11:40 a.m. and I'm back in bed. Yeah. I'm sick again. I felt it when I woke up on New Years Eve, that hint of a sore throat, stuffy, head in the gray, hazy clouds sort of feeling. I can feel my throat closing as I type. Ugh, what a way to end one year and ring in the new.
I've never been one for celebrating a new year. Every year I turn down at least two invites, this year was no different. It's a combination of things. One, and somewhat new to the list, I have a kid. I never see her as a burden, it's just hard to get out. Two, I just don't function well at large parties, I see myself as a bit of a social retard. Three, I have developed a heightened sense of dramatic paranoia when it comes to traveling on New Years. Visions of flaming vehicular wreckage, severed body parts strewn along a darkened highway and the unbearable sound of agonizing screams, keep me safe at home. I'm accepting and content with spending my holiday with the other half and a bowl of popcorn.
This year, was quite possibly the best New Year I've had in some time. My parents were gone, I made dinner for my family, ate my popcorn and watched a really great movie. Earlier in the day I was jokingly asked, 'What movies do you like?" I like all kinds of movies. I don't consider myself to be a movie snob or expert, I like what I like. Bubbleboy, is a fantastic film. Taxi Driver, Repo Man, The Breakfast Club, Pink Flamingos, Tiny Toons: How I Spent My Summer Vacation... Every movie has it's place.
Any movie with a satisfying sex scene. I'm fascinated with sex, yet porn doesn't quite work for me. The classics, yes. Deep Throat, The Devil in Miss Jones, Behind the Green Door, The Opening of Misty Beethoven. In general however, I like my movies to be plot driven. So this great movie I watched was Romance by French filmmaker Catherine Breillat. I saw her film A Real Young Girl severeal years ago and since, have read much about her work. God love Netflix, they have a few of her movies available. Breillat's films are followed by much controversy due to her fixation on female sexuality. A woman after my own heart.
A basic summary of Romance: A young teacher, Marie, is sexually shut off by her model boyfriend. Her need for sexual gratification forces her into harmful and unconventional situations which lead her to an unexpected new lover. Rape, glory-holes, bondage and an extremely intrusive gynecological examination are a portion of what led to Romance's controversy. However, it's the use of unsimulated sex that blurs the line separating art from porn. (Not to mention the well proportioned Italian pornstar cast as one of Marie's lovers.)
Personally, I admire directors and actors who are willing to put their reputations of the line for the sake of their art. Divine broke all the rules of sexuality for many John Waters films, Heath and Jake, well, you know. John Cameron Mitchell wasn't deterred when he presented the beautifully filmed "real sex" in Shortbus. Yeah, I'll mention The Brown Bunny, but ugh, Vincent Gallo getting a blowjob from Chloe Sevigny, kinda made me nauseous to be perfectly honest. As overindulgent as Americans are, why aren't we more comfortable with sexuality? Leave it to the Europeans to corner that film market.
It bothers me that sex is so taboo. Most everyone does it. I, in fact, did it a couple of times on New Years and into the 1st. It's a natural and extremely satisfying part of everyday life, so why not put it out there? Ah well, I guess I'll just keep biting my lower lip and enjoying it all in private.
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