December 17, 2002
When I lived alone, I used to go to the movies all the time. I got into the habit early during my times of single bliss. It was the one thing I felt really comfortable doing by myself. I’d go every weekend; sometimes twice, if there was something I really wanted to see.
But now, as a caregiver, my weekend days are as tiring as my weekday days, and somehow it seems harder to get myself out. And my mom doesn’t like the movies; she can’t sit that along and can’t follow the story lines.
Sometimes my friend Joan calls and we take off on a Tuesday evening (when the non-mainstream movie theater has cheaper rates) to see movies, like Frida, that her male companion doesn’t want to see. Of course, I get senior citizen rates all the time, but, like all of my friends, she’s younger than I am – so I let her make the call.
But I also want to see the Star Trek movie (having seen all of them; having been a Star Trek junkie since the first episode – in the early 70s, wasn’t it?) I want to see the new Harry Potter movie, since I did read all of those books and I love how they play with mythologies. I become a kid again. The latest Lord of the Rings is right up there, too.
I need to laugh out loud more, and I remember doing that that when I saw Analyze This. Maybe I ought to see Analyze That. I never did get to see My Big Fat Greek Wedding, and my friends who saw it highly recommend it. I still haven’t seen 8 Mile or Bowling for Columbine, either. And then there’s Real Women Have Curves. Standing in the Shadows of Motown, which Tom Shugart highly recommends, isn’t even playing here yet.
I’m so far behind I’m never going to catch up. I’d better make sure my vcr is in good working order.
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