The last week or so of December I moved into my friend’s house. I actually lived here in 2005 when he and his now ex wife first got married and bought what has become this dump. It’s almost sad to see all the half done remodeling, undone seven years later. I’ve been very critical of my friend the past few weeks. He does, after all, live in a pigsty. In all of that criticism I’d forgotten two very important things. 1) He hasn’t been a dick about paying rent because he knows how bottom rung radio doesn’t even make you hood rich, and 2) All of these undone projects will always give him something to do, well into his retirement, when he’ll finally finish doing whatever it is he’s doing to this house.
He’s hardly ever here and we have opposite schedules which means I’m basically living alone again, just like PHPE (Pre Heart Pump Era). The negative, as stated above, is that his house is suffering from neglect. The positive is that I’ve finally had some time to hear my thoughts. I think I actually went through a secondary depression when I finally had a clear head to process what it means to be 27 with a heart pump. I still don’t know, but I think I’m further along in these few weeks than I’d been in the seven prior living with my cunt of a mother. Just like with Rudolph, if you ever saw it…
It doesn’t amount to the neglect of not having a functional dish washer or clothes dryer, but my friend is and has been without cable for some time. He will shamelessly go to his parents’ or girlfriend’s house if there’s something on TV he wants to watch. Fortunately or unfortunately, I still have some sense of what is and is not socially awkward/acceptable. Not near as awkward as when that same friend gave me the keys to his parents’ condo to crash on the couch for a few months while they were moving, but awkward nonetheless. Did I mention that he didn’t tell them I was coming? That gem also goes back to 2005.
The point of all that is to give background as to why I have no cable and have resorted to watching TV and movies online. Some of my co-workers recently revealed that they haven’t had cable in 5 plus years and provided me with some websites. I’d like to take this moment to point out that I actually have no issue with paying for cable, there just isn’t an adequate web based cable provider and I’m not paying $3 for an episode of anything. You have to remember, being in the hospital for 2 months and being out of work for at least double that time kind of fucked up my credit/ability to obtain cable by conventional means. Plus, I find myself broker than ever, both physically and financially.
I started out watching the last season of Dexter. Then someone turned me on to Parks & Recreation. I just recently, within the past several days, started watching movies online. It’s actually proven to be a great avenue for finding artsy/indie movies that take 6 months to come to Dallas if they come at all. First was Sleeping Beauty. Emily Browning has a gorgeous face but it’s odd to think of her as anything but a child. Then I watched Another Earth. I haven’t had a movie speak to me like that in a while. I also discovered Brit Marling. There’s something hauntingly beautiful about Marling’s character in Another Earth. Marling is my age, yet she has accomplished so much more. My biggest accomplishment will be getting this hurt pump out, which is to say my biggest accomplishment may prove to be nothing.
While looking for more movies to watch online, I watched the trailer for Submarine. And then it hit me. I own this movie. I immediately thought of this blog, which I’ve been neglecting, in part because commenting on streamed films seems like cheating on the original premise of going through my unwatched DVDs. (You’ll notice that guilt didn’t stop me from mentioning them above). I completely misunderstood where Submarine was going based on what I remember of the trailer. I thought Submarine was going to be a “love story,” something akin to 500 Days of Summer. It was really more about male adolescence and imperfect adult relationships. I know too much about imperfect adult relationships.
I’m almost convinced that the best a relationship can ever be is when you first meet someone. (I just watched Swingers, so bear with me). For example, earlier tonight I went to pick up the first sushi I’ve had in over a year. I forgot my wallet and had to drive back to get it. When I came back I had awkward small talk with the unconventionally gorgeous waitress while she rang me up and got my food. For the next few days I’ll remember her gorgeous smile that distracted from whatever piercing she has. But, I know if I pursued that further, if I even did so much as ask her name, that superficial one-time relationship and memory would be forever ruined.
In contrast, I also saw my cunt of a mother earlier in the day while gathering the last of my things from her house. I don’t know how I would describe that relationship. I get guilt trips like a husband, picked on like a little brother, and burdened like a father. It’s a bloody mess, worse than the sty mentioned above. (Of course I’m jaded when it comes to relationships. And fuck you for being judgmental). There were two main stories in Submarine. One was of the main character’s first relationship with a girl. The other was of the dissolution of the main character’s parents’ marriage. I never had the fortune/misfortune of seeing my parents go through a divorce. I think it happened when I was 2. I think because I have no memory of it at all.
The main character decides at some point that he has to choose between what I’m characterizing as a meaningless relationship with some high school nothing and saving his parents’ marriage. I see this a lot in films. One or more of the children attempting to reconcile parents. I’m assuming this happens in real life, only because art imitates life. My only frame of reference is Catch Me If You Can and, to a lesser extent, Stepbrothers. I’ve been put in a vaguely similar situation with my cunt of a mother’s (you should know by now that it is an official title she has more than earned) boyfriends, and in each case I’ve encouraged them to leave.
Even thinking that you have to decide between puppy love and family obligations reminds me of how skewed my priorities were in high school. I don’t know why I spent so much time thinking about that one crazy chick (you’ll notice from CT and the ol’ cunt that I have a history of crazy women in my life). The boy in Submarine describes his girl as being perfect, which is funny because all I saw when I watched her were glaring flaws, physical and character. Even with a looming death, I think he made the right decision according to the circumstances. I did, as well, deciding to go to New York instead of waiting out a dysfunctional and fizzling relationship with a less than sane person. I won’t ruin how Submarine ends. I’ll just say that I’m disappointed.
I’m still trying to grasp how Friday the 13th slipped by me. It’s historically been my lucky day, but Saturday the 14th has also been incredibly unlucky. I don’t know exactly what luck I had today, but I do know several things that can muck up my 14th (2nd day at studio in Arlington, second blood draw, life).
http://warp.net/films/submarine
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