May 8th, 2002. Wednesday

 
    I've been averaging a little less than four hours' sleep a night this week. For no real reason. Monday night, I stayed up until 3:30 watching A Knight's Tale, for no particular reason. The movie wasn't very good at all, but for some reason I found it entertaining. The ending is of course totally obvious and predictable, but I really wanted to see how they got there. Anyway, last night I got a little more sleep, about 4 and a half hours. I managed to make it through about two hours of work today before needing to excuse myself from the building, to find someplace where I could close my eyes for a few minutes. Cos it was a real struggle. So I went across the street and laid on the park bench for about 10 minutes. Just now I was looking for someplace where I could inconspicuously close my eyes for a few seconds. I stood at the urinal for about thirty seconds, eyes shut for a bit. James was just hear, so I was getting his opinion on my eyes-shut-at-desk method. I just had him stand behind me to see if he could tell my eyes were closed He said he could not. So maybe I'll try this for a awhile. All this walking is making me tired.

    So after work, I ran over to the United Artist Theater in Union Square and caught the 5:20 showing of Spider-Man. I'd tried to go on Monday but I couldn't get tickets. I wasn't terribly excited to see the movie, but i knew I was going to see it at some point, and I had two hours to kill before my night job, so it seemed like a good way to pass the time. and the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to spend the afternoon at the movies, drinking soda and eating popcorn. I was a little worried when the somewhat mentally disable man next to me chuckled at every stupid joke during the preview for Stuart Little 2, but miraculously, he manged to stay inaudible for all of the feature.

    The movie itself was extremely entertaining, and that's all I needed. While I was watching it, I didn't want it to end. But afterwards, the more I thought about it, there were a lot of things about it that I didn't like, or didn't buy at all. Still, it kept totally absorbed for two hours, so whatever I didn't like about it couldn't have been that bad. The first thing that did strike me though, was the opening credits, which were completely identical to the opening credits for X-Men, except Spider-Man used webs where the X-Men used DNA strands. I also wasn't sure if we were supposed to think that the secret identities were figured out, and at the end when you realize no one really figured anything out until that point, it seems kind of ludicrous. And the CGI effects were terrible. I could've standed a less acrobatic Spider-Man for a more realistic looking moving figure. Everytime he flipped or whatever, it looked like a cartoon, like Roger Rabbit or something. Besides these little things though, I had really no complaints. Tobey Maguire was absolutely perfect for the part. All in all, a fine time at the cinema.

    Toward the end of the movie, I realized I'd eaten way too much popcorn. Actually I'd gotten a small bag, so it wasn't really the popcorn. It was the butter. I've long raved about how much I like the UA theater, because the butter there is self-serve. But I always knew I walked that thin line between happy indulgence and severe stomach sickness. And that line was crossed yesterday. All throughout the night job, I felt worse and worse, like I had to throw up. It was no better on the walk to the subway. I thought of Rodzilla, who this happens to every single time we go to the movies. The pattern is: Enter movie. Buy popcorn. Eat most of popcorn before movie starts. Leave movie, complain of sickness. Say something like "I can't ever eat that popcorn again. Don't let me get popcorn next time." "Ok." I say. Then, at the time movie engagement, I want popcorn. I know she wants popcorn too. So we get the damn popcorn. Then she eats too much. Then she feels sick. and on and on ad infinitum. I've never really been that sympathetic, especially given the frequency with which it happens. And it's no fun to hang out with someone with an achy stomach. This again is only annoying because of the frequency. She has a fragile digestive system. But yesterday, for the first time, I could totally understand what she'd been going through all these years. It took me having to go to the movies by myself to experience that kind of pain. Stay away from the yellow oil.

    Man, am I tired.

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