Blogathon: The Movie Of My Life.

So I stumbled upon Wide Screen World's blogathon "The Movie Of My Life" a while ago. The general idea of the thing is you cast the people in your life with actors who have qualities similar to your homies. Which is good fun, but I realized jumping on this bandwagon would be the perfect way for me to let you peeps know about a little change in my life that's coming up which may alter what goes down on this blog ever so slightly. Fasten your seat belts, because the contents of reality may shift during this post. 

Here's a story. M., the tiny, white girl with a lust for all things action, can clearly only be played by one actor:

Who were you expecting, bitch?

But M. has a problem. Her girlfriend/better half/the-only-person-she'd-watch-Enchanted-for is currently residing all the way in Atlanta, Georgia. Which sucks, because her girlfriend is drop dead gorgeous. Bond Girl Eva Green is here to help me explain the level of her gorgeousness:

Meow.

Now, M. is on a quest to move down to Atlanta and move in with said girlfriend. But before you go thinking this is a romantic comedy, there's one test that M. has to conquer. The one test that no New Yorker should ever have to face. The evil...merciless...sadistic...DRIVING TEST. Which will be played by none other than my favorite villain, Mark Strong.

I wish I had 1% of this man's swag.

In order to prepare herself for the challenges she must face to defeat the evil that is the driving test, M. must be tutored. Trained. Prepared in the art of subtle turns and easing up on the gas pedal. It should be noted that my driving teacher has a completely unintelligible accent, so there was really only one person who could fill his shoes.

"B'careful not t'hit tha caravan, ey? Dem dawgs're in der."

And so, M.'s training had begun. She sparred on the beach at dawn, she carried bucketfuls of water up and down long, winding steps, and she learned how to use chopsticks. Oh, and did some parallel parking on her down time. Granted, there were a few "bumps in the road"...

But M. was assured these things happen, and M. worked tirelessly to become a master of the driving art. Still, the driving test looms menacingly in the not-so-distant distance, but with a few wise words from her mentor (at least, she thinks they were words) and long hours of grueling training, M. has high hopes that she will prevail. Or, you know. Fail miserably and try again.

But in all seriousness, whether it takes me one try or twenty, I'm defeating that motherfucking driving test and moving to Atlanta with my girl. Which means my few and far between alerts on NYC movie madness (midnight screenings and the like) will be nonexistent. But...considering the fact they were pretty nonexistent to begin with, I don't think they'll be missed. But if I have any Atlanta readers (hesitant question mark?), I might throw a bone here and there once I settle in and find the sweet happenings in Atlanta.

And now I will return to Jules patting me on the back and use his badassitry to kill that test.