Remember, Boys and Girls: Fear Is the Mind-Killer!

2021-10-31T12:40:23Z

Woke up in the middle of the night from a dream, only remembered in fragments: Some kind of dinner party with members of Ben’s family (only I didn’t recognize any of them), and Ben was being a dick, telling me, I want to wake up next to Sarolta some mornings, and I was hysterical, turning to Ben’s family for support—I mean, this is unacceptable, right? I’m not wrong, right? And they kept turning their backs on me. Did not want to get “involved.”

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Odd dream. I don’t think I was ever overtly jealous of Sarolta. I kind of liked Sarolta, plus I would have made a damn good Sister Wife.

I was overtly… something… of Jayne LeGros. Because she was such a fucking cow. Humorless!

I asked Ben once, Why? and he replied, She sews my buttons back on when they’re loose.

Plus she saved all the bad poetry he wrote to her when they were 18. For 40 years! She saved it.

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Finished up a Remunerative Project in the early afternoon yesterday.

You have two options now, I told myself.

You can go tromping—

Except that it was raining on and off, and though at that exact moment, it was off—blue patches in the sky and a brilliantine sun shining down, down, down—I had a feeling it would soon be raining again.

—or you can go to the movies!

I went with option (B).

The local movie palace shows first-run films for six bucks. The pleasures of heated Barcaloungers and stale Raisenets can never be overstated.

I saw Dune.

I wouldn’t say Dune was the worst movie I’ve ever seen. Sure it was long, dull, monochromatic, portentious and pretentious. But then, so was the novel.

No, what I would say is that I was so distracted by how incredibly small Timothee Chalamet’s head is in relation to the rest of his body that throughout the two and a half hour movie, all I could do was keep flashing on this character from Beetlejuice:

You’re just being contrarian, Ichobod with whom I texted afterwards accused me. You’re over-reacting because he’s considered so attractive now.

I’m not! I replied indignantly. I’ve thought he was repulsive since I saw him in “Call Me By Your Name.” And I kinda liked “Call Me By Your Name.

But I am happy to report that heated Barcaloungers and stale Raisenets make movie-going a fabulous experience even if you’re watching something about a hero with a shrunken head.

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Remember, Boys and Girls: Fear Is the Mind-Killer!