Transplanted Life
Thursday, March 31, 2005
Just blowing through free movie passes
I think I've seen six movies already this week, with one more tonight and Sin City this weekend, which is a lot, even by my standards. But when they line up like that, they line up like that.

First, Monday at 4pm I get an email saying I've got two free passes to a preview of Dot the i. Woo-hoo! At 7pm that evening, so if you want to use them both... I guess Chet and I aren't actually dating if I don't have his mobile number memorized, or at least written down in the address book I keep in my purse. So I call Kate, she's up for it, and we meet at the Kendall.

She said she and Carter went to a Celtics game Friday night. The Celts lost, and it was a big noisy NBA game. Not Kate's thing, but definitely Carter's, and Kate figures that he was trying to reassert himself, doing his thing, not something girly. She doesn't think he realizes he was doing it, for that reason, but when did Kate ever strike him as a spectator sports girl? She puts up with baseball because, living in Boston, she must, and besides, you can go to a game and just sort of hang with your friends, talking and stuff, until you see some quick motion out of the corner of your eye, and then you give the game your full attention.

Hey, I said, the male ego's a fragile thing. Mine's obviously been ground to paste.

She laughs at that, saying that it works for me. Whatever. Still, she says, it's fun to go to sports with guys even if you're not into the game, because they are, and when they don't go over the line into stupid, there's this really hot masculinity about them. That even though Carter's not the most alpha of males now...


... she smiles because this is obviously going to become a recurring bit between us. Anyway, she says, as long as he doesn't lose control, that makes him hot.

So, I said, it sounds like your hormones are fully in control of any irritation at not being told the whole situation earlier.

Well, they serve beer at sporting events, so it was pretty easy to temporarily take the edge off. She says it's funny, or maybe it won't be to me, but she thinks it's easier to handle because she knows Carter was Sam for much of last year. Like, if things were simpler, it would be weird, but now she's sort of able to think of Carter as not really tied to any body.

I say that is weird as the movie starts.

Anyway, good movie, I marked down that I found the female lead hotter than the male lead, although that would be reversed later in the week when I was watching Point Blank as part of the Brattle's "L.A. Noir" series. I guess it's the whole Lee Marvin being a man's man while Gael Garcia Bernal is kind of, well, pretty (and Natalia Verbeke just oozes sex while Angie Dickenson kind of seemed bored).

Speaking of the L.A. Noir series, I miss the Brattle's old "vertical" schedule. Before, if there was a rep series I was interested in, I'd just be able to schedule around Tuesdays for a month or so; now I'm pretty much having a week eaten.

And with that, it's time to go see To Live and Die in L.A.

Sunday, March 27, 2005
Happy Egg-Laying Bunny Day
Maureen probably thinks I'm going to hell for saying or thinking that. She's usually in her Sunday Best and out the door by the time I wake up on this day of the week, but today, we're talking her Best Sunday Best and knocking on my door asking if I remembered it was Easter, and maybe wanted to go to church today. I could tell from her foice that she had a mild disdain for those who only make their love of Jesus known on Easter and Christmas, although that hypocricy probably isn't quite as bad as my lack of interest in the church, period.

What can I say; just not a very churchy person. I've mentioned before that the whole soul idea worries me; if such a thing exists, do I have Martin's soul, Michelle's soul, some amalgam of the two, a brand new soul, or none at all. When you give that a good think, it really torpedoes the whole idea of faith. Maureen at least knows what she should be faithful in; she lives a good life and she will be eternally rewarded in Heaven. But me, I live a good life and maybe someone else's soul gets the top-flight treatment, or maybe I'm screwed because Michelle did something lousy three years ago. I've got specific questions about my soul.

And, besides, life on Earth is confusing enough. I kind of missed seeing Kate at the Sunday Morning Movie, especially since I've gotten used to her examining my dates like a sports coach reviewing tape from the game to tell his players what went wrong and what went right.

Chet and I went out clubbing; I figure it's good to choose an activity that reveals a little cleavage and allows me to demonstrate that I can handle myself in heels after a couple of drinks pretty soon after someone learns about my past. Just to let them see that I'm committed to the whole heterosexual girl thing. It seemed to work OK, although I do admit I sort of squealed as we were going into one of the Landsdowne Street clubs, since we were right across from Fenway Park and the World Champion Boston Red Sox have Opening Day there in just a couple of weeks, and start playing games that count in eight short days (seven, now). But, hey, he didn't complain, and we actually talked about that for a fair amount of the evening. I told him that I was actually there one of the nights they filmed Fever Pitch last fall, and he said that was pretty cool. Well, I said, it got cut because they had to shoot a new ending and all, but it'll probably be on the DVD.

Probably really no reason to go over the date with Kate; we had fun, he kissed me goodnight, we agreed to meet for a movie later in the week. I suppose I'm just being vain, wondering why he didn't make much of a move to do more than kiss me good night. Vain or horny.

Besides, I think she was going on her first real everyone knows everything date with Carter that night, too. Heck, it might be one of those rare times when I can actually tell her more than she tells me.


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