Madness

I watched The Forgotten last night. I was supposed to meet Randy and Laura at The Watermark in Mayville to watch a little two-piece band, but when I got there I did not see either of their vehicles. I went inside and didn't see them there either. By the time I got back through Lakewood, I was too late to catch the 9:45 showing of Batman Begins.

I'm pretty sure it was only last year that I started going to movies by myself. Actually, never mind - it was 2003 when I got back from Colorado. At first it was just as bad as going to eat at a restaurant alone. I don't mean the actual act of watching the movie. I mean buying the ticket with a bunch of couples around. Oh well, I guess. Why shouldn't I be able to watch a movie just because no one will go with me? I went to a lot of them last summer.

Anyway - so I was too late and ended up going to Blockbuster and renting a couple things. I got Curb Your Enthusiasm (Season 3) just in case The Forgotten freaked me out too much; I would have something light to watch afterward. I tend to like to watch something funny after a horror/thriller. Really just thrillers, because I usually find horror movies distasteful and stupid.

I would recommend The Forgotten to anyone who can handle science fiction. Some people can't. I know Aaron hates it because it's just too weird for him. If it's not realistic, he tends to focus on the unreality of things rather than the underlying premise that is being explored, which of course is what science fiction is really about. Many people in my science fiction English class last semester were pretty hung up on whether or not the book was realistic. Apparently they forgot what kind of class they had enrolled in.

It's no secret that I can become pretty emotionally involved with movies and television if they are touching on things that I find relevant to my own life in some way. Ben once criticized me for essentially seeing my life as The Wonder Years played out in real life. So anyway - I think the reason why the movie last night and of course Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind hit me so hard is because of how attached I am to my memories.

You know - I always start these things or compose them in my head and they're much more complete than they end up being when I post them.

At work yesterday, I recorded Grosse Pointe Blank on the DVR because I've never seen it in its entirety and I love John Cusack movies. So I'm watching it and he tells Minnie Driver's character that he's had dreams about her roughly five nights per week for the last ten years. I don't need to tell you what that reminded me of and started me thinking whether that's going to happen to me. Of course after the movie last night I predictably had a dream about Destini. Many times I can't remember exactly what the dream consisted of, I'm only left with the knowledge that her presence in it was pervasive and complete. Surely, this is madness, is it not? Obsession?

I will reiterate that I have not seen her since late July 2004 and have not heard from her via email since December. That doesn't mean that I haven't emailed her. But I'm not getting responses anymore. Probably because she has moved on and now views me as pathetic and/or crazy. Of course I don't know what I'm really asking for, because knowing how incredibly jealous I am, there is little chance that, given a second chance at things, I would be able to erase enough of my bad memories to allow a positive relationship to proceed. So maybe that's what she knows and she's sparing us both the heartache that would accompany any attempted reunion. I don't know. All I know is that watching Curb Your Enthusiasm was not a big relief - the last episode I watched featured Larry's wife going to see a play that her friend Brad is performing in, and Larry's first reaction is to say go ahead and go, even if he doesn't feel good about it. Of course the thing is a comedy and everything developed in a humorous manner, but I was stuck in a memory of mine. It was after the break-up and Destini was leaving my house to see a band play. I was doing her laundry. She was supposedly going to see the band because her friend Melinda liked a guy that played with them. Of course the guy was the cokehead and within weeks I found out that was the guy who she was sleeping with. It's possible no one else will see my mental progression on that one. Nonetheless, it was there.

Maybe that's why I don't usually finish these things - because I seem much crazier after I write it out than when I'm stewing over it in my head.