As I pulled up to the theater, realizing I would have to pay $5 to park, I went around the block to look for something free, and, when the option did not present itself, I went to Whole Foods, home, and made some dinner: I didn't show up for my date.
Anticipating a 6:30 pm start on Wednesday, December 13, I left my apartment to go on my first date using my unlimited movie pass: I would be getting in for free by all metrics, so it was no burden for me.
With my new glasses, Blondshell hat, olive green jacket, and a Bob's Burgers shirt, I was excited to be venturing out on a school night to see a movie: to go on a date.
That was until I realized the movie started at 6:10 pm… Frantically googling how long are previews, I was leaving my house with 5 minutes before the previews theoretically would end: I could make it.
Well, I could make it if I could park in one of America's most car centric cities.
I could park at the Chipotle where my car got broken into two years ago, or I could pay $5 to park: neither seemed like good options. The whole point of an unlimited pass was to not pay to see the movie.
As I made the turn to drive by the front of the theater, after doing a lap around the block, I was using time I did not have. The movie had started at this point. I did not want to walk in late, have to find my seat, and the try to piece together what the heck I missed: more importantly, I did not want to pay $5 to go on this date.
All dressed up, eventually I made the choice to forgo the date, drive to Whole Foods, and cook myself a nice dinner.
And I would do it again, but before you call me a petty piece of the patriarchy, let's unpack everything that led to me standing up my date.
Last Monday, December 11, I won free tickets to see Wonka through Do713.com, but, when I arrived to see the line out the door, I realized there was no way I was going to see get a seat. Even if my buddy and I did get in, we had no interest in sitting in a theater packed with a preposterous amount of kids for a movie we were not interested in seeing: look we're teachers and coaches, we spend all day with kids. A quick pivot, we decided to see Godzilla Minus One, the most recent addition to the Godzilla franchise I grew up on.
The movie was great, and the critique of high budget American cinema is warranted. Godzilla produced a compelling story with the backdrop of a gargantuan, radioactive dinosaur for far less than a CGI ridden flops of recent days. Like Parasite, American Cinema can learn a lot from its eastern counterparts.
“Once you overcome the 1-inch-tall barrier of subtitles, you will be introduced to so many more amazing films" Bong Joon Ho - Director of Parasite
As our lives have increasingly become time we are seeing an ad vs. not, between the movie previews we all get to the theater early to see, Regal made a pitch for their unlimited movie pass: I bought it before the movie even started.
Much to the life I have stepped into recently, I have opened myself to possibilities as they come: I talk about this in more detail here. When the opportunity to see unlimited movies every month came, I jumped at the prospect to encounter the art of others: to see the human experience retold, re presented, by someone else. Film has an uncanny ability to do this.
The movie pass also was an easy way to save some money on a date: if my ticket is free, I can swing whatever else may come. Reminder, I am a teacher.
But, as 6:30 pm rolled around on Wednesday, December 13, I decided to forgo my first date.
Truthfully, I did not want to go anyway.
Though I wanted to see The Boy and The Heron, as it had plenty of chatter surrounding its release, the last few weeks have pulled me from my books, my writing, and the manufactured silence I have grown to enjoy.
Like I said in my letter to my college self, you cannot compartmentalize your life.
Any attempt to compartmentalize, is to die: you will never fully live in any capacity. You will struggle to find harmony in the balance of your desires.
To live, however, is to thrive in the chaos of life as it changes frantically.
So, I stood up my date.
I did not want to see the movie.
The timing was less than ideal: 6:10 on a Wednesday.
Who goes on a date at 6:10 pm on a Wednesday?
6:10 pm on a Wednesday, I want to be reading and writing with Laufey in the background.
6:10 pm on a Wednesday, I want to be sitting in the silence as the amber hues of my hygge inspired apartment wash over me.
6:10 pm on a Wednesday, I want to feel the cool December air rush through my open door and windows.
At 6:10 pm on a Wednesday, I do not want to be sitting in a theater full of people I do not know.
So, I stood up my date.
As many of you think I am some pompous piece of the patriarch, the person I stood up was myself.
I was not going to see the movie with anyone but me, yet I had felt a deep tug all day to not go. I thought maybe this was my desire to be comfortable kicking in, but when I arrived late and had to pay for parking, I took it as a clear sign.
There will always be another movie, another party, another date, another concert, another anything: if it is a once in a lifetime opportunity, of course that changes the dynamic, but I think these are more scarce than we think.
However, if you show up to these events not fully charged, not fully yourself because you have gotten sucked into all that life has to offer, you cannot rewrite what could be an awful experience.
We all know what we need to feel recharged, what we need to feel fed in order to be our best self, yet we all feel the tug of FOMO. Even if alone, we feel the desire to create and live a life others might see and envy, or, to live an exciting life by some arbitrary standards. So, often we rush from event to event, dragging ourselves along because we feel it is what we should do.
We should want to hang out with friends.
We should want to go out and see a movie.
We should want to go to a concert or eat at a new restaurant,
What is should except a convoluted attempt to manipulate someone's emotions?
Had I gone on Wednesday, I would have been going out of some faux sense of obligation I had manufactured for myself.
The character arc close of year 27 is one I am living for, yet, in the absence of what became the foundation for a catharsis, I was emptying myself without replenishing. Three concerts, numerous blog posts, a vibrant energy from the classroom, as we inch closer to Christmas, I am drained. Much of what allowed me to sustain late nights writing was the cultivated silence, the peace, and the rest.
So, I stood myself up.
I went home, cooked dinner, and planned to use my movie pass to see The Holdovers the next day: go. see. this. film.
My new favorite Christmas movie, and I might say the movie of the year for me, The Holdovers has left me wondering would I do what the main character, a teacher, does. I am left pondering, what is the role of a teacher. I am left wondering, what do they not tell you before you become a teacher.
All this inspiration would not have come, had I decided to subjugate my intuition to my will, to not listen to my intuition and stayed home.
Sometimes the hardest person to listen to is ourselves.
To trust that, despite popular opinions or shared advice, we might know what we require more than what others lives of others might dictate.
So, in the end of it all, I am glad I stood up my date.
$5 for parking, no, thank you.
I will take free parking and a settled soul any day.
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