Sway

Finally watched Her, the 2013 film which examines a relationship between a human and an OS ("not just an Operating System, a Consciousness!")

I liked that it didn't question whether or not A.I. could have feelings. That has been long debated, since the dawn of the genre sci-fi. I liked that it shed light on what constitutes love, the physical vs. the intellectual and emotional. When is love real?

I liked the rawness of loneliness, all-encompassing, unapologetic. A way of life.

I liked that labels didn't seem important, that characters weren't boxed in. The profundity of our ever-inquisitive minds and how we find comfort in connecting, how nothing is in simple terms: love, happiness, our very existence.

I stepped away feeling lonelier and sadder than ever. And I loved it.

I'd spent days battling bronchitis with a side of sinus infection. I'd been heavily medicated just to be able to sleep through (most of) the night. Been feeling zombie-esque in every way, flat-lining and rotten inside. Depression had been hitting hard: the usual feeling of pointlessness. The weekend came and went and I felt I had done absolutely nothing. I didn't even take any remedies for the depression. I just let it seethe.

Having seen this film validated the absurdity of life for me. All these notions that life has to be certain way. Bullshit. I know nothing about nothing.

When one feels shitty somehow sex will surface as a life-affirming tool. And it worked very well this evening.

I realized that I didn't even feel confident in sex anymore. I had lost the art of seduction. I felt clumsy, out of practice, uncertain about every move. Am I hurting him? Does this even feel comfortable, let alone erotic?

But it was hot and all out, nothing held back. And it was the most freeing in a long time.

It is good to accept I know nothing about nothing. Thinking I had some aspects of life figured out was but an illusion.

To think that we take something as natural as breathing for granted... it has been humbling.

Beautiful music in Her, too. The kind that is ethereal and transporting. Transforming, even.

Not much has happened. Yet so much has happened. Life has changed.

I'd say the paradigm has shifted but... What paradigm?

Five stars.

Glimmer

RJ subscribes to the New York Times Sunday paper. He has been for years. I don't read the paper. The only section I ask him to save for me is Styles.

I enjoy reading the occasional interview (if it's someone I care about), opinions on women's issues (a 60-yo author finds power in allowing herself to ditch the coloring bottle and go gray; why Victoria's Secret's pinup supermodel approach is no longer relevant with today's shifting cultural norms...), the advice column (the humor and candor), Modern Love (often clever and insightful), and, last but not least, wedding announcements. They are not just announcements, but love stories with anecdotes.

I love weddings. Even in my darkest of jaded days, when I deemed myself unlucky in romance, seeing two people in love and on a journey together moved me to tears. And I was never too bitter to be celebratory.

Even since I have been gainfully employed at my current job, I've let my reading slide. Today, on Labor Day, the first Monday in September, I am just catching up on last October and November. Simply ridiculous.

Earlier today, as I sat down to read in an attempt to make a small headway in that exponentially ever-growing pile, I questioned, "Do I need to read these old wedding announcements? Or should I just recycle?"

But I did read them. And every detail delighted me (the grooms wore Christian Louboutin! She learned to say her vows in Polish so her to-be-in-laws could understand...) rimmed my eyes with tears as well as made me chuckle. Sometimes simultaneously. (Yes, I did chuckle out loud with the Louboutin bit when it was reported that they had changed shoes, again, for that evening.)

I did not regret reading the segment. It was not a silly, sappy waste of time. On the contrary, unbeknownst to me, my soul needed it.