Subjective self-observation of the night: the thing about this weekend that felt like being an adult was not moving my stuff to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
derspatchel's prefatory to moving into our shared apartment in October (because I do not believe in romantic cohabitation as a prerequisite for adulthood: housing-wise, I felt a lot more adult moving to New Haven in 2003 to keep an apartment entirely on my fellowship from Yale), but going to see a twelve-hour movie marathon by myself. Especially an all-nighter, with people coming and going between different features, eating their concessions in their seats, the coffee and donuts that were provided after the second feature, the pizza at two in the morning after the fifth. I watch a lot of things by myself at home, but I think of movies in theaters as a communal activity, meaning I usually go with family or friends. This was an extended communal activity in which I was participating as an independent person. I talked with the people in the row in front of me. I talked with the people who sat down in the next two seats. I talked with the programmer (who said the Harvard Film Archive does sometimes take requests for events or series, so I made one for a British noir marathon and another for a regular series of Powell and Pressburger. In an ideal world, I would get to program these. I have no idea how to make that happen). I don't think I formed any permanent friendships, but that wasn't actually what I was there to do. And then I came home and I had not abandoned anyone, going out by myself. And tomorrow I have to move a whole set of boxes up the stairs for storage and wash clothes and sheets and towels and help clean out the refrigerator and all the other sorts of things a person does who lives in a house with other people and is a responsible human being, but I knew how that worked already.
derspatchel's prefatory to moving into our shared apartment in October (because I do not believe in romantic cohabitation as a prerequisite for adulthood: housing-wise, I felt a lot more adult moving to New Haven in 2003 to keep an apartment entirely on my fellowship from Yale), but going to see a twelve-hour movie marathon by myself. Especially an all-nighter, with people coming and going between different features, eating their concessions in their seats, the coffee and donuts that were provided after the second feature, the pizza at two in the morning after the fifth. I watch a lot of things by myself at home, but I think of movies in theaters as a communal activity, meaning I usually go with family or friends. This was an extended communal activity in which I was participating as an independent person. I talked with the people in the row in front of me. I talked with the people who sat down in the next two seats. I talked with the programmer (who said the Harvard Film Archive does sometimes take requests for events or series, so I made one for a British noir marathon and another for a regular series of Powell and Pressburger. In an ideal world, I would get to program these. I have no idea how to make that happen). I don't think I formed any permanent friendships, but that wasn't actually what I was there to do. And then I came home and I had not abandoned anyone, going out by myself. And tomorrow I have to move a whole set of boxes up the stairs for storage and wash clothes and sheets and towels and help clean out the refrigerator and all the other sorts of things a person does who lives in a house with other people and is a responsible human being, but I knew how that worked already.
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