It's October 11th, but tonight is the first night that actually feels like October. Last night, as I took the train home from work, a light thumping was heard above, followed by drops streaking down the window I stared out of. At last, the cool front that the weather reports had been promising all week was arriving. It was a wonderful evening of moody rain as a faint chill began to fill the air. When I awoke this morning for work, the air was pleasantly brisk, the sky overcast, and-for the first time in months-the coffee was good because it was actually hot.
Now I'm drinking coffee again as I sit at my desk in my apartment, the window open, the autumn air giving the room a distinct literal feel that in turn produces an actual emotional feeling. Normally I wouldn't drink too much coffee at night, but it is Saturday, I have the day off tomorrow, and in about an hour I'm heading out to see Gone Girl. I would like to think that no matter how long a day it's been, Fincher's images and the insanely exciting buzz the movie's been getting would be enough to keep me entranced. But I don't want to take any chances. For a film I've been excited about for months, it's a bit sad that I'm arriving at this a week late, but I've literally had no chance to see it until tonight. And In a strange way I'm sort of glad I've had to wait till tonight, because there's a mysterious but undeniable connection between weather and movies, and the way the right kind of weather puts one in the mood to go out to the theatre is, for me, one of the many pleasures of visiting the cinema. Thus, on this chilly evening, I feel more excited about seeing Gone Girl than if I were to have seen it last week when it was 20 degrees warmer. After ten days of October, I feel the best month of the year has truly arrived.