So if Part 1 was growing maturity, Part 2 was like the last week before you and your high school girlfriend both go off to your respective colleges. When you got into different schools months ago, you knew this time would come. For years you had been sweethearts but part of growing up is learning to say goodbye. It’s a bittersweet feeling, you don’t want it to end. You’re both not naive enough to suggest a long distance relationship but not too callous to shed some tears when you think about parting. You go on one last date, visiting all the favorite places you have shared and the memories you made together. There is one last embrace and then you walk away.
If you have ever met (or been) a home schooled child, you may have noticed that there is a communication disconnect with the rest of the world. The years of cloistered living though having its benefits; better education, absence of peer pressure, etc. But there is a lack of social education that no parent could provide. Hanna was that girl who was home schooled until she was sent off to college, a time when you are supposed to be working on the final copy of your personality after the rough draft in high school. Hanna never knew there was a prompt in the first place. Now all that said, she is a wonderful woman. Smart, entertaining, and great taste in art, she has a refined intellectual mind. The issue is just when you think you are beginning to get to the depth of her personality, she does something bizarre or naive. This can be endearing and even interesting as you try to understand her perspective but not everyone is willing to invest that effort.
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows was like the little sister of friend you hadn’t seen in years. Fond memories associated with youthful innocence are recalled before meeting her again. Seeing her, you are struck by how much she has… grown. There are still the same charms you remember her having when playing those childhood games but they have been adapted into this new woman. The juxtaposition can be a little jarring, especially when she references sex, but appreciated all the same. She couldn’t have stayed young forever and you’re grateful that her maturity has suited her in a positive way. She has adjusted to the complications of adulthood with grace rather than trying to over compensate. Well, maybe a few stumbles (like when she dances.) Hopefully she’ll smooth those awkward moments out by the time you see her next.
I’ve talked about dating art school girls before. They can be pretentious, grating, and are rarely worth the effort. Black Swan is the girl that makes it all worth it. The pieces she produces guarantees her future fame. You lose words while viewing her work. But like any great artist, her neurosis fuels her brilliance. Yet so overpowering is her genius, her physiological flaws become charming. You are in the presence of something special, who are you to question its mechanization? Yes, you are in a constant state of stress around her, knowing things can turn sour on a whim, but it’s an experience you won’t regret.
I have never been a fan of the 80s. The fashion, the music, the style; all have an unappealing veneer. Tron: Legacy made me rethink my prejudice. As part of an 80s tribute band, her combined lampooning and nostalgia for the decade made her preoccupation infectious. The band’s technological twisted remixing of the era’s classics was enthralling. I was astonished to find my foot tapping and the need to say “radical.” Though the update needed some more polishing, a craving for more was felt after their set.
Rango would never be considered a typical beauty. I think her unique look is what kept her from being popular. It’s a shame, not only did I grow fond of her unconventional appearance but she backs it up with a clever mincing of words at every opportunity. Her dabbling in surrealism only adds another dimension to her allure. She’s the kind of woman everyone should appreciate but few do.
Paul was very similar to my last date. Both were all about movie nostalgia. Both like rewatching the same movies over and over. The difference was Paul was more about enjoying the fact that you’re rewatching a loved movie than watching a movie you love again. During the movie she’d mouth the iconic lines with perfect timing, make jokes, and list off esoteric trivia. Admittedly irritating at times when you just want to watch the movie but with enough wit to keep you chuckling.
Super 8 was like dating someone who likes to watch the same movies over and over again whenever you visit. Yeah, they’re good movies and it’s entertaining at first, but the familiarity can be a bit boring. She likes to stay in her safe bubble of comfort and won’t venture to anything new. She also refuses to turn the lamp right next to the couch off so there’s always this annoying glare.
The music at the club is reverberating your very bones. The lasers and strobe lights would spell doom for an epileptic. The air is thick with sweat and alcohol. You see Avatar from across the ocean of people. She looks gorgeous. You slip through the throng and start dancing with her. Her moves are so generic, you can’t tell if she is actually dancing or if it’s parody. You yell over the din how much you like this song. She nods agreement. You can’t help but get pushed against her, the momentum of the masses overwhelms you both into a sublime ecstasy. It’s a fantastic night and you’re pleased to get her number. You wait a while before calling her, still high from the previous encounter. When you finally meet up again you try to really get to know her. Unfortunately, all there was to discover was revealed that first night. She is a pretty face but otherwise vacant.
The X-Men franchise was a relationship that started out great. She was heartfelt, concerned about political issues, and knew when it was time for action and when to be serious. I really thought we had something special. However, things turned sour. She began obsessing over her looks rather than substance. I suspect around the end it was more about financial dependency than love. Now she’s come back, trying to convince me she has changed. Or rather, trying to convince me she’s returned to her original values. She made a very solid effort revisiting all those previously mentioned aspects I love but with a new nostalgic aesthetic. I had a great time with her but whether we have a future together, only time will tell.
So let’s see. I’m a comic and film nerd. I preach environmentalism and then throw my cigarette butt on the ground. I talk about my travels abroad and spout philosophical quandaries while drinking cheap beer. Youth in Revolt made me come to terms with the fact that I am a hipster. I resisted for years. As you may know, there’s nothing a hipster hates more than being categorized. But she helped me come to terms. She accepted me for who I am ironically unironically, L’Étranger quotation tattoo and all. Now, excuse me while I go pirate the new Decemberists album.
I’m embarrassed to even say I went out with Resident Evil: Afterlife 3D. It was a favor to a friend who needed someone to tag along on a double date. I wasn’t expecting much and I feel like I received even less. I was bored with her and she obviously didn’t give a crap about being engaging in any way except occasionally flicking some food at my face in a kind of faux playfulness. She was only interested in a free meal and nothing more. I’m just glad my friend picked up the bill.
Kick-Ass is my lovely comic nerd. She eagerly joins me on my weekly outings to the comic shop to peruse through the colorful issues adorning the walls. We get in debates about who can win a drinking contest: Hulk or Wolverine. She has the patience of a saint as I flip through ancient back issues to find the missing monthlies I’ve sought for years like a media archeologist. Expanding each others’ geeky lexicon, we swap our favorite collected volumes with zeal only dwarfed by the anticipated discussion to follow after completing a series. The only real arguments we get in is over who is the bigger dork.
127 Hours was like a date with an adrenaline junkie. I knew the story before seeing the movie so watching the bulk of it was like a date involving a skydive. Your heart beats faster and faster as you prepare for the jump. You’re taught how the equipment works and told what to do in case of an emergency. You board the plane, take off, suddenly those doors are open, and then you’re expected to leap from thousands of feet in the air. Of course this is all part of the date so you can’t back out now matter how many knots your organs have decided to tie themselves in. Then it happens. It’s exactly as exhilarating and visceral as you expected, and then some. Your baser instincts take over. Panic and nausea choke you. Then, just as suddenly as the mental screaming began, there’s a sublime catharsis. It sweeps over you like a wave. The mixing of emotions is overwhelming. You want to go faster. You don’t want it to end. And then it does, albeit a bit anticlimactically. But all in all, it was pretty awesome.
The King’s Speech was a perfect lady. Her eloquence, her manner’s, her style, everything was polished just the way it should be. Unfortunately for me, I found her a bit too proper. I just couldn’t connect with her despite all her becoming qualities. The things she talked about just couldn’t hold my interest. Her concerns just seemed trivial to me in comparison to other issues. She wasn’t a classist, but maybe I am.