For the second time this fall, I have run into Elijah Wood. This time outside the Alamo Drafthouse at like, 1AM. The other time was outside the Brixton in early October. But then I was wasted beyond repair and didn’t even know it was him.

This time, I was dead sober and just got out of a shitty movie, the temperature has dropped by like 25 degrees, and I feared that he would remember me as that drunk girl who jumped all over him and asked him what his name is outside the Brixton a few months back.

So I said nothing.

Boy should just move here already.