Sunday, Jul. 07, 2002 / 5:15 p.m.

~On Comfort, and Movies, and Feasts Not to Be Had~

I'm still wearing my comfy Land's End nightshirt. I put it on Friday night after my shower and I've not taken it off since. I returned to the Land's End web site, to buy another, in white, but they are sold out of the Mediums. I'll have to shower sooner or later. And then I'll take it off, put something else on. I don't want to though.

Yesterday I washed dishes. This is a big deal for me, doesn't happen often. Though my garbage disposal is jammed and I can't clear the clog, whatever clog it is, and the water drains slowly, I washed and washed, and now there's a sink there, not just a pile of bowls, utensils, plates, mugs. It's rather nice, inspiring even. Makes me want to buy groceries, fresh food, herbs, makes me want to make a big bowl of gazpacho, or rice salad, or potato salad, or tabouli, cold food. I want large amounts of cold food to eat.

With none of that on hand, I popped popcorn, on the stove, ate a huge bowl of it, with melted butter and seasonings. I began to watch "Juliet of the Spirits" before I realized I really don't like Fellini movies, never have. I had to turn it off, and switched channels to find more movies. I watched "Cribs" on MTV too, realized Norman Cook is NOT gay, and I'm sorry for assuming he is. He has a beautiful wife and child, lives in a very messy home on Brighton Beach. He collects Smiley Faces. I only wondered, Who dusts all that crap??

It was Sidney Poitier night on Turner Classic Movies, so I watched parts of "Edge of the City", then "The Defiant Ones"......"Loooooonnnnng gone!", what a great film. I've seen it so many times, but it's still good. And each time I see it I think what hell it must've been for Tony Curtis and Sidney Poitier to make it. Always wet or dirty, or both, chained together. Again, what a great film.

"Paris Blues" was on after, and I was seeing a pattern.... Sidney Poitier and John Cassavetes, Sidney Poitier and Tony Curtis, Sidney Poitier and Paul Newman, all in black and white, all between 1958 and 1961, if I have that right, he was always paired with a well known white actor. And "Paris Blues" was almost misogynistic in its stereotypical depiction of women wanting to change their men, wanting them to "settle down", give up the lives they love. Horrible. Let them stay in Paris making music, living, LIVING, it's what they love. Why did Joanne Woodward and Diahann Carroll (sorry for the misspellings, but too lazy today to look them up) not move to Paris, instead of wanting their men to move back to the States? Hell, if I met Paul Newman in 1961 (well, that's the year I was born, but you know, as I am now, or a little younger), in Paris, on vacation, and fell in love with him??? I'd move THERE to be with him.

Fucked up, that's what it was.

So this is my weekend.

Yahoo! says it's cooler outside today than yesterday, and I'm sure I should go out and buy food, new clothes to wear to work, or at the least go see a movie. But I never want to leave. I have all I need here, but the food. It's cool, it's nice. I vacuumed, every room.

I slept late, again. I dreamed I was in Paradise. I looked out my window and saw the new Moon, just a sliver waxing, and as I looked at it it grew, the Sun overtook the sky, lit it up and turned the Moon into the Sun, and it was bright, the air clean and clear, the sky turned from black to blue, and there were green hills all around, snow capped mountain peaks in the distance. I remarked, "This is Paradise", but to whom? I think it was my brother. Why? No clue.

I watched local people walk along footpaths on the very edge of cliffs, paths only wide enough for feet, and some had dogs with them. I said I was going to try one today. I too was going to walk along the cliffs, absorb the beauty of this Paradise. I was so lucky to live there. But as I got out and was watching Jeeps coming down a steep and rocky hill, the sky was turning white, and I wondered where the clouds came from.

In another dream I saw my ex-boyfriend. I was aware that I was going to be seeing him, he would be entering the scene, the room, whatever it was, wherever we were, I was, and I wondered what he would look like. He still had long hair and a mustache. And he was wearing a bright yellow tshirt. I was not happy to see him, and he ignored me.

I got up, not in a dream, but my waking life, turned on the TV as I drank my coffee, and "Babette's Feast" was on the Sundance Channel, so I had to watch. I've seen it many times, as "The Defiant Ones", but certain movies I will watch again and again. I loved watching those pious people sit around that table, holding firm in their desire, their conviction not to talk about the food they were eating, yet after a time their eyes lit up, their cheeks became rosy with the wine, and they followed the General's lead, upturning their soup bowls to drink the turtle broth, or spooning the sauce from the quails in puff pastry (en sarcophage).

I remember when "Babette's Feast" was first released here, the Ritz Carlton duplicated the menu, possibly with "mock turtle", as it is illegal in this country to kill and cook sea turtles, yes?, but they had all the wines, all the courses, even the cheese and fruit, the Blini with caviar and creme fraiche. Oh, it sounded so good, but I didn't go. I didn't think I'd like quail.......

Still, I love to watch that movie, even the slow beginning, the two sisters wooed, but never leaving their Minister father's side. And Babette, serving them for 14 years before she wins the lottery and spends it all on that one feast, to honor the dead father. Wow. Fourteen years. Women, alone. Together. Living in that house, eating the salted cod with bread and ale. Yikes!

Now, what? I'm hungry. But it won't be Blini for me, no quail here, not even cheese and fruit.

Remember WebVan? I ordered from them once, all my groceries, produce, everything, and they brought it to me the next day. The man came into my kitchen, unpacked it all for me, everything wrapped in plastic, little tags with my name on them. Everything fresh and wonderful. No tipping, not allowed. It was amazing. Too amazing. They went out of business.

Now I'd have to go out in my Easy Bake Car, sweat and bitch and moan, just to get food. Maybe I'll order a pizza?

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