N and I loved the first part of the movie and decided to see the sequel. I mean, I think we loved it. N says so, and I uncovered a post from back when I saw it and the post confirms.
The problem is, I discard information I deem unnecessary with extraordinary celerity. I have no memory of the movie, and couldn’t even identify its genre. Reading my own review of it brought no clarity.
The sequel is fine. It’s a healing fantasy for American masculinity. N says that the original movie was better, and I trust him. But it was such a great, peaceful time at the movie theater today, in the deep leather seats that spread out almost like beds. The first two weeks of class have worn me out, and not because there is any actual complexity at work. It’s my sixth year as department Chair, and at this point everything runs almost by itself. But these have been two weeks where people have sought me out much more than I need. I need barely any human contact outside of my family, so I wasn’t necessarily entertained by having people come to me one after another, crashing through a wall in the dark lounge where I went to spend a quiet half hour (true story), trying to wrestle away the office door that I was attempting to close for some privacy in my office, and asking in hushed voices “Is she in there?” every 15 minutes. And this isn’t even counting a strange child who got into my car and refused to leave for 15 minutes (true story). This is why the mountains of evildoers that Bob Odenkirk murders in creative, limb-tearing way in the movie felt quite soothing.
I so love daytime showings at American movie theaters. And American movies. I love pretty much everything and everybody now that I have several days ahead of me when I don’t have to be available to people. I don’t mean you, readers. You are all great and I love all your comments always. I mean people at work and strange children who breach the perimeter of my car.
Clarissa's Blog 
Love daytime showings. Have you ever been alone at one? I experienced it once, with Being John Malkovich. I felt so special, haha.
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I went to see the Dune for a daytime showing alone once. Not my genre at all but that made it all the more fun. I felt completely outside my own reality.
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Oh I meant being the only person in the theater. That happens so rarely.
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Ah!
We were there alone today at first. And then a very fancy elderly lady came in, which was unexpected for the type of movie.
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I discard information I deem unnecessary with extraordinary celerity.
I thought I was somehow peculiar for doing this but now I’m glad I’m not alone.
As a linguist I really can’t afford to store information that is of no use whatsoever after the event itself. I was trying to explain this to a colleague yesterday who instead seems to keep a prodigious storeroom of trivial information in her head.
It must be added that she’s a terrible gossip, so I suppose that remembering details like who was wearing what and when or who said what to whom on a certain occasion is basically life-and-death information if one is into retelling other people’s business, no matter how vapid it is.
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“discard information I deem unnecessary“
I wonder what that’s like. My brain takes another track: “You never know when some seemingly trivial factoid is the one you absolutely need!” it assures me, and attempts to not remember trivial junky factoids just causes them to burn into my memory all the more firmly…
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LOL, yes, that’s like all the “valuable” junk that many men store in their refugio in the basement or garage, and the terrible truth is that you will eventually require that exact thing…but of course, you need three of them ;-D
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