One
of my many minor regrets in life is that I don't get to consume as
many movies and TV shows as I would like. I always hear people
talking about the latest shows and new movies and I'm sure I'd like
them if I could figure away to penetrate the initial barrier of
effort it takes to get into these things, but whenever I try and
watch something on my laptop, I invariably lie down to get
comfortable, and within half an hour at the very most, I'm asleep. Am
I narcoleptic or something? Is my brain broken?... it took me a week
to watch the four hour documentary 'The Century of Self' on YouTube,
because I could only watch it in one-hour instalments, and even then
I had to be sitting upright in my chair, focussing intently. No
phones. No Facebook. Concentrate, Fuckhead.
Today was a slow starter, I woke up around midday and didn't feel like doing much once I had, I drank a cider and a half, and hung out with Team Weekend, who had been out all night taking happiness. I'm really glad I didn't chose happiness when it was passed around early in the afternoon – although I did wrap some in foil and put it in my drawer for later – but without a distraction to keep my day moving, sadness started to creep in. I found myself lying in bed at 5:30pm, drifting in and out of a useless sleep, comedy playing in the background. I was unable to listen, no focus. Once horizontal, my mind begins to switch off.
The decision to go to the movies was one borne mostly out of a lack of other options: I searched 'Melbourne theatre' on google, and came up with a few burlesque shows (eugh) and one show that looked really cool, but that started at 6pm and so was probably out of reach by that point. Then I thought about the cinema (do people still call it that? Awkward wording). I haven't been to a movie since The Dark Knight Rises came out last year – I went with a German backpacker called Ralf Elze who always introduced himself as English and it was like, okay dude, sure, you hold a British passport, but I don't care how well you think you can speak the language (no better than any other Northern European), I and any other native speaker can hear your German accent a mile away so sorry, you're still associated with efficiency... anyway. So I went to the movies this afternoon, Ralf is not in this story.
I chose the independent (I think?) cinema on Collins St because I knew where it was from a failed outing where Brodie, his brother, Nairns and I didn't get to the spot early enough to get in to see a new skate video (STOP GETTING SIDETRACKED), and because I felt like I'd be more likely to be able to see something interesting there. Regardless of how regularly I watch movies, I still maintain a healthy level of hipster snobbery about the whole exercise. First I looked at the Steve Jobs pic starring Aston Kutcher, but I decided that dated early '00s reference and went with the altogether more sophisticated-sounding 'Stoker'. Nicole Kidman, oh how I know nothing of you or any other cinema figures! Something something something...
The movie was pretty great, I won't say 'fucking great', as much as I was tempted to, as I wouldn't really give it Five Tacos, but for as much as my irrelevant, although admittedly VERY ENTERTAINING opinion is worth, it was definitely a solid four.
Now I'm kind of sold on the idea of going to see more movies, see what good one nice experience can do? (that rhetorical chiding was more for me than anyone else) Tomorrow I might go to Fed Square and watch some shot film thingo narrated by Tim Minchin, and maybe I'll be able to conscript a lovely someone to come along with me. Other than that though, when I was waiting at the tram stop to go home I had an interesting interaction with a guy who approached and first commented on the book I was reading ('On The Road', again), and then asked which tram I was catching (109, for the record). I think he wanted to find someone to accompany the lady he was with on her trip on the 112, at one point telling her that, “it's a big city!”, before leaving anyway. What a strange thing to ask of a stranger; I already used up the word 'conscript' before, but it's pretty apt again here I feel.
All in all, a really solid evening from me. Bad thing turned good, and I'm pretty happy with my outfit to boot, but even without all of these frills and little happenings, the overwhelming positive spin to today would definitely have to be the soothing fact that HEY! At least no one died.
Peace, Taco.
Today was a slow starter, I woke up around midday and didn't feel like doing much once I had, I drank a cider and a half, and hung out with Team Weekend, who had been out all night taking happiness. I'm really glad I didn't chose happiness when it was passed around early in the afternoon – although I did wrap some in foil and put it in my drawer for later – but without a distraction to keep my day moving, sadness started to creep in. I found myself lying in bed at 5:30pm, drifting in and out of a useless sleep, comedy playing in the background. I was unable to listen, no focus. Once horizontal, my mind begins to switch off.
The decision to go to the movies was one borne mostly out of a lack of other options: I searched 'Melbourne theatre' on google, and came up with a few burlesque shows (eugh) and one show that looked really cool, but that started at 6pm and so was probably out of reach by that point. Then I thought about the cinema (do people still call it that? Awkward wording). I haven't been to a movie since The Dark Knight Rises came out last year – I went with a German backpacker called Ralf Elze who always introduced himself as English and it was like, okay dude, sure, you hold a British passport, but I don't care how well you think you can speak the language (no better than any other Northern European), I and any other native speaker can hear your German accent a mile away so sorry, you're still associated with efficiency... anyway. So I went to the movies this afternoon, Ralf is not in this story.
I chose the independent (I think?) cinema on Collins St because I knew where it was from a failed outing where Brodie, his brother, Nairns and I didn't get to the spot early enough to get in to see a new skate video (STOP GETTING SIDETRACKED), and because I felt like I'd be more likely to be able to see something interesting there. Regardless of how regularly I watch movies, I still maintain a healthy level of hipster snobbery about the whole exercise. First I looked at the Steve Jobs pic starring Aston Kutcher, but I decided that dated early '00s reference and went with the altogether more sophisticated-sounding 'Stoker'. Nicole Kidman, oh how I know nothing of you or any other cinema figures! Something something something...
The movie was pretty great, I won't say 'fucking great', as much as I was tempted to, as I wouldn't really give it Five Tacos, but for as much as my irrelevant, although admittedly VERY ENTERTAINING opinion is worth, it was definitely a solid four.
Now I'm kind of sold on the idea of going to see more movies, see what good one nice experience can do? (that rhetorical chiding was more for me than anyone else) Tomorrow I might go to Fed Square and watch some shot film thingo narrated by Tim Minchin, and maybe I'll be able to conscript a lovely someone to come along with me. Other than that though, when I was waiting at the tram stop to go home I had an interesting interaction with a guy who approached and first commented on the book I was reading ('On The Road', again), and then asked which tram I was catching (109, for the record). I think he wanted to find someone to accompany the lady he was with on her trip on the 112, at one point telling her that, “it's a big city!”, before leaving anyway. What a strange thing to ask of a stranger; I already used up the word 'conscript' before, but it's pretty apt again here I feel.
All in all, a really solid evening from me. Bad thing turned good, and I'm pretty happy with my outfit to boot, but even without all of these frills and little happenings, the overwhelming positive spin to today would definitely have to be the soothing fact that HEY! At least no one died.
Peace, Taco.
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