Refresher Course
We needed a couple of days. We gave them to ourselves. For a different description, go read faeboy81dc's most recent post. (Also, he has a nice photo of us as his new user pic, taken by Drew when he was introducing us to his new Boy ^_^)
He showed me the waterfront down at Old Towne (with an "e", of course) Alexandria. It reminded me a bit of the waterfront just about anywhere in the Tidewater area, while the little Virginia Kitsch place we went to reminded me very much indeed of some faux-colonial gift shops I've seen up in New York. As it turns out, it's cheaper to eat over there if you look past the high-end stuff ("Gaulois", anyone?), and the whole place is just really pleasant to look at. The waterfront itself is beautiful, though, and I look forward to seeing it again. We are thinking of taking the ferry/tour from Georgetown down that way on the next occasion when we have a day to ourselves with nowhere else we need to be. I haven't had the chance to be out in a boat in a while, and I miss it. I'm also living farther than a twenty minute walk to the banks of a decent sized river than I ever have, and going to such places has always been one of my principal methods of relaxing. I miss it terribly.
Last night I couldn't help but point out how cutesy and homebodyish we were being, going to Blockbuster and coming home with a couple of movies and ice cream. "The Other Boleyn Girl" was an astonishingly good movie, replete with sexy period costumes and the deep-seated psychological malfunctions of a type-A girl living in a true patriarchy. I was amused to note that the less politically inclined of the sisters was the one who ended up raising one of the most powerful women in world history.
"I Really Hate My Job" was a survival story, told through the lens of five hysterically unsatisfied women working in a little Soho restaurant. Topher was bored to tears by it (comparing it to Seinfeld, of all things), while I was instantly drawn in by it. The dialogue is incredibly subtle and straightfaced, even when it delves into the absurd, and it was refreshing to see a movie that didn't feel the need to perpetually explain itself. All of the characters are alternately hopeless and bitter, ignoring one anothers' personal dilemmae while desperately seeking help and attention for themselves. The story is a vignette, and while there are a couple of breakthrough moments, the end gives a sense of perpetuity. Everyone may change, and lives may improve (or get worse), but the rest of the world will still be there the next day, waiting to be served.
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In the meantime, I finished reading Plato's dialogue "Meno" this afternoon after my (apparently much needed) nap. It took me a few days to slog through it. I don't know how great or terrible the translation was, though it did irk me that the man felt the need to apologize in his introduction for any content redolent of homosexuality. I also worry that he took liberties with turns of phrase. Is "by your leave" common in ancient Greek? Unfortunately, as with the collection of Ibsen I left in Buffalo, I can't help but worry that the translation saps much of the life out of the text, but I know that probably can't be helped. Infusing it back again would require more artistic license than would be tolerable.
I have bookmarked the "Symposium" and "The Republic" for later consumption.
Plugging right along in the history of the District of Columbia, which is rife with bitter laughter, isn't it?
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I should have my glasses by the end of this upcoming week. I keep thinking how much nicer things will be when I can actually see them.
I love my boyfriend, my job and the city I live in. My mind is more active now than in a long time. I finally feel like I have my shit together for school in spring, and for the first time since leaving my father's house, I have a sense of future that doesn't involve spiraling off into an increasingly dissociative world. Life is good.
Oh, and the new play is coming along nicely. I should be done with the first draft by the end of this upcoming week. :)
He showed me the waterfront down at Old Towne (with an "e", of course) Alexandria. It reminded me a bit of the waterfront just about anywhere in the Tidewater area, while the little Virginia Kitsch place we went to reminded me very much indeed of some faux-colonial gift shops I've seen up in New York. As it turns out, it's cheaper to eat over there if you look past the high-end stuff ("Gaulois", anyone?), and the whole place is just really pleasant to look at. The waterfront itself is beautiful, though, and I look forward to seeing it again. We are thinking of taking the ferry/tour from Georgetown down that way on the next occasion when we have a day to ourselves with nowhere else we need to be. I haven't had the chance to be out in a boat in a while, and I miss it. I'm also living farther than a twenty minute walk to the banks of a decent sized river than I ever have, and going to such places has always been one of my principal methods of relaxing. I miss it terribly.
Last night I couldn't help but point out how cutesy and homebodyish we were being, going to Blockbuster and coming home with a couple of movies and ice cream. "The Other Boleyn Girl" was an astonishingly good movie, replete with sexy period costumes and the deep-seated psychological malfunctions of a type-A girl living in a true patriarchy. I was amused to note that the less politically inclined of the sisters was the one who ended up raising one of the most powerful women in world history.
"I Really Hate My Job" was a survival story, told through the lens of five hysterically unsatisfied women working in a little Soho restaurant. Topher was bored to tears by it (comparing it to Seinfeld, of all things), while I was instantly drawn in by it. The dialogue is incredibly subtle and straightfaced, even when it delves into the absurd, and it was refreshing to see a movie that didn't feel the need to perpetually explain itself. All of the characters are alternately hopeless and bitter, ignoring one anothers' personal dilemmae while desperately seeking help and attention for themselves. The story is a vignette, and while there are a couple of breakthrough moments, the end gives a sense of perpetuity. Everyone may change, and lives may improve (or get worse), but the rest of the world will still be there the next day, waiting to be served.
---
In the meantime, I finished reading Plato's dialogue "Meno" this afternoon after my (apparently much needed) nap. It took me a few days to slog through it. I don't know how great or terrible the translation was, though it did irk me that the man felt the need to apologize in his introduction for any content redolent of homosexuality. I also worry that he took liberties with turns of phrase. Is "by your leave" common in ancient Greek? Unfortunately, as with the collection of Ibsen I left in Buffalo, I can't help but worry that the translation saps much of the life out of the text, but I know that probably can't be helped. Infusing it back again would require more artistic license than would be tolerable.
I have bookmarked the "Symposium" and "The Republic" for later consumption.
Plugging right along in the history of the District of Columbia, which is rife with bitter laughter, isn't it?
---
I should have my glasses by the end of this upcoming week. I keep thinking how much nicer things will be when I can actually see them.
I love my boyfriend, my job and the city I live in. My mind is more active now than in a long time. I finally feel like I have my shit together for school in spring, and for the first time since leaving my father's house, I have a sense of future that doesn't involve spiraling off into an increasingly dissociative world. Life is good.
Oh, and the new play is coming along nicely. I should be done with the first draft by the end of this upcoming week. :)