I wrote a blog post a year ago about moving to a new apartment. I moved to the Miracle Mile area of Los Angeles, and I was very smitten with that old apartment building. It felt like a fresh start and I suppose in a lot of ways, it was.
I look back on the year and have to call it mostly a wash:
But mostly I feel like I spent the majority of my time in that empty apartment feeling angsty and sleeping in a bed full of clean laundry. Oh, and moving my car for street cleaning.
So I’m moving again. This time even further east - into a house filled with really great people and a big backyard and two hamsters. There’s a weird melancholy to physically leave behind a year of my life, even though I’ve already deemed it a fairly unimportant one.
I’ve been thinking about the friends I’ve made and the ones I’ve lost in the past year. People who won’t even know where I live anymore, or care. It makes me sad to lose people, even when it’s for the best. Leaving a physical place really brings that to the surface.
I closed the door on my old apartment without remembering to say goodbye, so here goes:
ONE - There was an old railroad track down the street from my mom’s house. After the line stopped running, the road that ran perpendicular to it was paved over and it made a short steep hill. More of a ramp, really. In high school, we used to pile into my friend Patrice’s Geo Prism and drive it really fast over that hill. Pretty sweet air.
TWO - There was this really shitty girl at my high school name Jamie Kenya-Lloyd. She hung out with all the popular kids, but none of their sheen seemed to attached to her. She was just loud and rude, without any of the sleek cool factor. One night, we took a bunch of phone books from the 24-hour Walmart, ripped out all of the pages and covered her lawn and car. She came to work the next day and in the quad in front of everyone, said, “Someone PHONEBOOKED my house last night.” It was partially the shitty way she said it, and partially the way she said “phonebooked” like it was a verb people were aware of. I don’t think she ever found out. Hey, fuck you, Jamie!
THREE - At a house party, after graduation, I watched a girl lose her virginity by the air conditioning unit behind her house.
FOUR - I sat in my first boyfriend’s Toyota Rav 4 for 30 minutes without saying anything, trying to work up the courage to tell him that I loved him.
FIVE - I worked in a small deli the summer before I started college. I made the fries and as a fundamentally lazy person, I hated that there wasn’t really anywhere for me to hide and goof off. I used to stand in the walk-in freezer and wonder if my life was over. My boss would always come looking for me and I’d get in trouble. I had a big, weird rash on my arm that should have kept me far away from food service, but no one seemed to mind. I lasted five weeks.
The last few months, staying up past 10 PM or so has been harder and harder to do. It’s weird, because I’ve always identified myself a night person. But now? Bed by 10, up at 7. It’s disgusting.
Last night, I went to see The Avengers movie at midnight with some friends, the ringleader being my good, good buddy Tim; who is a huge fucking comic book nerd. On the scale of one to Tim, I’m whatever number would think that The Avengers was going to be an Uma Thurman reboot. In fact, the only pre-Avenger movie I saw was Iron Man 2 and it stunk. So without further ado, here is my review of a franchise that I am not knowledgable on and couldn’t care less about.
Before the movie started, I had three cups of coffee and a 16 oz. Red Bull. Caffeine no longer works on me and I’m quite terrified about what that means for my body. It just a lot of coffee poops- nevermind. Not important. The point is that I was there at 11:45, sleepy as hell. I looked around and was unimpressed by the group of people congregating outside. There was like, one guy in a Thor costume. Everybody else just seemed regular. Like, they just happened to want to see a movie at midnight and oh hey, Avengers. Which I guess was exactly what I was doing. I like to imagine that whole crowd looking at our lackluster enthusiasm and opting to meet tomorrow at a more reasonable time. Maybe after lunch. Like a dry turkey sandwich or something.
But we didn’t we all went in, everybody yelled at the new Batman movie, although I think it was only because they felt like they had to. Anne Hathaway is lame, there’s just no getting around it. Then we were off! Samuel Jackson is in a hurry, a mean elf named Loki shows up and shoots blue light at people. Then Jeremy Renner is this Hawkeye character that shoots arrows and makes me feel deep, deep sexual feelings. They start rounding up all the other Avengers, Mark Rufallo and who ever plays Captain America and Scarlett Johansson’s perfect ass and breasts. And then there’s some talk about the blue thing that the elf came out of and then I fell asleep.
Now, falling asleep in public is a tricky thing, because it’s embarrassing and you’re not in a rational place. Like, you’re tired and you shouldn’t be ashamed of that, but you are because you’re tired and vulnerable. I fell into an immediately graphic sex dream with Hawkeye and it was awesome.
I woke up maybe 10 minutes to 5 years later, and some people were fighting about some stuff. Thor was there. It’s such an odd group, you know? Thor is an alien, fine. But his hammer is lame and why are the two coolest people, Hawkeye and Widow so peripheral? They’re awesome. More stuff about them, I say. Captain America makes a great joke about not getting references and then I fell asleep again. That kind of sleep where you hope you can just fall back into fucking Jeremy Renner but you can’t. So you wake up again and Thor is punching a robot lizard in the face.
The thing about all of those comic book dork movies is that they can’t live up to the hype. Especially this multi-movie story line, and nerd king Joss Whedon so heavily involved. So to make sure you keep the rage to a minimum, you just have a lot of awesome fight scenes and Scarlett Johansson’s fucking AMAZING tits and make that go on for an insufferably long time. The Avengers ended at least three times, wrapped up, closing credits could have come on, but each time I would start to wipe the sleep from my eyes, someone would be getting on a fucking motorcycle or whatever. And then there’s some SECRET at the end, if you wait past the credits, you’ll get a teaser that we won’t be able to escape in 6 month’s time.
We walked back to our cars, with no real discussion of the movie other than how UNBELIEVABLE all the minor characters looked in leather. And I realized that now that Harry Potter is done and Indiana Jones broke my heart, I’ll probably never go to another midnight movie. And that is so totally fine. There is something about it that almost makes me feel duped, even though The Avengers was something I had zero excitement or anticipation for. I drove home, and planned my Jeremy Renner shower scenario.