last night, ralph and i went to see the ring two in times square. we'd both seen the first one so we kind of knew what to expect: the well, the dead girl in the well, the water in the well that shows up before she does. i needed a distraction. i had been throwing things away like crazy -- everything from old papers to ugly furniture -- and it was a strangely emotional process, one that left me feeling maudlin and a little high strung. i met up with ralph in a turkish bar in hell's kitchen and after some heady talk and polish honey wine (he said it was fantastic), we sauntered over to loew's.
the other day i noticed that my new regimen has me eating like a french white girl. that means i don't nosh anymore at the movies, i don't snack and i've given up junk and processed foods. it's just three small squares everyday, a workout here and there and a lot of running around. (no wonder i'm losing weight!)
as we're sitting there waiting for the movie to start, i'm cringing as i'm watching all of these oversized people waddle in with buckets of popcorn and hot cheese on tortilla chips and what not. i could feel my arteries tightening at the thought of consuming all of that grease within a two hour time frame. the scary movie that most people live through without realizing it is that most diseases are lifestyle related. with excercise and good nutrition, something as pervasive as heart disease wouldn't have to be an inevitability. i turned around and looked over the crowd in one sweeping glance. how many of these people were going to have a heart attack before the age of 40?
by the time previews began, there was a low murmur in the theater. it sounded like a very quiet study hall. that irresistable smell of popcorn was everywhere -- so hard to resist. i love popcorn. it's my favorite. but these days, i treat it like a bouquet of flowers that i can't eat. i just enjoy the fragrance.
and whoever i'm with has to talk to me. they just have to.
everyone started right in with the running commentary almost as soon as the first scene was underway. i remember a fat black girl a few rows away from us with her own bucket and quart sized fountain beverage who was talking to the screen like she was at home in her living room. it was so much fun. we all pretty much laughed our way through the whole thing. somewhere in the middle of it, my phone wouldn't stop vibrating. it was my mother. all i could think was, who died? that's what always runs through my head when i get a phone call from home after a certain hour. but i didn't answer it. it was probably nothing, i reasoned. just her checking in because she hadn't heard from me in awhile.
the next morning, my mother called me because she figured i hadn't checked my messages. my cousin had a heart attack the day before and was in a hospital somewhere in queens. my nice cousin, who called me his favorite. the one with a son and baby-mama-drama. my good guy cousin, the mechanic. the one that worked 50 hours a week. the one that ate mostly junk food and that hardly ever cooked for himself, by his own admission. i was grateful that he was alive but i knew that he was scared. his mother died of a heart attack more than a year or so ago.
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