1. I did talk to Jan Drago yesterday afternoon, though. I was worried I might miss her big announcement (I'm out of town through Tuesday.) She told me I'm not going to miss anything in the next few days. 

I asked her if she was still seriously considering jumping into the mayor's race, and she said "definitely." (She has filed a mayor's race exploratory committee.)

I also had a follow up question to my last conversation with her when she said part of what's pushing her to consider a run is the fact that Nickels has "destroyed his relationships with everybody" meaning the state, the City Council, and regional leaders. 

Had he destroyed his relationship with her I wanted to know? It seemed to me they agreed on most policy decisions.

Drago said he had not; that the pair worked well together—she explained that unlike some of her colleagues like former Council Member Peter Steinbrueck and Council Member Nick Licata, she had made a conscious decision to work with the mayor to get things done. But she repeated: "He's definitely destroyed his working relationship with the council."

2.  And I haven't had time to finish editing FilmNerd, BookNerd and NerdNerd this weekend, but here are some hot excerpts: 

I did remember that the moral of "Hansel and Gretel" was: Don't wander off. Don't trust strangers. What I didn't remember was that Hansel and Gretel were sent off because their parents couldn't feed them anymore. Somewhere along the line that part must have been Disneyed out.

"I've been dreading this," he said. I laughed. "Me too." In the real world, he was alarmingly pleasant to talk with. A 180 from bizarro world, he seemed shy and nice. It turns out he works for the red cross.

The editor who arranged the night saw us talking and shouted that we MUST kiss for a photo on the blog. He shook his head. I stalled. But the peer pressure broke us both down and eventually, with a camera flash, I kissed his cheek. After midnight, I rode my bike home, wobbly in the night.

The next morning, I woke up and vomited in the following places: my boyfriend's bathroom (twice), the bathroom of esteemed coffee shop Stumptown (twice), on the curb while riding my bike and in the bathroom at my office.

Was it the gin?  Was it the kiss? Three G&Ts has never been enough to do me in before so I have to wonder, was this the explosive effect of arch nemeses colliding? The world didn't explode, but my stomach certainly did.

Scope is a problem for every novel-to-film adaptation, and Katyn is no exception. The story is disjointed and jumpy, moving from subplot to subplot without allowing the viewer to invest.  Characters are underdeveloped and archetypal: The suffering wife and mother, the stoic general, the stubborn young firebrand.  Plotlines come from, and go, nowhere - a nephew appears 80 minutes in, only to be chased to his death minutes later by tyrannical police. 

3.   And here's a review of SIFF movie. SIFF starts in four days. 

Josh Harris was into online social networking before it was... pervasive. Josh Harris was into online social networking back in the early 80s, when most people were still trying to figure out how to use the floppy drives on their Apple IIe.

This visionary entrepreneur/experiential curator of mid-90s dot-com Manhattan is the subject of Ondi Timoner's latest Sundance Grand Jury Prize-winning documentary, We Live in Public, which opens this weekend at SIFF.

Harris's projects—like Pseudo, the first online interactive video/chat channel—earned him millions, which he spent on elaborate parties that evolved into elaborate art projects. The most infamous of these projects was Quiet, a Y2K New Year's 100-person sleepover where everyone did everything—sleep, party, shower, shoot guns, hook-up—on camera. You can get a quick sense of it by watching the trailer here:

Director Timoner met Harris at one of Harris' parties, and sort of became his personal chronicler; every time he has a new idea, he gives her a call. Timoner's film touches on the dizzying excess of the dot-com boom, but, more interestingly, it creates an intricately human portrait of one of its fallen kings—a guy who admits that he relates better to machines (and Gilligan's Island characters) than people.

We Live in Public plays on May 23 (Neptune, 7 p.m.) and May 25 (Egyptian, 11 a.m.). Director Ondi Timoner will be at both screenings.

For tickets visit the SIFF website or the box office kiosk on the 2nd floor of Pacific Place.—Heidi