Bed Written

The nostalgia cycle is already cannibalistic to the point where we're getting nostalgic for what happened this past Tuesday.

-- Robert Thompson, professor of media and popular culture at Syracuse University (via NYpost)

The week started out quite legendary. So what happened? I'm sick. I've been in bed for 2 days. I am surrounded by empty chip bags, chocolate bar wrappers, packages of cigarettes, and about 8 super big gulps cups. I am sustaining myself with short trips to the seven eleven. There is no food in the fridge, except for an avocado that I will eventually be able to drink in another day or two.

I watched movies, romance movies. Before Sunrise, followed by Before Sunset. A one two knock out punch of love. They should have never made a sequel to Before Sunrise, but like the lovers in the film, Jesse and Celine, the filmmakers just couldn't leave well enough alone. And now, the lovers admired so much in the 90's for keepin it real, by not exchanging any personal information, and leaving their evening of romance untainted by the damage of the day to day, have gone and ruined it all. By the time Before Sunset fades to black, we can pretty much assume that Jesse will leave his wife and child for his lost love, Celine. How lovely.

Forgive me for being the cynic, but this is the kind of bullshit that really fucks with the real world. Celine and Jesse barely know each other, they've never had to grocery shop, pay the bills, deal with each others families, or clean up after one another. Who wouldn't fall in love spending the evening whiling away the hours in Vienna and Paris? We're not exactly talking about love triumphs all, now are we.

That being said, I met a lovely woman at the club Tuesday night, I am in love with her. We spent the night making fun of all the gross drunks at an all night diner, exchanging views on the world, and swapping favourite song titles. I think I will marry her. Oh wait, that could be a problem.