Don't get me wrong, I had fun. The bestie is amazing and I adore him and he told me a story that he said I can't blog which of course makes me want to blog it but I wouldn't anyway because it's not really my story and even when thinking about it today and wanting to be all schadenfreude about it, it's a sucky situation and feel bad for all involved, even considering I really don't like one of the parties (that's as much about it as I think I can say while not violating any trust). And we watched hockey, which is great, even if the Caps were down 4-0 in the first period (the red cable knit sweater is 0-2 in Caps games and needs to not be worn anymore) and lost 4-2 and imaginary hockey boyfriend is PISSED today and I want to give him a hug. But everything tastes like Jameson and failure today and I threw up in the kitchen sink at 1:30 (don't tell my mom) and at some point I'll pull it together and be a real live grown up, right? Though at this rate I'm sincerely starting to doubt that.
I, fortunately enough, got to ensconce myself in the beach house and have been sitting on the couch watching Netflix movie after Netflix movie while drinking all the Dr Pepper in the world and eating crappy food. But too much movie watching kinda bummed me out.
First I watched No Strings Attached. Yeah, judge me if you will. I deserve it. I found it sort of adorable too. Though they started to create conflict between Ashton and the jerky doctor dude and then abandoned it. I really need to stop being such a stickler for plot. Frankly, it wasn't nearly as good as a previous Ashton Kutcher romance that I adore: A Lot Like Love. Again: fine, judge me. But that's a super adorable movie and Amanda Peet is gorgeous and if you say anything about her horsey teeth I will judge you because she's smart and pretty. Anyway, that was all well and good and light romantic comedy fare.
I then moved on to Morning Glory which stars Rachel McAdams being all perfectly flustered Rachel McAdams with the unexplored daddy issues and she gets to make out with Patrick Wilson who there was entirely not enough of in the movie because for christ's sake it's Patrick Wilson. See:
But I liked it, it was a lot more about McAdam's journey than romance and that's not a complaint. Harrison Ford was great as the crotchety ex newsman and Diane Keaton did that Diane Keaton shtick well. Overall I recommend it. Since you asked for my opinion.
Then I made a mistake and watched the much acclaimed Tiny Furniture. I had read the profile of Lena Dunham in the New Yorker awhile ago. Her new HBO show has gotten buzz and the clip I watched seemed super relatable. You guys. Tiny Furniture hit WAY too close to home. In a really really uncomfortable way. Replete with the conversation of her mother telling her she would be a great massage therapist. Remember when I failed the bar the first time and my mom said to me "I told you to go to massage therapy school." I certainly remember it. And the problem with Tiny Furniture hitting way too close to home with the whole over educated urban ennui thing is that this girl is 22 and living at home and trying to figure it out. I'm NOT 22 and living at home and trying to figure it out. This shit has GOT to stop. And change. There needs to be massive change. Massive. And while already sitting on the couch feeling all fail-y and hideous and realizing I look not completely unlike Lena Dunham who is not unattractive but...ya know, very normal person looking, it just...it's a bit much to handle right now. I was completely bummed out by that. Totally. Ugh. Failure. So much failure.
I texted Linds earlier that after spending $20 on lotto tickets, Dr Pepper and fast food I felt like a character in a Kevin Smith movie as my adventures involved shopping at 7-11 and Taco Bell. So it seemed appropriate that I would wrap up the evening with a Kevin Smith movie. I revisited Chasing Amy which I watched in high school (yes, I'm old) and only now actually means anything to me having had a multitude of life experiences. The Holden speech in the car remains one of the best declarations of love ever and the Alyssa screaming about him not getting it fight after the hockey game seems a lot more important now that I have had those multitude of life experiences and that I worry about someday having to explain them to a guy. But Smith sure botched the hell out of the ending and I had forgotten about what was the actual demise of their relationship. Really sloppy and somewhat juvenile, though I think that could be said of a lot of Smith's work.
Also, all the smoking was really unappealing, seems completely passé now. The use of pagers was hysterical. I remember my high school friend having one. (I never had, nor wanted, one. I also didn't get a cell phone until my college job required one in 2003. I remain the opposite of hip and cool.) I also wonder if even Smith cringes at the casual use of homophobic slurs in that movie and it seems almost impossibly odd to think that a mere decade+ later our attitude towards the use of that language has completely and totally changed.
But that bummed me out too. All the unrequited and true love going on. The meet cutes and connections running through three of the movies and then the abject failure feelings in one. Ugh. The couch is a nice place to be. The dogs are nice to have cuddling with me. The rest of it? There are some pieces that are missing that I can mostly ignore but sometimes it's all just right there in front of you, dancing on a screen and you have to face the things that are wrong with your life.
Here's to doing it better tomorrow.
(I'm now watching Killers which is, so far, kinda awful but apparently I am easily charmed by Ashton Kutcher and forgiving of Katherine Heigl. Shut up. You have weird tendencies too.)
No comments:
Post a Comment