What an exhausting evening! Black Hawk Down was really intense, and In the Bedroom may have been the most draining experience of watching a film that I've had in quite some time. Really amazing, both in their own way. I didn't enjoy Bridget Jones quite so much - not that it wasn't a good movie, but more likely because I'm just not in a chick-flick sorta mood.
I didn't realize it until I overslept a couple of mornings (it's easy to do when you don't have a damn temp job and you don't have anywhere to be!) that my bedroom is a total cave. It's so dark in there, that you can sleep, like, forever. Toni Schlemmer was teasing me not long ago about being depressed and huddled under my bed, and while I feel as though I've been skirting depression, I don't think that I've been in the thick of it just yet. But if you take away the actual depression part, I have found myself curled up in a ball in a bed in a really dark room at 10 a.m., which is a little unsettling to me. Just something to think about.
I can't say exactly why, but I've been thinking for some reason of The Greater Pittsburgh Renaissance Festival lately... and particularly about the African Dance Ensemble that would occasionally perform there. I wonder if they came back this past year, which was my first in four of not doing it.
I saw a guy on the street the other day who reminded me of one of the drummers for the Ensemble, which (me being me) got me to thinking about the guy I fancied who danced with them. I think his name was Ashante, though I'm not sure. It's not like I ever had the nerve to actually approach him.
And while I can see thinking about the festival 'cuz that guy had crossed my mind, I don't know why the Festival should keep coming back to mind. Very odd. I mean, I enjoyed the experience on the whole, but I didn't love it, so why should it keep popping into my head?
There's gotta be a reason, but I'll be damned if I can think of it.
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