It turned out to be less work last night than I expected.
She informed me that she would never ask a man to take out her trash and no amount of my scrubbing would live up to her levels of bathtub cleanliness standards. She must have surmised, correctly, that my soft hands rarely touch the Soft Scrub (shower spray, baby, yeah!).
I actually needed to remind her about the burnt out light bulb. This turned out to be a test of my Manly-Man appearance as she had a 100 foot vaulted ceiling and a 3 foot high step ladder. As I reached up to remove the antique glass shade hanging there, I teetered slightly: "oh shit." I thought. "Real men don't eat quiche, and they don't fall off tiny, 3 foot high step ladders in front of a lady." Luckily, I caught myself, and continued to stretch, twist and practically pull the fucker off. I could not figure out how to remove the glass. I began to sweat in the sauna-temperatured apartment, would I have to unscrew the plate and re-wire the whole fucker?!?!
And then the bottom screw twisted, and all was fine. I still had my Bob Villa + James Dean image intact (or maybe the beer kicked in a little).
I ended up happily cleaning out her fridge (of Samuel Adams Hesterfrozenhaffoerwhat). We ate some tasty Villa May pizza (half cheese, half mushrooms [of non-magical variety]). After the Wilco movie, I had a piece of the driest, plaster-of-Paris, spackling infested cheese cake in my life. But it didn't stop me from finishing the entire piece which will rest in me innards for the next five years.
So, the movie (I Am Trying To Break Your Heart) not only entertained, but informed me as well. I liked the whole black and white filming. It adds drama and a crispness to events/pictures that I enjoy. I find it interesting how a black/white photo or film seems to hold more credibility or Truth than it would even if the exact thing were in color. Dorothy in the Real world, black/white. In the Fantasy world, color. (random thought).
I found the documentary informing because I really haven't ever listened to Wilco or Uncle Tupelo before last night, except for maybe on song near the end (and frick if I could tell you the name, now). They seemed a little more mellow and folksy than I usually am in the mood for, but I did almost pick up Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, but for all the wrong reasons (no, I'll not explain, please and thank you). As I did like "Heavy Metal Drummer" and whatever song they played next in the film.
In addition, it's always fun to see films and recognize/have been to the locations in it.
Some of the scenes were flashbacks to my University years and a couple of years ago when I lived with members of various bands. The arguments of album titles, flow, sound-boards, to bring the guitar up more or the bass, influences, set-list orders, and digital vs. Analog for example. *sigh* always the Roadie, never the Frontman.
The film also got me thinking, like all movies/books/tunes I like, about where I am now. Where I wanted to be now in the past. Where I want to be in the Future. The fucking fact that I now think in terms of having a Future. That I am trying to get back on the Path of my writing. Yeah, this blog is a measly little baby step, but I need to acknowledge that idea of this baby step is miles and miles further than I had been moving in the past 2, 3, 8 years.
Oops, pardon me...In summary: I had a good time, with good company, watching a good DVD; and, I hope to be allowed over again. If I forgot to say "thank you," please forgive me Arsh, and thanks for a nice night...and no, I didn't walk over to Boomer's for a night-cap, smarty-pants.
Alright, cookout tomorrow night after work. I'll keep (all 6 of) you posted! Happy Memorial Day, yo!