The winter is really beginning to get oppressive. Not only is the cold terribly unpleasant, but it's actually become quite an effective deterrent in my efforts to leave the apartment. Not that this is all a bad thing, since there are many diversions to be had inside the confines of the dwelling that I share with Miss Charming Melodee in lovely Fort Greene, Brooklyn, New York.
We made a co-purchase of the Lost in Translation DVD over the weekend, our first such co-purchase of any movie, book, or music. Not really notable unless you're of the "who get's the stuff in the event of a break-up?" mentality. Of course, this was discussed on our way to get the DVD. We decided to wait and see. Anyway, we saw this movie in the theatre, but Miss CM received a phone call with some devastatingly terrible news, and missed the first twenty minutes. For my part, I was sitting in the theatre, at first sort of angry that she was on the phone and missing the movie, which we had both been looking forward to. Then, I transitioned into freakish levels of worry, wondering if I should go look for her. I imagined a scenario, wherein after the movie, she's still no where to be found, and the police are questioning me, asking me why I didn't leave the movie to go look for her, and me not having any reasonable explanation. Anyway, my initial feelings about the movie held true during the second viewing. Although we both read the relationship between the two main characters a little differently this time. I guess knowing how the whole thing pans out changes how you see the actions of the characters. Still, the characteristic that sticks with me the most is how well the film captures the feeling an incredibly and unexpectedly fun time that ends seemingly too soon. I've tried to describe this sensation several times, and every time, including in the previous sentence, it comes out terribly and not really what I want to say. It's best summed up in the line that says something like "We can never come back here because it would never be as much fun." I guess the feeling I'm reminded of is being on a trip somewhere, and having a remarkable experience that has almost nothing to do with where you are, but who you're with. You just have an unexpected, wonderful experience, and part of the wonder is that it's so intense and fleeting. Good lighting helps too. The non-romantic interaction of the movie really helps this as well, as in these instances, I think it's better when they're filled with "what if"s that are never realized.Anyway, it's still a great movie upon repeated viewings. I debated whether or not it was worth buying. I've bought too many DVDs that I only watched once (I'm looking at you, X2), and I'm trying to cut back on those.
One set of DVDs I'm still getting a lot of mileage out of is the Lord of the Rings extended version DVDs. I'm almost through with reading the Fellowship of the Ring, which has rekindled my interest in the movies (though there wasn't much need for rekindling). This has been met with some resistance from MCM, particularly on Friday night after we watched Lost in Translation, who has noticed an increase in my preferred amount of alone time. This is the product of a number of factors. First, I've sunk into a fairly deep winter-funk. I've been doing more creatively satisfying projects lately-writing, music making, etc.- but this has been coupled with a precipitous drop in my career and job satisfaction. No small task, considering the already staggeringly low level I've had the past two plus years. Add in a terribly interview I had earlier in the week, and I wasn't really in the mood to talk to other human beings. So I sat in the Rumpus Room, watching the DVD commentaries for the first two movies, and looking up names in online Tolkien encyclopedias. I actually didn't mean to spend so much time doing that, but I got a bit caught up and lost track of time. And I'd forgotten that she was going out of town the next day, so she was a bit peeved at my level of neglect.
As usual, though, there wasn't a prolonged length of anger, and things were fine by the next morning. The next morning, though, came much sooner than usual for me, as I had to get up at 8 on Saturday to help both Matt and Jed move into their new apartment, which is just down the street from me in Fort Greene. I was very happy to hear that they'd be moving into the 'hood, but not terribly thrilled at the prospect of assisting in the move. They'd helped me move in July though, so I owed both of them a move. I guess it was better to get them both out of the way in one day, but still a pain. Although the Jed portion of the move was pretty easy. Even if he hadn't packed anything at all, Matt and I were convinced that from the time we pulled up in the truck, we could've had all his belongings out of the apartment in about 12 minutes. He doesn't have a lot of belongings, and most could be thrown into several garbage bags.
Matt's items were a bit more laborious, as some belongings had to be taken to his parent's place in Bay Ridge since they wouldn't fit in the new abode. And a lot of very heavy and fragile objects. Still, with five people, the moves went relatively fast. Probably about 7 hours. And matt did provide McGriddles for breakfast and Mexican food for dinner. Nothing says appreciation like piles of cheesy enchiladas.
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