaving California and returning to school in Florida (a thought which heralds the need for sedatives) has me thinking a lot about my nomadic life. It is my belief that in such times, we often revert back to missing the place(s) we originally emerged from, in my case, upstate New York and the Adirondacks. It is where I was born, and was my first home, and I miss the purity of it. Everything is so clean and crisp and natural, much like many of the spots I've come to love on the West Coast, especially in places like Seattle, Gig Harbor, and Napa. There is room for marshmallow roasting, canoeing, and long talks by the lake as the sockeye salmon simmers on the grill. People are so real, and are not sullied on a regular basis by the materialism it is so easy for all of us to get caught up in. I miss that so, so much, and it is absolutely nowhere to be found in Florida. A little bit of advice to all of you: never, ever, move to Florida unless you are lucky like me and have parents that happen to settle on the First Coast/in St. Augustine, which is the only figment of the state that values anything that is more than 20 years old. Florida is not a state of old souls, thus making my life there somewhat..lonely.

And whatever you do, do NOT assume Miami is a tropical paradise. It is more like an Inferno, the Dante kind, complete with all of the accouterments and personalities present in his nine circles.

On a brighter note, I love these little bits and pieces of my hometown in NY...