Black Mariah film festival at the Art Center

My 1903 Websters Encyclopedic Dictionary is open to page 176 and 177-- envenom to erosion. My two favorite words on this spread are erect and eremite (hermit).

I spent the weekend straddling the crevice between my eremitic self and my erect sense of curiousity about people. Friday night I went to the Black Mariah film festival at the Art Center. The theatre was so crowded we barely missed having to sit on the stairs. I accidently sat next to someone who knew me. I didn't know him, but he whispered in my ear that he knew who I was. We chatted briefly. Then the young woman in front of me grabbed my knee and spoke to me. Apparently I knew her, too.

My favorite short film involved Nietzsce in his underwear and a tutu. After the movie, I waited for a friend I was supposed to meet. She wasn't there, but a German architect named S. was. S. has been trying to be my friend, and for this I am grateful and flattered -- she has a strong jaw, straight dark hair, two children and a husband who travels. We met each other in painting class. I have a vision of her house, mod, clean, full of Ikea.

After talking to S. about people and art, my companion and I decided to go to the new German bar. I don't know what my companion had in mind when he heard "German bar" but what we found was downright Nazi. Pouty waitresses wore drindls, a man walked around with an accordian and liederhosen, and a man painted orange with self-tanner and white with hair bleach wore a see-through blouse. He appeared to have either pec implants or a shunt delivering him a steady stream of androgens.

The man who sat next to me at the film was chatting at a long table with a group of people, a group including the girl who sat in front of me at the film and grabbed my knee. This man was slightly cross-eyed, as was his date. The cross-eyed couple stared at each other with obvious affection. The girl who grabbed my knee also has a bit of a wandering eye. The evening felt thematic.

My companion and I almost ordered large steins of beer in celebration of all things German: the Nietsche, my new friend S., the liederhosen and steins, my unfortunate recent lapses into Romantic thinking. My companion and I decided we would be better off leaving. It should have been a Latin night. I should have tangoed.