Dear Pete,
I only have a minute because I'm so busy getting ready for prom. It's prom night in the OC, and I couldn't be more excited. I plan to spend the night exactly as I spent my own prom night, at home in front of the TV, worrying about food poisoning and washing things. Something seems to be going around. I'm still not sure if it's bad egg salad or the stomach flu, but I'm not taking any chances. Speaking of vomiting, if the night doesn't end with Summer holding Marissa's hair as she heaves out the limo I want my money back. And if the next episode isn't a rally on her behalf, after she gets banned from attending graduation, I may stop watching altogether.
I also need to tell you about Art School Confidential, which I saw last night at the SFIFF. I think it might be a little bit of a mess. It feels a lot like a student film, unpolished and erratic, great in places and trying too hard in others, not unlike "Bathroom Boy," the student film that you and I helped make ten years ago. Terry Zwigoff and Dan Clowes can do no wrong with me, so I'll go ahead and assume that's what it's supposed to be. It also seems to borrow, weirdly, from Undeclared, which is probably reason enough to see it.
Well, I better motor. My hair's not going to wash itself, and I think something's gone off in the fridge.
Happy Prom,
Jenny
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