I had a marvellous weekend.

The Fiery One's mother and we went out for Ethiopian food, which just satisfies the hell out of me. I get to eat with my fingers and everything's got flavour coming out the wazoo (I don't know where Ethiopian food's wazoo is, because we don't discuss those things over supper, so I can't elaborate). Finger foods are the way to go, as far as I'm concerned. Cutlery is just an unnnecessary step in the mechanics of food delivery from plate to mouth.

Then we went out to see "Sin City" with Friday and P. In some ways, I thoroughly enjoyed the film. Aesthetically, it was fantastic. They managed to create a movie that closely mirrored the look of Frank Miller's graphic novel without turning it into a cartoon. The dialogue, which started out sounding so hokey it hurt, soon grew on me, and by the time Shellie was yelling out the window "you're a damn fool" in this overly breathy, elastic-lipped pout, I was hooked.

And then, as the film wore on, I grew a little bored, and then a little angry, with the portrayal of the female characters. At the end of the film, I realized that they hadn't treated the male characters too well, either. Now, I'm not so crazy about the film. The more victimized a woman was, the less clothing she wore. Women who were aggressively holding their own were only doing so in reaction to and within the confines of a system that men still controlled. Men responded to negative emotions through extreme violence or psychopathy. Men beat up other men out of anger or as a means to an end, but they beat up women for personal pleasure.

I'm not saying that movies should be forced to portray the sexes in whatever way is deemed politically correct in any given year. I suppose that it's not even this movie in particular that is aggravating me. What is aggravating me is that the choices we make when we create those kinds of characters and scenarios are so easy for us to create, and we often still have to work a little harder to choose other more honest characters and scenarios. It almost enrages me that it is so natural for us to shape our characters to such negative extremes based on the secondary sex characteristics we choose for them.

Occasionally, I fall into the feeling that things have changed more than they have, that the world is a place that has come so much closer to recognizing women as being equal beings in the human race, but then I am confronted with how easy it still is and how socially acceptable it still is to portray women as easy victims, as eye candy, as conniving, as beings that cannot stand up to the machinations of men. I know that the men were all portrayed as violent and angry and physically imposing, which is an unfair description of their sex, but at least they had the ability to control situations independently and take serious action to sculpt the shape of their own futures when the female characters could only do so within the confines that the world of men allowed them. It is the fact that these views of men and women are still so normalized within our culture that stings me right where I want to believe we are beyond this.

Oops. I promised myself at the beginning of this run-down of my weekend that I would not get all caught up in talking about "Sin City", but there I went and did it. Don't get me wrong. I still enjoyed the film despite myself. I am a woman of many contradictions.

After the movie, we all went out for drinks, and then Friday and I thought that we should continue our night at another pub closer to home. It was one of those nights where I know for damn sure that I should just head home and spend the rest of my evening quietly, but I ignored myself, as per usual, and proceeded to drink more beer than my conscious mind was willing to keep track of.

Saturday morning, I slowly opened one eye, and then I opened the other, and amazingly, my head was not the size and weight of a cinderblock. The Fiery One and I went shopping, which we hate doing normally, but thanks to a three-and-a-half year old gift certificate from our wedding, we bought a spring jacket for me and a coffee grinder for the two of us. I am the queen of vintage outwear, so I have not owned a brand new coat since high school. I feel all high class, or something.

The "Sin City" thing really threw my whole entry off, so in brief:
• Indian food was had by the Fiery One and I with Friday and P. It was delicious, I ate too much, and one of my tastebuds ballooned from the heat. I keep running it along my front teeth.
• There is a Sunday brunch thing that is becoming a standing date with Friday, P, Tahini Monkey, and Politiko. Again, it always involves excessive eating of the best hashbrowns ever. I am a hashbrowns lover to begin with, but these are the crack to my pot, or something.
• The rest of Sunday was long and lazy. Truthfully, I spent most of the afternoon surfing and drinking Costa Rican coffee fresh from our new grinder.

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"And Before That" by Michael Andrews

I know I've said this before, but listen to woxy.com. As far as internet radio goes, it's all I've been listening to lately.

The Force Of Return (And Some Finch)