Nope
I saw Nope this weekend. Loved it. I have a crush on Daniel Kaluuya. He’s a slow blinker. I like slow blinkers. I also like the way he moves.
Anyway, it is an excellent movie. you should see it. (Although the scariest part turned out not to be scary after all)
After the movie there was a guy handing out these little cards to rate the movie, from CinemaScope. I’ve never done that before. it was a pretty basic survey, but it was still exciting. I love giving my opinion. It made me feel special (which doesn’t take much these days. don’t judge me).
Going to movie theaters right now is not the best idea. I’m real anxious about getting Covid again. I just wanted to see it so bad! I am not a good pandemic citizen. In my defense, it was an early matinee showing, on a workday, so there were not very many people in the theater. I think maybe 10-12, including us. and I wore my mask. Still. Is it worth getting sick? It’s my own fault if I get it again, but I will blame biden.
Ry saw the movie with me. He’s been emerging from his cave a little more lately, and we’ve been watching stuff together. I’ve been enjoying it very much. I’m being careful not to make any big sudden movements or loud noises, I don’t want to scare him off. just gotta play it cool. stay, go, doesn’t matter to me. it matters very very much.
He’s turning 18 in a few short weeks. I don’t like thinking about it. So let’s change the subject.
How about that 28-5 Red Sox loss. Ouch.
As I’m writing this (in my fancy new bed), my nose is making this tiny little squeaking noise every time I breathe. I can’t get it to stop. I’m sure if I looked it up it’s a long covid symptom.
Holy shit. Wait a second here. I just realized something. My new bed is 100% Gordon-free. It replaced the bed he and I once shared.
Whoa. This is kind of a big deal.
should I have done a ritual or something? god I didn’t even think about it. I just dumped the old bed in the trash bin. unceremoniously, without a second thought. Which, now that I look at it, seems quite fitting.
I remember reading something once about how all the cells in the body are replaced every seven years, and how nice to think that one day no part of my body will have a memory of his touch. It was a poem, so not exactly a medically, factually accurate sentiment but a seductive one all the same. I’ve never forgotten it. And next year will be seven years.
But now… well, now I have a bed he was never in. No imprint. No memory. No essence. Nothing seeping out while I sleep, his ghost can linger no longer.
This makes me happy.