So far this year, it seems like I've spent the bulk of my time with two people—one of whom I love with all my heart, and one whom I feel like I'm rapidly going from "like" to "barely tolerate" about. Full details are after the jump.
Roxanne and I are coming up on our 6-month anniversary. Yeah, yeah, only a measly half-year, but a damn good one and hopefully just the first of many—which we touched on a little this past weekend when she was over. As the sun set Saturday, we cuddled and mused about our future wedding, and we came to an agreement. It won't happen until we're both done with school (one less thing to freak out about), there'll be about a hundred guests max, it'll be in Monterey in late spring or early summer, and then we take off for a nice long honeymoon in Italy.
It's kinda funny. A year or two ago, talking with my partner about getting married would've freaked me the hell out—think Edvard Munch's "The Scream." Now I'm not only comfortable with it, I'm offering ideas and figuring out how many people Roxanne and I would be putting on our respective sides. And I know this is gonna sound cliché as all hell, but every time I'm with her, I become more and more convinced that she's the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with. You know how I once wrote that some people are best in small doses? She's not one of those people.
Big Dave, on the other hand, is. Lately we're only hanging out together for the podcast, whether it's reviewing movies or recording the show, and his behavior has me wishing it was even less than that. He has repeatedly expressed his disdain for me trying to finish college, saying it's a waste of my time and talents and that I should just find a job. (Mind you, this is coming from a guy who refused to go further than his high school diploma, saying that just getting that "nearly killed [him].") He has this annoying habit of referring to the Star Wars franchise—his raison d'etre—as "The Wars," and every time he does so, I have to fight the urge to punch him in the throat to shut him up. (To say that he's obsessed is an understatement—the man covers his bedroom walls in SW memorabilia, collects autographs from actors and animators at fan conventions, and compares other movies to the franchise as though nobody made movies before George Lucas. I would bet him a hundred bucks that he can't go a day without making a Star Wars reference, but I'd feel guilty taking his money 10 minutes in.) Plus, he displays an amazing level of pretentiousness, which I shall attempt to demonstrate.
Example 1: After recording one recent show, we got to talking about director Zack Snyder and his upcoming movie Sucker Punch, which I want to review. I said that we should give it the benefit of the doubt and let it stand or fall on its own merits rather than just those of its occasionally controversial creator—which, I added, is a movie critic's job. Dave answers with a cavalier "No it's not," then refuses to provide a more sophisticated counterargument. Cue stunned expression from me.
Example 2: A few weeks ago, we exchanged Facebook posts over the news that Anne Hathaway and Tom Hardy were cast in the next Batman movie, which will once again be directed by Christopher Nolan. Dave comments that Nolan was able to make Leo DiCaprio—"the most wooden actor EVER"—have more life in Inception. Come to think of it, this example is more of idiocy than pretentiousness. Despite his claims, Dave has obviously never seen Catch Me If You Can or What's Eating Gilbert Grape or even Titanic, movies in which Leo shows off a lot of charm and personality and life, while simultaneously forgetting Hayden Christensen's woeful turn as Mannequin Skywalker in the prequels. (And yeah, I know that'll tweak him if he ever reads this—that's exactly why I wrote it.)
So yeah, my tolerance for the guy is getting dangerously low. Now I need to figure out what to do about that—whether I should fix it or just walk away.
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