I’d like to preface this piece by saying that a lot of people do a lot of weird things, and if the epitome of my weirdness is going to the movies by myself—and if the subscript to that specific weirdness is going alone to see an animated movie as a 25-year-old—then I’d say it’s a perfectly normal activity to do.
There’s boredom and then there’s the level of boredom someone reaches when they begin to swipe through their Venmo feed. Certainly it’s not a level of desperation that would lead them to Facebook, the wasteland reserved for everyone’s aunts and uncles and parents to entertain themselves with.
It feels like I should’ve seen this a long time ago. I can imagine a thirteen-year-old me stuck at home during winter break with nothing to do other than glue my eyes to a television screen and my Dad—in his ever obsession with war movies and any type of military-related media—would turn on First Blood so we could watch Sly Stallone use his Green Beret skills to pick off hapless, spiteful, and overwhelmed deputies one by one in the Washington wilderness.
Watching The Bachelorette has cleared up a couple things for me: there may be no good people left in this world, and epicaricacy is America’s national pastime. I’m sure plenty are sounding out epicaricacy at this very moment as they try to connect the dots between this cumbersome word and a show where women date a litany of men in their search for love.
When wildfires surge in the mountains across the state you feel guilty because you lather your dying yard with water hoping the green hue will return. Your neighbors don’t wave to you because of this. The neighbors search through the recycling bins of every house in the neighborhood. They wear sandals made out of recycled rubber and pineapple leaf fibers.
There Is A Car For Sale. For a month a Nissan Rogue has been parked in my Mom’s driveway. It’s a white SUV covered in a layer of dirt. The sun has begun to bleach the paint and spots of rust are growing along the brake pads. Technically, it’s only been in two accidents but…
Milestones I’m starting to celebrate milestones I’ve never thought of before and have no way of tracking, ones that happen and are forgotten about like some random Tuesday in March. Last week I’m certain that I ran over my one thousandth pothole on the way home from work and two days ago I was asked if…
Mostly everyone is a horrible person in some way or another. It doesn’t really matter in the minutes leading up to midnight on New Year’s Eve whether one recognizes this or not, and especially when they manage to wake up sometime during the afternoon the next day, vowing to not drink for a month or hold themselves to some sort of challenge that will ultimately lead to their demise.
Netflix’s live adaptation of the beloved anime Cowboy Bebop needs to stay true to the original, but doing so would refuse to adhere to the present times.
With glazed eyes, frozen and locked on to the well-oiled abs of the men on the TV, Mom announced there were frozen slabs of macaroni in the freezer. That’s dinner.
