My 100 Movies in 2014 resolution is going along at a rapid clip. I have watched 12 movies so far, and I am not even trying to watch at a faster rate than normal, and that seems like a lot of movies for it to be mid-January. I guess? I mean, I still eat and sleep and work and spend non-movie-watching time with Nordic Boy and family and friends and errand and do chores and exercise and do all sorts of other things in my day. Not to mention intaking copious amounts of other media like books and tv and podcasts and musics. Why do I feel the need to apologize for my movie watching rates right now and assure you that I have not fallen into a hole where my sweatpants have grown into my couch and my veins are filled with nothing but the oil and salt from too much popcorn? I don't know why, but I do. I WATCHED A DOZEN MOVIES IN TWO WEEKS WITHOUT TRYING BUT I AM STILL A GOOD MEMBER OF SOCIETY SHAME SPIRAL AHHHHHH.
Anyhoozle. Let's talk about 'em.
The Water Front
You know how Netflix has those microgenres in their recommendations? ("Classic tearjerkers with a strong female lead" or what have you). I wonder if they have one called "The People of Michigan Get Screwed But They Are Scrappy and Will Fight Back." If they do not, then they should. Think about it: you've got your Roger and Me, your Searching for Sugarman, your Detropolis. Listen, I am not knocking it, for I'm a prime audience for those movies, for sure. I am just saying there are a lot of them, which is unfortunate only insofar as there are so many ways that people are getting screwed and having to fight back about it. This one is about how water is being privatized in the Detroit area and how citizens in that area are fighting for their right to affordable water.
Big Boys Gone Bananas!*
Let me see if I can explain this. This Swedish documentarian makes a film about Dole, as in the banana company, that is critical of their business practices. Dole brings a lawsuit against him, and so he makes a film about his battle with them over the lawsuit. This is that film. Meaning, it's the film about the original film. The thing that fascinated me the most about this was the parts that showed the political process in Sweden. Which, hello, yes, me, boring.
The Island President
Another documentary (yes, I like a documentary) about Mohamed Nasheed, the former president of the Maldives, who is known for his fight against climate change due to the fact that the Maldives is being alarmingly affected by rising sea levels.
Elysium
Keep your expectations low on this one and you'll be fine. There are several under-explained plot lines, like one where Jodie Foster plans a coup whereby she can take over a computer program and yadda yadda she unseats the president (huh?), and I think she is trying to have some sort of South African accent (I think? or maybe I am projecting because the director is South African) but that goes horribly wrong. So just, expectations: low.
Gravity
Somehow we managed to find this still playing on the big screen in 3D, and I am so glad we did. It was definitely the most captivating use of 3D that I have ever seen, although if you are prone to the throw-upsies then you might not enjoy it quite so much. I guess I had never realized it before but the thought of being untethered in open space is effing TERRIFYING. And yes, basically the whole movie is: something goes wrong, figure out how to fix it, something else goes wrong, figure out how to fix it, something else goes wrong, figure out how to fix it. But I was totally engaged with that loop the entire time. I loved that the Sandra Bullock character was not sexualized in any way (Hollywood will usually find a way to put a lady in a sexy jumpsuit if she is to go to space). Even when she has to take off her space suit and she is essentially in her underthings, they are normal underthings and the camera does not shoot her lasciviously ever, which I'm just saying hardly ever happens. There were things about the script that I could have done without, but overall, I thought it was really good. And could George Clooney look any more Buzz Lightyear? I do not think so.
Wolverine
Yeah, you know the drill on these superhero movies. But this one was pretty good. Can I just ask you what the deal is with Wolverine's muttonchops and crazy hairdo? Is that like, his style choice, or is there something about his mutation that makes him have those things? In this movie there is a period of time where he has grown out all his hair, and then when he comes back to society, he unwillingly gets cleaned up by his rescuers, including a haircut and a shave. Next scene, he arrives with that damn cheek-beard and the headwings. So, did he tell them to style it like that? Or did they just have to for some reason? These are the things I think about.
Chitty Chitty Bang Bang
I remember as a child being FER-REAKED OUT by the child catcher, but for the life of me I cannot see why now. I also have a super strong memory of the Old Bamboo song and the Doll on a Music Box song. Oh Dick Van Dyke, I heart you. And also, BENNY HILL IS IN THIS MOVIE. That just don't seem right, people.
Dancing Dreams
Documentary about choreographer Pina Bausch and how she selected a bunch of teens in Germany who had never danced before and taught them her famous piece called Contact Zone. There were many things about this that blew my effing mind. First of all, the fact that these non-dancy, non-performy teens, who had all of the self-consciousness that teens have, actually did this piece which has many parts in it where you have to make yourself extremely vulnerable and awkward on purpose, was crazy. Second of all, that the community and the parents in that community allowed those teens to participate in a piece that asks such deep questions about gender and sexuality was astounding. Europe really is less freaked out about sex than we are. It was pretty awesome.
Before Midnight
The third in the Before Sunrise, Before Sunset, Before Midnight set of movies, and it was my least favorite. This one had a little too much "Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus" talk. Plus, I get that it's supposed to be showing different sides to a multi-faceted long term relationship, but these two really do not seem to like each other much at all. Even when they were being nice to each other there were constant verbal jabs and little cruelties and not a lick of kindness. I get that relationships can be hard but I just wanted them to break up already.
The Square
Documentary about the "Arab Spring," especially focusing on the events in Tahrir Square in Egypt, this had amazing footage, told a complicated story really well, and was simultaneously uplifting and heartbreaking. There was crying on my part.
Cutie and the Boxer
Documentary about renowned "boxing painter" Ushio Shinohara and his 40-year marriage to his wife Noriko. The movie showcases their struggle with poverty, their struggles in their marriage, and their artistic journey together. Noriko, who has assisted Ushio to the detriment of her own artistic career, is stepping out on her own with her artwork starring her alter ego "Cutie." Totally fascinating.
20 Feet from Stardom
Documentary that celebrates the largely unknown female back up singers that fueled Top 40 hits from the 60s through current times. These ladies got pipes, y'all. Loved it.
Woo wee. You stuck with this whole post? You deserve a dance. (Does this song seem dirty to you? "It's useful in the underbrush to have a hefty spear?" Anyone? Just me? Ok).
Me Ol' Bamboo, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang
Consumables #83
The Boy's Birthday
Oh my pretties! So many things.
My unlucky attempt at ice skating has left me no worse for wear, except yesterday all of a sudden my ankle felt janky all over again. On the plus side, when my ankle feels janky I get to call it my jankle. So there is always a plus side.
Lastly it was Nordic Boy's birthday this week and so we both played hooky for the day. We went to the Museum of History and Industry and learned us some stuff about local history like a couple of old farts (I guess you could say historic farts), and then we walked a bunch (the sun actually came out! In January! In Seattle!), and then I went to work for a few hours (oops, I only played semi-hooky), and then we went over to the Seattle ferris wheel and took a ride in that (this city is pretty pretty pretty), and then met up with Biogirl for dinner. It was such a lovely day for that dude o' mine.
Sliding On Ice, They're Watching You
Looky looky, it's 2014! Our century is fourteen, which means it is just getting acne, surliness will start to settle in, and it will spend a lot of time in the bathroom "just washing up." Ah yes.
My year has been going along pretty ok so far. I attempted ice skating for the first time in my life and it lasted a good 7 minutes or so. At that point it was time for my butt to kiss the ice, which it did. Unfortunately the romance shocked my ankle and made it so my ice skating career, at least for the day, was over. Let me ask you this, young readers. WHY do only little children get those ice skating walker devices? And also WHY do only little children get double-bladed ice skates? I saw many a whippersnapper fall on the ice and they all just popped right back up because children are made from bouncy materials. It's us older brittle-boned types that need extra help, is what I say. Anyway. As I wiped out (and hey you guys, ice is super freaking hard and causes butt bruise, in case you were wondering), all I could think was the exact same thing I thought as a child in Michigan every time I was forced to be in snowy environs and that is "I AM FROM FIJI WHAT THE HELL WHY" which is a perfectly reasonable thing to think when one is genetically predisposed to white sandy beaches and 80 degree weather. And THEN when I mention this ice skating fiasco to anyone all I hear back is about how this person broke a bone ice skating and that person got a concussion once when ice skating and another person ripped a tendon while ice skating. Like, 5 or 6 different people are telling me these things. WHY ARE WE ICE SKATING, PEOPLE. I do not understand the universe.
Anyway. Ice skating. Worst.
In other news I took my pal L to lunch for her birthday which basically turned into a symposium about Sister Wives, and if you watch that show too you know what I am talking about, Willis. I also hung out with my friend Jenny, and lastly spent a lot of time planning for the upcoming year with Nordic Boy (with spreadsheets!), because we are gigantic, festering nerds.
For those of you in the parts of the country that are buried in snow, I hope you are doing ok and that you have heat and supplies and that you aren't getting cabin fever. Stay safe, people (no ice skating). It has been making me positively warm in the heart-cockles to look at the Facebooks and see all the posts on there of people offering to make grocery runs for each other and shovel sidewalks for each other and make sure their neighbors are ok. I know some good peoples.
When Delium was a kid he thought that Hall and Oates were saying "SLIDING ON ICE" instead of "Private Eyes," and that's how I sing it to myself even now. Want to join me?
Private Eyes, Hall and Oates:
Holidays Out, New Year In
Happy New Year, everyone. I am thankful for all my blog friends, and wish you a loverly 2014.
Joy to You Baby, by Josh Ritter
2013 Lights Out
Jeepers Creepers
Happy Friday! Let's all put our silk pajammers on and creep into the weekend.
Oh-ah, oh-ah, oh-ah.
Creep, TLC
WTPH
This morning, I was running super late. I grabbed my stuff, got my coat, and hurried out the door. As I walked down my front stairs to the sidewalk, there, on the bottom of the stoop, on sidewalk level, was a pair of Nike sneakers. I could tell that they had been worn, but they were still pretty nice. The style was a little bit Grandpa-ish. They were perfectly placed, side by side, at the bottom of my outside stairs. Facing my house. I was in such a rush I just walked by them, looking over my shoulder as I walked away, thinking "is someone coming back for those?" It felt like a scene in an arty movie. Like there was some sort of meaning there that was just beyond my understanding.
Don we now our Christmas pantaloons
This weekend, it was time for me to put on my Christmas pants. I mean this in a figurative sense of course, because I don't own pants (well, I have one pair of jeans), although what would Christmas pants look like? I am thinking either a bedazzled Christmas scene sort of like a Christmas sweater, or maybe they are red velvet with white bottoms like Santa pants? Either way, I donned them this weekend, figuratively.
First up, Nordic Boy, Biogirl, Biogirl's dude, and I went to dinner at a fancy restaurant that was lovely, but I must be old and crusty because all I could think when I was in there was THIS IS TOO LOUD. It wasn't like we went to a club or something- it was a wine bar. But the way the room was set up caused the sound to bounce off the walls everywhere. So we ate and drank and yelled at each other, which I guess a lot of people do for the holidays anyway, so Merry Yelly Christmas.
After we got shouty with our Chardonnay, we went to this garden in the burbs that does a crazy ass Griswald style light display every year. There is no other way to describe it other than amazingly gaudy. It is a spectacle of gaudy. There was a chimpanzee made entirely of Christmas lights, you guys. Because, why? No one knows.
Saturday evening the four of us met up for dinner (this time at a delicious and appropriately-volumed establishment) and ate a gorgeous meal. We followed this by seeing some musical theater. Oliver! to be exact. I had never seen that show before, although I did have good nostalgic feelings about it because when I was a kid I was in this fancy choir and every year when the latest auditionees got the news that they had made it into the choir, we sang them "Consider Yourself" from Oliver! to welcome them. Is that not the most twee thing you have ever heard? I know. Anyway, I had good feelings about it going in. But you guys. That show is super weird! I mean, it opens with workhouse orphans who are starving, and they sing a chipper song about food. It's like We're starving! (jazz hands) Misery! (shuffle ball change) Life sucks! (But at least we are cute). On the up side, the lady who played Nancy had some powerful pipes so she blew the roof off for a minute there.
The final highlight of the weekend was hanging out with our dear Delium. Love that guy.
Weekend round up, over and out.
Lifting
To me, grief is like a fog. For the past six months, it's been hard to focus, concentrate, see things in front of me. I would listen to my friends and family talk, and I would hear them, but it was like I was underwater. I can hear you, but there is a roar in my ears, a scrim between us. I am trying to listen, I hope you know I'm trying to listen. I did all the normal things, I went to work, I met friends for dinner, I smiled, and the smiles were genuine, but they were labored, under that thick, blankety fog. I've wondered, these past months, what the purpose of this fog is, where it comes from in the brain. It's effect, it seems to me, is to make one feel a bit numb, which makes sense, I guess. I can see why a little emotional anasthetic might be helpful in times like these. "Can people tell that I'm having trouble?" I would ask Nordic Boy. "No, I don't think so. I can't believe you're pulling it off, but you seem ok out there." I went to work, I kept up with people, with things. When I was particularly spaced out, Nordic Boy would catch my eye and just look at me with that lovely groundedness of his and it would help me re-focus. Being a cheerful girl by nature, this sadness felt confusing to me. What do I do here? How do I do this? I was lucky enough to have a dad for my whole life who was truly unconditional, who did nothing for me except love and support me, who gave me the gift of understanding, from how he treated me, what simple, uncomplicated, open, supportive love was. He loved me, and that was all, no qualifiers, no hard parts, no hidden hurts. It sounds stupid, maybe, but I felt frustrated for feeling so sad, for not being able to live in the gratitude of it and feel thankful after he died. I wanted to think "thank you, thank you, thank you for that love," but instead all I could think was "this sucks, this is devastating, how am I going to do this without you?" My attempts to reach through the fog to people in my life have been less successful than I would have wanted, but I'm starting to feel resolved about that. Sometimes we don't get what we need from people and sometimes we do- that's the way life goes and there's no use fighting it. And that doesn't mean we're not loved. That fog is a powerful thing whether you're in it looking out or outside looking in.
When I smile at that Nordic Boy, it feels like a real smile, a joyful smile, a me smile, and there is no fog between us.
Decembhair
Hey you want to talk about my hair some more? Because we're gonna. So, I recovered from bad Haircuttageddon 2013 and I went to Michigan to visit my mom. While there all sorts of things happened, and one of them was that I took a box of my Dad's things and mailed the box back to Seattle. When I packed it, I thought, hey, as long as I am mailing this box, if there is room in here I might as well pack some of my heavier items that would have gone in my suitcase, because Nordic Boy and I packed super tight (one week, one small carry on suitcase between the two of us LIGHT PACKERS AWARD) so why not take advantage of this mailed box and stuff some shit in there, thus alleviating the suitcase burden? I put in a book, and my boots, and a sweater, and my hair dryer. I was not thinking about the fact that it would take a week to get to Seattle. More than a week because of the holiday, actually. Which left me Hairdryerless In Seattle. Which meant that even though I had a good haircut again, I now had ugly non-blowdried hair for days.
I am so sorry to discover this about myself. That I am such an effing pain in my own ass about my hair. But I am so vain that that song is totally about me, you guys. Ugh. WORST.
I am vain, but not vain enough to go out and buy another hair dryer for a week and a half, so that says something, I guess. I will say that I did a happy jig when that damn box was delivered today though.
You know what else happened? I was paying my automo-bills (Destiny's Child, wut wut) over the weekend and I discovered that while we were in Michigan someone here in Seattle was running amok with our credit card number. SIX THOUSAND DOLLARS WORTH OF AMOK. It's that sort of discovery that makes you not worry about your hair for a minute. It seems like our credit card people are going to be cool about it, but that was a jolt to the old ticker, I tell you.
Oh yeah, and there was that whole Giving of the Thanky Feelings Day that happened too. We had Delium and Biogirl over for the vittle times for that. The rest of the weekend was spent going to a movie (Hunka Hunka Burning Shirtless Thor 2), snuggling up at home, and turning up the furnace.
I solemnly lemon pledge to you that we will not talk about my hair again for a very long time.
Books
I love looking at the rows and rows of my dad's books, and I love even more that I know which ones were his favorites.
Winterize, Flinterize
We're in Michigan for the week to visit with my mom (how weird to not say "mom and dad" there) and help her hunker down for the winter months ahead. We have been taking her car in for maintenance, raking leaves, pruning trees, getting firewood ready, cleaning house, changing furnace filters, fixing little things around the house, etc. She still has lots of things that were in both her and my dad's names so we're helping her get everything into her name, and we're supporting her as she starts the gradual process of getting rid of my dad's stuff. Today we went through his closet.
Re-cut
So I called my salon and told them that my last cut was jacked up, and they totally redid it for free! I have now been suitably coiffed. The lady who initially gave me the bad shear job was not the lady I went back to, but she saw me when I walked in. Yeah, look at me, lady. I had to demand a re-cut. I felt a little bit bad about it for some reason, until the lady who did my re-cut sat me down and heartily agreed that I had a shit-do that was akin to Marcia Brady so I felt validated. And then she did the re-cut and made me feel re-cute. I know it is shallow but man I feel better now.
In other news I was out to dinner the other night and Tavi Gevinson was at the table next to me. I am not a celebrity gawker because please. But in that case all I can say is that I was happy that I was wearing a cute outfit. Because I care what Tavi Gevinson thinks of my outfit, apparently? And I think that Tavi Gevinson was looking at me, for some reason? It all made total sense in my head at the time. (This was post re-cute, just in case you were wondering).
Our power went out on Friday night, which was weird because it wasn't storming or windy or anything. Apparently it was just a breaker issue or something. It happened right as we were leaving the house to go out to meet some friends and our entire neighborhood was out and this may sound strange but when you live in a city things never really get truly dark outside. There are always lots of lights from houses and streetlights and such. When the power goes out, it is DARK. It was pretty creepy really. (Hey guys! I just wrote the sentence "what the power goes out, it is dark." Like a freaking genius). We drove to the nearest area where power was still on which is a retail area near my house-- like less than a mile away and the traffic was horrible. Not just horrible. HAH-Ribble. Then when we got there the entire neighborhood had shown up at the restaurant we wanted to go to, and things were crowded. When snow days and power outages happen and you get to stay home it is cozy and fun. When it happens and you have to get somewhere and fight crowds of people to do anything, it is stoopid awful. When the power is out...stay home, is the lesson.
That is all I got. My pajamas calleth.
Consumables #82
So, I got a haircut that I hate, you guys. I think it is totally fixable, so do I just go to a new person and tell them to fix it? Or do I go back to the person who messed my shit up and tell her that I need her to do it again? Do people do that? What is the equivalent of sending back the dish to the chef here? Tell me what to do.
This week we literally broke some ground in order to get ready for figuring out how to make our yard look better, which is on our list of house projects for 2014. Our house used to have oil heating, and we have since converted to gas, and since our upcoming yard project will require lots of digging, regrading, tilling, and all around general dirt-moving, we decided to get our old oil tank removed rather than just decommissioning it. So this week, that happened. I left Nordic Boy in charge of taking pictures of the process but, although he is awesome in many ways, that guy suuuuuuucks at documenting stuff. He forgets, or if he remembers, he takes a hasty snap that doesn't really show much. He is way more into the doing than the memorializing, which when I step back and look at it is way healthier just in terms of living life, but I WANT PHOTOS. Anyway. There are no photos of this to share, which you are probably thinking "fine by me because basically it would be a photo of a hole in the dirt" which YES, but the oil tank was actually kind of interesting looking. It looked like a baby submarine from the 50s. OMG WHAT IF IT WAS A BABY SUBMARINE FROM THE 50s? A crew of babies that look like Don Draper, swilling martinis and cruising around underground?
I like to give myself things to have nightmares about.
I feel like I haven't talked the pop cultures in a while. So many things. Let's just pick a few.
Movies
World War Z
I think I may be getting over saturated with zombies (which is exactly how zombies kill you! In a swarm! Only mine is a metaphoric swarm. So meta). Basically there are two things about zombie type movies that need to be there for me: one, the zombies have to be scary, or at least creepy. Two, the sense of what people do when society breaks down has to be interesting. I thought this movie started out really strong- there is a visceral panic that gets going pretty quickly right from the start. But the zombies never got scary, and after the first bit of the movie I wasn't getting much in the way of societal breakdown either. And the ending was pretty flaccid. (Is there a more gross word than flaccid? Sorry about that). But, it was fine.
Whore's Glory
I can't say that I enjoy watching a depressing documentary, but I want to know about these things that have happened, are happening. I am not a person who would rather not know. I think it's important to know. This one follows prostitutes in three different parts of the world: Thailand, India, and Mexico. It is unflinching to say the least. There isn't much here in the way of showing agency for the women and girls involved, and maybe the argument being made is that there isn't any. The vignettes focus on the day to day workings and do not touch on the larger societal issues or the problem of sex tourism or global trafficking or anything like that. It's just these women going through their day.
Comedians of Comedy: The Movie
This is a road movie that follows Patton Oswalt, Maria Bamford, Zach Galifinakis and others on a comedy tour in the mid-2000s. Every one of those people is exactly as you would imagine them to be behind the scenes. Just, exactly.
Aziz Ansari: Buried Alive
The best part of this comedy special is when Aziz does a back and forth with a couple in the audience about how they got engaged. I love it when performers can talk to an audience member and it comes off as authentic and funny.
Casablanca
Ultimate comfort movie, dudes. I know that Ingrid Bergman is a little annoying sometimes ("You'll have to do the thinking for BOTH OF US...") and the Sam stuff makes me a little squirmy, but Humphrey Bogart is such a badass, I love it. I love how contradictory he is. So world-weary all the time, and yet somehow he still manages to be suave. I mean, he looks wrung OUT. Also, he is a scrawny fellow when you really look at him, but who seems tougher than that guy? I just find him so unexpected. Love.
TV
Scandal
IS BACK. Holy smokes that show is risickulous. There really is no excuse for it. And I am watching it. And you guys, when Jake said "I play second fiddle to no one," weren't we all thinking GO NOEL! LESSONS LEARNED FROM FELICITY! Just me? Oh.
Brooklyn Nine-Nine
I really want this show to be better, and I think it might get there. I remember not thinking Parks and Rec was that great in the beginning too. Sometimes shows need to find their footing and that takes a minute. Three things I love: deadpan Andre Braugher, goofy Joe Lo Truglio, and weirdo Chelsea Peretti. The thing that is bringing me down the most is Andy Samberg's character. I think it's possible to do cocky and funny (see: Joel McHale in Community), but that is not coming together yet.
Louie
I am a little behind on this one, but I just have to say that I am so glad that Sarah Silverman showed up on this show because it was getting a bit much with all the crazy ladies. I mean, since Pamela left has there been a non-hysterical weirdo lady on there at all? Sarah Silverman just seems cool, funny, and not a nutcase. Is that too much to ask, Louie? I love you, but come on now.
I gots to go, peoples. I shall do the book items next time. Before I go, one last pop culture item. Did you guys see the Gap ads featuring Waris Ahluwalia? Can I just say that, if you would have told me when I was a kid that someone like that would be on a Gap ad, it would have blown my freaking mind. It makes me glad to see it, but it makes 13-year-old me so happy. I know, it's Gap, who cares. But still, representation matters.
NaNoReBloPhotoIceLovesCoco
It is that time of year where people are writing a novel in a month for NaNoWriMo, and other people are writing a blog post every day for a month for NaBloPoMo, and other people are doing a Photo A Day Challenge for the month, and still others are reading as many novels as they can in a month for NaNoReMo. I toyed with doing each of these things but ha ha who am I kidding? I am not going to do any of these things let us be real just for one moment please. But maybe I can step up the blog a little bit? Like maybe more than once every couple of weeks? Expectations. Set them low, is what I am saying.
This weekend I went further into a hole of non-peoplehood. I didn't intend for it to happen. I started out my weekend by attending a dance performance with Nordic Boy and Delium which was pretty good, but not great. It was one of these companies where they are so into the theatricality of the show (crazy costumes! weirdo lighting! mondo sets!) that they kind of skimp a little bit on the dancing. Which, I get that those other things are cool too. I am just partial to lots of dance content. Plus, the theater that we were at was trying to burn us alive, they had the heat turned on way past original recipe and up to extra crispy. I am never hot, but I thought I was going to turn into librarian jerky by the end of that dang show. After the show ended and the lights went up Nordic Boy looked at me and said "WHOO IT IS LIKE KENNY ROGERS ROASTERS UP IN HERE" and the people in the row next to us stared at us but we didn't care because we were melting.
The following day there was a windstorm and branches were falling off trees and power was out all over the place. Nordic Boy got called to work and this is where I fell into a black hole of no-people-ness. It was a sad sort of day. Nordic Boy did get home and we just sort of curled up for the rest of the night and that was fine by me. I swear to you it is very easy for me to go to a place where I think that I could live pretty good in a bubble with just that dude and me and be just fine not seeing any other face ever again. He is just so effing sweet to me I can't help it. I become crazy live-in-a-survivalist-compound lady. I get this feeling a lot more since my dad is gone. I kind of don't want to be a part of the world, in a way, I guess. Let me just live in my cocoon of uncomplicated love and I'm good. I guess that is a normal feeling at a time such as this, right?
Anyway, we stayed in and watched Casablanca and played cards and made food. Our power stayed on too, which was nice. I mean, I am all for being in a bunker, but I want full amenities too. Let's not get crazy now.
The rest of the weekend was spent in each other's company just like that, joined at the hipbone. I still feel so sad a lot of the time, even though I pretend not to be mostly. With that dude of mine though, I still look at him and smile, like, from my soul. It's kind of the only thing right now.
Sunday
Walked in the rain with my dude today. The view from our walk looked like this. Sometimes it's good to remember that it's not raining everywhere.
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