Ten Dollar Ticket to Bed.
I keep driving by the shabby chic movie theater (within walking distance of my Denver apartment) on my way to and from work, admiring (from a distance) the midnight venues for repeated Saturday night showings. Each drive-by fills with mixed emotion -- the desire to stay up past 11:15pm in my thirties in order to enjoy a film I watched repetitively in my teens (the films range of Back to the Future to Goonies) pitted against the near impossibility that requires me to actually stay up (several hours) past my bedtime. I'm torn like clockwork, every morning at 7:30am and evening at 4:45pm, because I know if I thought I'd stay awake, I'd go. And if coffee would help, I'd drink it. But some things in life aren't meant to be, and - besides - my birthday gift from my 'rents (a year-long subscription to Netflix) should give me an out, or at least an opportunity to practice, what I know will never actually ever happen. Enjoy!
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