Luis and I attended the historic Biograph (where Dillinger's infamous assassination went down) last night in a last minute move to see "El Tigre de Santa Julia"--a Mexican film at the Latino Film Festival. Luis had free passes, so I went with him. The movie was pretty cool, though we had to sit in the front row, basically laying in our seats looking directly up at the screen. Suffice to say, my already-sore back was hurting more afterwards. I enjoyed the movie--but, as with all movies that have subtitles that I must read because I'm a stupid monolingual white person, I'll have to see it again to really appreciate it, because most of the time I'm busy reading rather than watching. But the comedic parts definitely were funny.

One of the more interesting events occurred as Luis and I were walking to the Biograph down Lincoln. I noticed a sign across the street that had the name of an apt. complex I was looking into, and commented as such...off in my own world. Meanwhile, Luis turns to me and says, "Hey, wasn't that just your cousin that walked past you?" I turned around and yelled, "Julie!" It was her. Somehow, neither of us saw each other passing by. If not for Luis being there and saying something, we would have completely passed each other by without even knowing it. Isn't that amazing? And with Julie and her brother, I'm pretty close, so it's almost like passing my own brother on the street and not noticing. It made me wonder how often things like that happen? I mean, we walked right past each other, no more than four feet between us. She was coming FROM the Biograph and heading home after seeing a movie--she was volunteering at the Film Festival too. So we briefly talked and then went into the theater because we thought we were running late.