roomie sits on the couch tonight blissfully engrossed in miracle, the movie about our olympic hockey victory in 1980. (have i mentioned roomie is from minnesota?) i sit at our dining table, surrounded by a watered down whiskey, a coke, cigarettes and unopened mail. (mail=bad news!)
it's been a nice weekend, rainy and warm, and we spent hours at the movie theater yesterday. march of the penguins (hey, we thought it'd be educational!) was less than satisfactory. first, seeing any G-rated movie is a mistake if you see it in the afternoon. children. everywhere. really chatty children. we had to move to an empty part of the theater but we were pursued into that section, as well. here's a piece of movie theater etiquette: when your newborn starts wailing at the top of its lungs, pack up everyone and leave the theater. please.
we decided to wash the children's fare from our minds by taking in 'the aristocrats.' ah, profanity, vulgarity, incest, shit and bestiality. it was the perfect tonic to the curiously bloodless march of the penguins. (i'm sorry, if you intone pretty much from the beginning of the movie that some penguins won't survive the winter, i want to see penguin carcass; if you say predators are coming for the fuzzy babies i want to see that weird ass bird snatch a fuzzy baby, rip off its head and fly away with it. it's nature.)
we came home to watch tv (we're total potatos) and then had a brief discussion of race - again - and why people of color ask less questions about white people. roomie has come to terms with her privilege and i've reassured her i don't blame her for anything, though perhaps some reading would be in order. (remember that reading list?)
today, i stayed home to write. the Worst Romance Ever is in full swing, though i'm having some issues trying to keep my heroine from sounding like a humorless prig. it was good to puzzle some things out. i miss these times when it's just me, a cursor, a question and a pack of cigs. these are the things i miss most from graduate school.
...
B- sent me a short series of emails this week. it's been a couple of months (or has it been three?) since he and i were last together. our contact is spotty and usually follows a familiar cycle: a night together, several months apart, a tentative attempt at reestablishing contact, contact is made, another night together. and so on.
his last three messages went unanswered and sooner or later i'm going to have to figure out a way to say i'm not up for it anymore.
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