There's a lot to do in DC, but right now, while Curtis looks for a job, we're generally lying low on the big-night-out thing. Don't get me wrong, we're going out and doing things, particularly searching out restaurants and visiting the free stuff (monuments, museums), but we're being careful with money, and trying to keep our adventures to a minimum.
Besides enjoying nights in, I'm pleased that we have IFC Saturday nights. Last Saturday, the offerings were Affliction
Reservoir Dogs
and Bad Lieutenant
Which, alone, was great. But add in one of my favorite movies of all time, if not my favorite, and it was a great night . . .
Tonight, the greatness continued. First, there was Chapter 27, which I'd never seen, but was glad I had the chance to do so tonight. Later, Bully is on; I saw that, and it's quite disturbing. Thirteen is also on, and while I find that movie terribly entertaining, I don't think it's quite the chilling gaze into the dark soul of American Teens it's supposed to be.
But, now, there is The Usual Suspects.
And I love this movie. It always reminds me of Tracy, although it is not, as Curtis thought, her favorite movie. That would be The Godfather.
I also just like the shock at the end. There are many critics who find the twist at the end too "cute," and I get that. But I don't care; I still love that movie. The first time I saw it, I'd been talked into watching it by someone whose taste in movies I found questionable at best, so I sulked through the entire thing, unimpressed and somewhat bored. The second Chazz Palmintieri looked at the fax sheet, though, I started to pay attention. I watched it again, I believe immediately after watching it the first time. And every time I've watched it since then, to this day, I start to smile when he looks at that fax. Even though I know what's coming.
I also like thinking about the career arcs of the actors in it.
Benecio Del Toro, for example. I'd never seen him before, and found his mushmouthed slickster Fenster attractive and charming. Then I saw him in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, which piqued my interest. His "Viva Las Vegas" montage in Snatch locked me in. Then he was in the heavy-handed Traffic and 21 Grams, and I let out a sigh.
And then there's Kevin Spacey. These were his glory days: this movie, Se7en, LA Confidential. Then American Beauty, which really didn't age all that well . . . and then came K-Pax and Pay It Forward, and, God help me, The Life of David Gale.
Of course, there's Stephen Baldwin. He was in this movie. And then he was in Bio-Dome. And that's all I have to say about Stephen Baldwin.
Next week, it's Another Day in Paradise, a movie I've never seen; Dancing at the Blue Iguana, an entertaining little ensemble piece about strippers, chock-full of stars; and The Notorious Bettie Page, a movie we borrowed from Carolyn. Pulp Fiction is also on, and I believe I'm the only living human being who does not think Quentin Tarantino is a genius. But that's another blog post.
February 26th, I'll be at a wine-and-cheese party at a friend-of-a-friend's house. And either later that night, or perhaps the night before, at a midnight showing, I will be at a theatre in DC, watching one of the best worst movies ever made.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Finishing up my series of posts about The Big Weekend
A few weeks ago, Curtis and I drove to the Uno pizzeria at Potomac Mills to meet up with Julie and Sherri. That was a good, but surreal, experience. It was, as always, wonderful to see Julie and Sherri; that goes without saying. (I know, I know: So why did I say it? Yeah yeah ha ha shut up.)
No, it was surreal because, for one thing, after being joined at the hip for some time, suddenly we were 6 - 8 hours apart after we graduated from Virginia Tech. The only times I saw them after 1997 occurred because I was in VA or they were in SC for a bridal shower, or a baby shower, or a graduation party, or a wedding, and then I went back to SC or they went back to MD and/or VA, or we all met in NC for a weekend.
Now, suddenly, I'm an hour and a half from Sherri, 40 minutes from Julie.
On one hand, one BIG hand, that's fantastic. I get to see them a few times a month, rather than a few times a year.
On the other, it's so strange. Because I'd become reluctantly used to seeing them a few times a year. IF I was lucky.
The strangeness contributes to my belief that I don't really live here. I feel like I'm on an extended vacation. Every time I've been in DC, well, EVER, it's because I'm here for a weekend, a week at the longest, and then I'll be leaving.
It started in 1983, when I was in the Gifted Program in War, WV. The Gifted Program was one of the few things I liked about my childhood, for a lot of reasons, one being the yearly end-of-year trip. In May that particular year, we went on a trip to Washington, DC, which was the first time I'd ever gone. We went to a variety of monuments . . . we saw a show at the Kennedy Center . . . we went to the Smithsonian. My favorite was the Natural History Museum. Also at the Smithsonian snack bar: I had the best hot dog I've ever eaten. Not kidding. We also went to the zoo, where I was enchanted by this wee teeny antelope called a dik-dik.
That's a baby, but they don't get much bigger than a small dog. Like 2 feet tall. TEENY.
But I digress.
Later, when I was in undergrad at VT, I heard about these mysterious areas in The DC Metro Area, collectively known as NoVa. I imagined these places to be fantastic wonderlands. Reston, you say? No doubt the streets are made of candy.
During undergrad, I went to DC a few times, but always just for a few days, and it was one big party the whole time I was there.
Right before my exciting trip to San Francisco with Julie, I stayed just outside of DC with her. Again: big party.
After that, I found myself in the DC metro area every now and again, mostly for friends' weddings and wedding-related things.
Over this past year, I've been to DC quite a few times. In June, I went to the American Library Association conference, which was in DC. I was unemployed at the time, but I was looking for a job in the library field, and I believed that going to the conference would help me. I'd network, meet people, learn things. I could talk about it in job interviews. This would be great. Also, I could see some friends and look at a city I really liked.
Then, months later, I was flown up to the area to go to an interview for George Mason University.
I got the job, and flew back up to look for a place to live.
So for my entire life, and definitely for the past year, I found myself in DC many times, in vacation-y ways. I was there for weddings and all their satellite parties--dressed up, having fancy foods and champagne! I was there for educational purposes--visiting neat museums! I was there for career purposes--staying in hotels, exploring various areas, eating at restaurants!
Now, suddenly, I live here. Driving on the Beltway used to seem like an exciting adventure; now it's part of my life. The shopping centers had interesting names; now they're just where I go to pick stuff up. All those monuments and DC landmarks are just 30 minutes away; I see them on CNN, and it's somewhat jarring. I think "That's half an hour from me now." The areas I always heard about in undergrad (Manassas, Falls Church, Vienna) are demystified--they're just areas.
And there's a part of me that still feels like I'm on a vacation. That I'm going to stop staying in this time-share townhouse that looks eerily like my own home . . . and I'm going to pack up all of my stuff (strange how much I brought this time) . . . and I'm going to get back on the plane at Dulles (or was it BWI?) . . . and I'm going to fly back home to . . .
Wait, where do I live again?
Right, the magical land of Fairyfax.
No, it was surreal because, for one thing, after being joined at the hip for some time, suddenly we were 6 - 8 hours apart after we graduated from Virginia Tech. The only times I saw them after 1997 occurred because I was in VA or they were in SC for a bridal shower, or a baby shower, or a graduation party, or a wedding, and then I went back to SC or they went back to MD and/or VA, or we all met in NC for a weekend.
Now, suddenly, I'm an hour and a half from Sherri, 40 minutes from Julie.
On one hand, one BIG hand, that's fantastic. I get to see them a few times a month, rather than a few times a year.
On the other, it's so strange. Because I'd become reluctantly used to seeing them a few times a year. IF I was lucky.
The strangeness contributes to my belief that I don't really live here. I feel like I'm on an extended vacation. Every time I've been in DC, well, EVER, it's because I'm here for a weekend, a week at the longest, and then I'll be leaving.
It started in 1983, when I was in the Gifted Program in War, WV. The Gifted Program was one of the few things I liked about my childhood, for a lot of reasons, one being the yearly end-of-year trip. In May that particular year, we went on a trip to Washington, DC, which was the first time I'd ever gone. We went to a variety of monuments . . . we saw a show at the Kennedy Center . . . we went to the Smithsonian. My favorite was the Natural History Museum. Also at the Smithsonian snack bar: I had the best hot dog I've ever eaten. Not kidding. We also went to the zoo, where I was enchanted by this wee teeny antelope called a dik-dik.
That's a baby, but they don't get much bigger than a small dog. Like 2 feet tall. TEENY.
But I digress.
Later, when I was in undergrad at VT, I heard about these mysterious areas in The DC Metro Area, collectively known as NoVa. I imagined these places to be fantastic wonderlands. Reston, you say? No doubt the streets are made of candy.
During undergrad, I went to DC a few times, but always just for a few days, and it was one big party the whole time I was there.
Right before my exciting trip to San Francisco with Julie, I stayed just outside of DC with her. Again: big party.
After that, I found myself in the DC metro area every now and again, mostly for friends' weddings and wedding-related things.
Over this past year, I've been to DC quite a few times. In June, I went to the American Library Association conference, which was in DC. I was unemployed at the time, but I was looking for a job in the library field, and I believed that going to the conference would help me. I'd network, meet people, learn things. I could talk about it in job interviews. This would be great. Also, I could see some friends and look at a city I really liked.
Then, months later, I was flown up to the area to go to an interview for George Mason University.
I got the job, and flew back up to look for a place to live.
So for my entire life, and definitely for the past year, I found myself in DC many times, in vacation-y ways. I was there for weddings and all their satellite parties--dressed up, having fancy foods and champagne! I was there for educational purposes--visiting neat museums! I was there for career purposes--staying in hotels, exploring various areas, eating at restaurants!
Now, suddenly, I live here. Driving on the Beltway used to seem like an exciting adventure; now it's part of my life. The shopping centers had interesting names; now they're just where I go to pick stuff up. All those monuments and DC landmarks are just 30 minutes away; I see them on CNN, and it's somewhat jarring. I think "That's half an hour from me now." The areas I always heard about in undergrad (Manassas, Falls Church, Vienna) are demystified--they're just areas.
And there's a part of me that still feels like I'm on a vacation. That I'm going to stop staying in this time-share townhouse that looks eerily like my own home . . . and I'm going to pack up all of my stuff (strange how much I brought this time) . . . and I'm going to get back on the plane at Dulles (or was it BWI?) . . . and I'm going to fly back home to . . .
Wait, where do I live again?
Right, the magical land of Fairyfax.
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