So, the dog is gone.
And truth be told... it's easier now, that it's over and done with. As I had asked her to do, Abby took all remaining vestiges-- dog bed, toys, that sort of thing. So I won't be reminded.
What's past is past. I'm better now than I was 24 hours ago-- believe you me.
To help with the... erm... "finality," I went out with Darren last night. After he'd nominated Memoirs of a Geisha, Transamerica and "the Sarah Jessica Parker movie," and after I'd promptly gone into convulsions as a result, I suggested we see King Kong.
Thankfully, his friend Dan voted for King Kong as well. Thank goodness.
Now, I wasn't really all that into seeing King Kong before last night... but compared with the other movies Darren had put forward, it began to resemble a Bill Murray film festival. Tasty, stupid and fun.
So. I went into the city (yes, after saying my goodbyes) and met up with the guys at 6pm or so... but only after a stop through Kramer's and a white chocolate mochawhatsit at Starbucks.
I'd already moved on by now, and was pretty content. Bookstores and chocolatey beverages have that effect on me.
We took a cab to the Uptown, where I'd never been before. It was a gorgeous, cavernous old-time theatre... just like you see in the movies! We sat upstairs, in the balcony (good thing we were able to get seats ahead of time... the place was pretty packed). The theater's curved screen was a neat touch, as were the curtains than opened and closed before the movie.
I don't know that I was necessarily around for them... but I miss the old days.
King Kong. A review, in three acts.
Act I: Jack Black is a God. Just... not in this particular movie. Horribly miscast to the point of being distracting. Thankfully, we had an hour's worth of people getting on a ship to keep our attention. And Adrien Brody's enormous schnozz. C+
Act II: Peter Jackson is a God. He saw Jurassic Park, and he made the Lord of the Rings movies, and he said to himself, "how can I top both of those, but good?" Some of the best mindless popcorn sequences ever. The fight with the three T-Rexes was borderline astonishing. A
Act III: Naomi Watts sure is purty. But at this point, my knees had fallen asleep, and my bladder was a-talkin' to me. Three hours is a long time for a football game, let alone a cramped movie theater. At this point I was starting to drift a bit... but that ape... tons o' fun, whenever he's onscreen. B+
So. We get out of the theater, and Darren (who'd simply been grumbling throughout the movie) immediately complains of it being the worst acted movie he's ever seen, so unrealistic, that dialogue about "'twas beauty that killed the beast" being so stupid, possibly the worst movie ever, how do people enjoy this sort of thing...
Thankfully, Dan and I agreed on it being a great dumb movie, if a half-hour too long.
After the movie, we grabbed a bit of Thai (food, you pervs). At which point Dan and I started talking about music. Turns out he's got some great taste, especially towards the Y'allternative end of the spectrum-- Uncle Tupelo, Whiskeytown, Wilco, etc.
Meanwhile, poor Darren tried to defend Barbara Streisand as being this, that and the other. I said nothing, but Dan absolutely lambasted Darren's taste, across the board.
Let me say something, here. I love Darren. And I would love Darren even if we weren't family. But as last night showed... we have very different tastes.
And I'm glad he has Dan to tell him that his is a bit... off. So that I don't have to.
God, what an elitist shit I am.
Anyway, I crashed at his place after taking Sasha for a walk around the block. Darren seemed pretty disappointed that I didn't want to go out afterwards (to the same bars as last time)... but I was pretty tired, at this point... I think it was past midnight.
I told him I'd take a raincheck, and wound up crashing at his place, instead.
Off to watch some football today (and share some of the gifts that Santa gave me personally) with the Hunts. Should be a lot of fun, especially since it seems like ages since I've seen them!
Tomorrow night: Menorah Watch 2005. Oh, you better believe it: it's on, this year.