My brain isn’t even on auto-pilot but almost non-functional. I used to feel guilty and decadent when I went to the movies during the day, then it became my job, and I found out that there are few movies I truly love anymore.
I go to the movies to feel decadent; how sad. My life was decadent enough once, now I experience it vicariously. This time of year I go at least once a week. The audience is diverse; I live equidistant from two large multiplexs and usually go to the Loews 68th Street. I get there a half hour before the first show, pick a good seat and read. It feels decadent.
At home I am always on the computer, or entertaining. I read in movie theaters, book stores, and parks. At home I feel as if I always have to write.
The air was exceptionally close for November and my head was throbbing so I went to the Loews which will always be the Sony to me because it was called that for about a second. Unless it’s with Lucia, Rafe and his wife, or a few other friends I prefer going alone as I don’t consider going to the movies to be a social event.
It’s something to do when alone, and it usually never fails to soothe. But today the air was stagnant and the movie horrible. I saw Derailed, and I have never disliked Jennifer Anniston before. She even had my post-divorce sympathy vote. But if it was meant to show off her range or another side of her it failed as she just came off sullen and one dimensional.
The air was still and my head was throbbing even when it ended. I had figured out who did what within the first half hour so it seemed very long and was torture to get through. But I don’t walk out of movies that cost $10.75, without the extra Fandango cost. The trailer for the new Woody Allen film looks like nothing he has ever done before.
Rafe, Lucia and I took Chinese out, recently from a new restaurant I had passed one day. It looked so beautiful I wanted to go in, until I remembered that I had just eatten. Generally I only like pricey Chinese from the Shun Lees, but there was something about this restaurant. The food was exceptional and I had planned to go for an early dinner, but my air pressure headache had begun to feel like a migraine.
I like eatting out alone ocassionally, though I have never figured out how to do Chinese dinners alone properly. Ordering one dish seems so forlon, but ordering two dishes seems beyond decadent. The food in this restaurant and I can’t think of the name is clean and seemed perfect for ordering just one dish.
I have always gone to Wildwood NJ with my don’t-hate-us-because-we’re-beautiful-bright-and-nice soap star friends. They don’t eat breakfast; it’s my only never miss meal. Every morning, no matter where I would go some very cheery waitress with a more Maryland than Jersey accent would say:
“Just one hon?”
For a long time I thought that should be the name of my book; Breakfast was “just one hon?” dinner was “omigawd it’s Chase.” The further away we were from NY the more meals we had comped. Find that fascinating.
I waver between solitude and totally social, and like both equally. Next week is Thanksgiving and after that, well this is the time of the year I’m really really glad I’m Jewish. Before I had so many non-Jewish friends, on Christmas I did the Jewish thing and went to the movies and ate Chinese food as they were the only restaurants open.
I have been almost linear lately and see that this marks a departure from that. I will depart to pamper my aching head and then watch TV.