Next year, we're planning a trip to Toronto
It wasn't too long ago that the Boston Film Festival was a real festival, where you get the program and plot out where you want to go, figure on maybe seeing two movies on a weeknight and up to five on the weekend. You had to ponder whether you could get from one of the three movies playing at Copley Place to Boston Common. You could go through two books of ten tickets, decide whether you wanted to do a movie that might not play for months or might not play at all, see stars or see indies, all that good stuff. Last year it just imploded, and while there's a few more choices this year, it's not what it was.

Kate lost patience during the short program Sunday morning, which was a technical nightmare. That's when she made the crack about just going to the Toronto Film Festival, which runs at about the same time period as Boston's, and just has more movies and more choices. It's a big Oscar-preview festival, too, while some of the stuff at Boston... well...

She's bouncing back well, though, which is cool. As she puts it, thirty is staring her in the face and she can't afford a lot of self-pity time. I suppose I should get used to thinking that way, because women can't wait forever to start a family. It's funny, though, that she's a little jealous of my brain not being programmed to get married and have children before middle age makes it less likely, but we've got that programming for a reason. As much as having it can make us nuts, it does keep use continuing the species. It's quite possible I'll wake up in ten years and realize I'm not married and getting into "high-risk pregnancy" territory.

Bah. Thinking about that's not doing me any good, and it detracts from the important thing, which is that Kate's well past feeling sorry for herself and looking at other guys.

-Marti
- posted 10:29 PM - - (archive use only)