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Mar. 14th, 2004 01:13 amSecond day of the anti-depressant, still feverish and mildly awake, not jumpy or anything, I suspect if I lay down, I will sleep eventually, but I can do more before then.
Today, I finally saw ROTK. I let my inner squeeing fangirl loose with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
browngirl and had a good time. If she didn't have things to do back at the house, I would have invited her to have lunch with me. The offer is open, since I still have yet to give you the CD I got you.
After lunch, I went to Virgin and browsed. Unfortunately, I browsed too long, missing the start of a poetry reading at the Goethe Institut, with the theme of satirical verse from the Twenties. I decided to try anyway, and walked from Newbury via Hereford to Beacon. Then I walked down Beacon, realizing that it was closer to the Back Bay station than Copley.
As it turned out, I came in just in time for intermission. They did some readings of morbid poetry, which was an account of a man being poisoned by his wife and her female lover and a sing-along of "Mack the Knife." The political poetry came from a German Jewish pacifist who committed suicide in 1934. His poem was about how parents prepare their sons to go to war. "He mentions trenches, if it was written today, he'd mention Hummers."
I regret missing the first half, and I regret not knowing German (I only know a few words), but I have the photocopy of some of poems.
The weird thing was here were these older people, polite and nice and drinking champagne, and around them was the decorations of Weimer-era decadence: fishnet-stockings on mannequin legs in the fireplace; silver and fuschia fabrics draped on the walls; disco balls and candles; and big signs saying 'Sex,' 'Drugs', and 'Decadence.' They quietly chatted sometimes in German, but maybe it is a bit much to expect mixed couples dancing and tossing the champagne glasses into the fireplace. One moment that amused was two members of this men's acappella group dancing with each other. I dislike the group, they didn't do any songs from the twenties, and none of the songs were racy or even mildly startling, but I like that.
More importantly, I had a good time and did something different. I walked back to the T station, intending to catch a midnight showing of Beetlejuice. However, I realized I don't know where to catch the Night Owl, so I went home. I met the guy I often see waiting for the morning bus. His name is Bill, he is an auto mechanic and he knows the people two houses down from me.
Today, I finally saw ROTK. I let my inner squeeing fangirl loose with
browngirl and had a good time. If she didn't have things to do back at the house, I would have invited her to have lunch with me. The offer is open, since I still have yet to give you the CD I got you.After lunch, I went to Virgin and browsed. Unfortunately, I browsed too long, missing the start of a poetry reading at the Goethe Institut, with the theme of satirical verse from the Twenties. I decided to try anyway, and walked from Newbury via Hereford to Beacon. Then I walked down Beacon, realizing that it was closer to the Back Bay station than Copley.
As it turned out, I came in just in time for intermission. They did some readings of morbid poetry, which was an account of a man being poisoned by his wife and her female lover and a sing-along of "Mack the Knife." The political poetry came from a German Jewish pacifist who committed suicide in 1934. His poem was about how parents prepare their sons to go to war. "He mentions trenches, if it was written today, he'd mention Hummers."
I regret missing the first half, and I regret not knowing German (I only know a few words), but I have the photocopy of some of poems.
The weird thing was here were these older people, polite and nice and drinking champagne, and around them was the decorations of Weimer-era decadence: fishnet-stockings on mannequin legs in the fireplace; silver and fuschia fabrics draped on the walls; disco balls and candles; and big signs saying 'Sex,' 'Drugs', and 'Decadence.' They quietly chatted sometimes in German, but maybe it is a bit much to expect mixed couples dancing and tossing the champagne glasses into the fireplace. One moment that amused was two members of this men's acappella group dancing with each other. I dislike the group, they didn't do any songs from the twenties, and none of the songs were racy or even mildly startling, but I like that.
More importantly, I had a good time and did something different. I walked back to the T station, intending to catch a midnight showing of Beetlejuice. However, I realized I don't know where to catch the Night Owl, so I went home. I met the guy I often see waiting for the morning bus. His name is Bill, he is an auto mechanic and he knows the people two houses down from me.
