  The Girl with the Pearl Earning is to me what porn is to horny little thirteen- year- old boys.  It was extraordinary.  Lauren,  Robin,  and I went to a later show that usual,  because Robin had to (
and I quote)  “  straighten my bangs ”  which is,  apparently,  very necessary when your hair is curly to her degree.  But the movie was orgasmic,  just fucking beautiful.  The lighting and the gentle music score,  and the beauty of the actors.  Charlotte Johansen is gorgeous,  but Colin Firth looked simply perfect.  The make- out scenes between two members of the cast ( and what may or may not have been a sex scene,
 since I still stand firm in the opinion that people don’ t really have sex when standing up)  After the movie was the real action,  however.  G- Dogg’ s sister was downtown,  and it seems wherever a member of the family goes there are small wonders.  A gaggle of gawky,  jet- black haired boys were standing at the bottom of the escalator.  They were all so gorgeous,  so perfectly unaware that they’ re lethargy and dirty clothes were so wondrous.  As we headed for a bench to sit down,
 I was approached by one such POA.  Before saying anything,  he handed me a flyer,  advertsing a show next Friday.
 “
Do you ever go to shows and stuff?
 “
Yes ”
 (
This is wear I try to sounds witty and articulate,  not very well)
 “
 Well,  we have a band…  Elio…  you should come.  It will be cool.  There are a couple shitty bands playing,  but we’ re less shitty…  so,  you should come.
 “
Oh,
 cool.
 Thanks .  I was expecting him to walk off,  leaving me lingering and tasting his breath like in the over- dramatic romance novel my life with boys is.  But he didn’ t he sat down with me on the bench.
 “
 I’ m Eric.  He held out his hand.  His guitar- picking,  nail bitten,  beautiful manish hand.
 “
Anna.  We shook hands.
 “
 How old are you?
 “
How old are YOU?
 “
 How old do I look?  He smiled,  and I realized that this may be some form of flirtatious flirting that I wanted to dabble in.
 “
 Hmmm,  twelve?  Damn me and my relentlessly sarcastic tendencies!
 “
 Ha- ha,  I thought we were establishing a friendship here!  No,  really guess.
 “
20?  21?
 22?  23?
 “
Yes.  And you…
 “
Sixteen.  Who’ s counting?  And then his friend walked over,  and I may have gasped for air.  It was like Conor Oberst was standing before me…  the skinny body and the black hair and the solemn,  sullen look.  He then began talking to us about something,  but I wasn’ t really listening because I was thinking to loudly (
 OH MY GOD I AM HANGING OUT WITH A COOL INDIE BAND AND THEY ARE SO GORGEOUS AND I LOVE THIS…  OH MY GOD…  But the Conor Oberst look- alike simply shook my hand,  guessed that I was seventeen,  and talked to Robin and red hair ( his natural color)  Eric resumed conversation with me,  about my guitar- necklace I was wearing and how I really loved small venue concerts and how we “ definetly needed to come”  to their concert.
 “
I’
ll even dance for you !  Said by “
Conor”
 “
Ah,  well,  you’ re have to give us a sample.
 ”
 Said by a euphoric Robin.  Small gyrations ensued,  which Robin liked and I giggled at and Eric rolled his eyes at.  And then fate spoiled it when Lauren’ s father pulled up.  We had to leave.  I shook Eric’
s hand.
 “
 You’ ll come.
 “
You bet.  Affectionately…  Anna 
