One of those days...
I took off work because I wasn't feeling well. I went to yoga class instead, watched Moulin Rouge, tried to conduct an interview, organized the caterer for my parents' upcoming anniversary party.
Now I'm standing in my kitchen in the middle of an almost entirely dark apartment, still in my yoga pants and sorority sweatshirt. No one else is home. I'm drinking Riesling from the bottle and reading Anais Nin's "This Hunger." Thinking that I didn't like Moulin Rouge, partly because the heroine almost had to die in the end to justify the ludicrous melodrama of the film, partly because she says to Ewan McGregor at one point, "I am the Hindu courtesan, and I choose the maharajah." My question is, what does her profession, or her choice, have to do with being Hindu? Is this something I should really be worrying about? I mean, there's only one black actor in the cast, and his character name is Chocolat. Maybe my complaint is a small one.
Thinking that Anais Nin is a good writer. As here: "She fell in love with an extinct volcano" or here "From the first, into this void created by his not wanting, she was to throw her own desires, but not meet an answer, merely a pliability which was to leave her in doubt forever as to whether she had substituted her desire for his." This is good writing, even if it is opaque and oversensitive.
Also, I hear Sonal talking, yesterday night, when we were standing around in the hallway. She was wearing a towel, arrested on her path to the shower by our conversation, and soon enough all five of us were in the hall, standing and sitting on the ground, waylaid by a discussion too good to pass by (this happens a lot in our apartment.) "Don't you just want to corner him? In the elevator? Don't you?" And Becky, "Oh my God, who?"
One of my favorite songs these days is "The Back Of Your Car." The refrain goes, "you're not yourself, you're not yourself tonight..." And features heavy open piano chords accompanied by a drum that sounds like an plastic pipe hitting a wooden floor over and over. That said, I like the song.
But enough dispatches from my mental twilight zone. I'm off to watch "Henry and June," based on the work of the aforementioned Anais Nin.
Now I'm standing in my kitchen in the middle of an almost entirely dark apartment, still in my yoga pants and sorority sweatshirt. No one else is home. I'm drinking Riesling from the bottle and reading Anais Nin's "This Hunger." Thinking that I didn't like Moulin Rouge, partly because the heroine almost had to die in the end to justify the ludicrous melodrama of the film, partly because she says to Ewan McGregor at one point, "I am the Hindu courtesan, and I choose the maharajah." My question is, what does her profession, or her choice, have to do with being Hindu? Is this something I should really be worrying about? I mean, there's only one black actor in the cast, and his character name is Chocolat. Maybe my complaint is a small one.
Thinking that Anais Nin is a good writer. As here: "She fell in love with an extinct volcano" or here "From the first, into this void created by his not wanting, she was to throw her own desires, but not meet an answer, merely a pliability which was to leave her in doubt forever as to whether she had substituted her desire for his." This is good writing, even if it is opaque and oversensitive.
Also, I hear Sonal talking, yesterday night, when we were standing around in the hallway. She was wearing a towel, arrested on her path to the shower by our conversation, and soon enough all five of us were in the hall, standing and sitting on the ground, waylaid by a discussion too good to pass by (this happens a lot in our apartment.) "Don't you just want to corner him? In the elevator? Don't you?" And Becky, "Oh my God, who?"
One of my favorite songs these days is "The Back Of Your Car." The refrain goes, "you're not yourself, you're not yourself tonight..." And features heavy open piano chords accompanied by a drum that sounds like an plastic pipe hitting a wooden floor over and over. That said, I like the song.
But enough dispatches from my mental twilight zone. I'm off to watch "Henry and June," based on the work of the aforementioned Anais Nin.
posted by Anika at 2:44 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home