conviction of pretension

The work weekend came to a close on a very good note. I had an awakening from my beaten down Saturday and was a ball of energy all today at work. As soon as I got to the apartment, though, my tired state crept right back into my life! I became cranky and even self-conscious and uncomfortable in my own skin. I felt unnatural and not anything like myself. I washed my hair and face to feel better and it worked a bit, but I still felt lacking. What I really needed was food and sleep, but the 7pm choice was food and I went to the Corner Bakery Cafe with Brittanie. I felt refreshed and alive again, for the time being. We went to Barnes and Noble afterwards to buy a movie to watch for the night. The Criterion Collection was on sale for 50% off and it became a rare opportunity to find an interesting movie that isn't readily accessible anywhere else. The both of us each bought a movie that piqued our interests at that moment. Mine happened to be one that I had wanted to see for a while since I took a intro to film class at Bergen Community College. It's the one pictured above, "Breathless". We watched it when we arrived home...and then Brittanie proceeded to start an argument with me and call me an elitist for enjoying the movie as much as I did! The funny thing was that I didn't even say or do anything that would merit this conviction of pretension (I said the movie was silly, actually, but that was it). I did find the way it was filmed very interesting and creative as it's jumpiness and redundancy was perplexing me in many ways (was it designed to be that way?), but I did not even say it out loud to her. Boy, that was quite an argument and I took it to heart pretty hard. What constitutes elitism, I wondered, because I was no way showy about what I watched or ever will be. I didn't hear about the movie from anyone else, just from another movie I liked with the same director that I watched in a class I took years ago. Is it elitist to write an entry about defending that you're not an elitist?

Emotionally, arguing about this and that made me feel even more unnatural and irked in my body. I felt, in that moment, I didn't know what being me was--I couldn't actually like or enjoy something without being perceived as acting or fitting into a mold.

Did I mention that I was also tired?! Yes, that other part of me that had yet to be fulfilled. Two in the morning and I had to still take a half hour drive home to only wake up at 7am! I was beat. I wanted to leave. I was livid and sad and tired! And mostly tired, I thought about this all more than I should have! I became so agitatedly over-analytical about something so pointless that I began to break down and cry for a minute in front of Brittanie and then I stormed home.

Overwhelmed in my own head, I really think the key ingredient to relieving my own self-conscious worries was getting some sleep. All of that of what happened doesn't matter! As much as I say I am different from a mold, I am more like it. And as much as I am told I am part of the mold, I am sequestered from it. There's no helping that. I like what I like because I like it. Being true to yourself with no concern of what is around you is the most genuine person you can be! And don't get into trivial arguments when you need the precious sleep!

-SFR