The Movies

The glumness always, without fail, sets in when I have far too much time ahead of me, alone, with nothing in particular with which I wish to fill it. So yes, maybe it's true, maybe I am just filling my life with small, useless activities to avoid confronting the deep-rooted depression that surfaces whenever I am forced to pause for a moment. That could be true. But you know what, I really don't care. Because if that's the case, it's really fucking deep/ I mean, it's way the fuck down there. And there's no chance I'm going to look that far inside of myself regularly enough to get in touch with it.

So today I had a panic moment of impending glumness. Already I posted about the smog this morning. And then I went to class and the teacher's friend had died. Then I went and got some tea because I didn't have any money to do anything else, so I just sat with my tea and stared. And then I came home and read about the war and wanted to curl up in bed. My homework was unappealing. My concentration level was low. I was tired and bored and had nobody to talk to. That tends to make me glum.

And so for the first time in my life, I just up and decided to go to an evening movie by myself. I've done this before during the daytime. Somehow it seemed so much more odd to do it at night.

It was superbly entertaining. I settled into my seat, only two down from a woman in her mid-sixties that was also in the theater by herself. I found that reassuring. I streched my legs, and giggled ad the advertisements before the film (they have ads and previews here befoehand, but more ads than previews). Mostly, I pondered why I don't go to movies alone more often.

Then a big fat man came and sat next to me. Of all the empty seats. He smelled like booze. Everytime he wanted to change positions, he had to sort of life himself out of the seat entirely because his body took up the entire seat. I had to lean to the far right to avoid the imposing mass on my left. And he must have burped his boozy breath my way at least thirteen times throughout the movie.

That's really not appropriate behavior.

But still, I had a great time. One piece of advice: if you're in a glum mood, and you're thinking a movie might cheer you up, just don't go see "The Hours."

However, I have officially declared this week Crazy Movie Week due to my realization that going to movies randomly is an excellent form of entertainment. I regularly forget how much I enjoy going to the cinema. Who cares that I didn't even like the movie? I still had a dandy time. So later in the week, I will go see "25th Hour," "The Magdalene Sisters" and "Y Tu Mama Tambien" (going to movies here is cheaper than renting them sometimes. A daytime showing costs me four euros, and an evening showing is set at 5.50 with my student idea.)

Dp you have any other suggestions for Crazy Movie Week?