We are staying in a 4 star hotel called "The Hotel Oxford". We arrived yesterday during a heavy rainfall which was uncharacteristic for the week, considering it was 18 C degrees and sunny the day before. We were happy for the cozy room with its hardwood floors and its firm yet comfortable bed. Like most European hotels we've frequented on this trip, the room itself is relatively small, its bathroom even smaller.
We had been spoiled in Florence at the J & J Historic House: a spacious room that stretched out into a space similar to the living room in my last apartment but, y'know... with a bed in it. The room was warm, low lit, and a general joy to stay in. The service was staffed with what seemed to be one house boy and a few front desk men and very little else. Lupe and I, weary of travel and seeing things, gave our last two days there over to the contentment of sitting on the bed and watching movies on the one English speaking movie channel in existence. It was grand.
Lupe and I have rediscovered our common love of movies in the last few days. While she was in school, we never really had the time nor inclination to go and see movies at the theater let alone the time allotted for us to watch movies in the comfort of our own home. With her overly hectic schedule, taking two hours to slow her pace down enough to sit through even the shortest of films was just not happening. We watched a lot of episodic television because a) it was episodic and b) it was at least something. During these last three years I had somehow mistaken her inability to watch movies as an unwillingness to do so. As a film kinda guy, I actually thought this sucked quite a lot. But, as it so turns out, she never stopped wanting to watch movies with me, she just couldn't. There are many things she is rediscovering for herself now that the ominous oppression of education is finally at an end.
So we wanted to watch movies again. We decided that since we have so long a stay in Rome (10 days!), we would spend the first two continuing our habit of trying to reestablish a sense of normalcy in our lives by foregoing the usual touristy sightseeing and stay up late watching movies. The special offer here at the Hotel Oxford is 12 euro for 24 unlimited access to all the movies, internet, and programs you can muster, mister. Since single movies cost 7 euro a piece, we figured, "Here's a chance to make some of our money back, baby!" We plugged in and vegged out.
The first night, we designated "bad movie" night. Appropriate, sadly, considering we found out that Corey Haim had died of an overdose at the age of 38 later that evening. G.I. Joe, Transformers 2, and X-men Origins: Wolverine.
Dan's Quick Capsule Review:
- G.I. Joe was very bad but was, at least, consistent in its awfulness. It was very C-list, but almost with a sort of Corman-esque flair to it.
- Transformers 2 was god awful. I will dare to say it: it was actually worse than G.I. Joe. A 2 and a half hour testosterone-fueled masturbation fest by Michael Bay. Words cannot describe how fucking god awful this movie was.
- Wolverine was actually a lot better than I had been told. If I knew nothing about the character or the story of Weapon X, I would find this movie pretty fun to watch. I think that most people who didn't like it were mainly upset because their fanboy crush on Deadpool was sorely misrepresented. But still, as far as a movie about mutant killing machines goes, I actually quite liked it. Not a great movie, not horrible. But fun. And cohesive. Which is more than I can say about Transformers 2. Did I mention that movie was a total piece of shite? It was, it was.
Now, you may be asking yourself, "What the heck is this guy who is on this amazing world trip, staying in Rome, ancient capitol of the world, doing watching movies and blogging about them rather than blogging about all the cool shit he should be seeing right now instead?"
Well, Dear Reader... the point of all this was that, like we do, we stayed up wayyyyyyy too late that first night. 4 am or so. It was great. We figured we'd sleep in, catch another full day of movies after we hit the supermarket for some groceries, and call it good. At 9 am, the construction in the condominium above our room began in earnest. A good solid two hours of intense hammering and metal sawing. Then our neighbors across the hall decided it would be best to air their grievances with each other in the hallway right in front of our door in loud, biting, rapid fire Italian at the top of their lungs. It was like a convention was going on right outside our door. I finally yelled out for them to stop and they got a little quieter... but not by much. By this time, we were awake and decided to get out and get groceries. When we returned, it was more of the same until it finally tapered off sometime around 7 pm or so. It was brutal but we figured, "Hey, that's life, right?" Wrong.
So we spent the night watching more movies. Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (totally pointless movie unless you are a big enough geek that you want to see if the movie really does follow the books faithfully... in which case you really need to get a life), I Love You Beth Cooper (Chris Colombus is no John Hughes), 500 Days of Summer (a brilliant film if for nothing but the intro alone. Amazing), and Julie and Julia (again. Yeah, that makes it twice now).
Again, a long night that we capped off by talking in the dark together for at least another hour afterward. 5 am? Sure, why not.
This morning, I awoke to the sound of heavy drilling. Like the sound metal slugs make as they grind their way into concrete, slow and pulsating. They teased me our of sleep at first: short bursts of trepidatious drilling followed by loooooong, heavy, muscle laden attempts to drill that fucker home. Palin and McCain would've been proud. Then the neighbor starts up again with her daughter. I furiously get ready, slam open my door, barrel past the feuding neighbors who are, in fact, RIGHT in front of my door when I open it, and go downstairs to find out what the fuck is going on. Turns out, there's nothing the hotel can do. They offer to move us. I say yes, dear god, yes. They tell me to go upstairs, wake my slumbering wife (who can sleep through a nuclear bomb detonation), and pack all my shit up. I do just that. Then they tell me it will be another hour before the room is ready. So glad I woke my wife up for the packing then. So glad. Yay!
They just knocked at the door to see if we're ready to go. So, here I am... getting ready to go.
The room is prepaid, so leaving isn't really an option. Here's hoping the other room is at least a little bit quieter since it won't be, y'know... right underneath the construction or across the hall from loud Italian lady and her arguing family. Crossing my fingers but not counting on anything. this is the first experience I have ever had of this kind. I hope to God it is my very fucking last.
2 days down. 8 to go. Hooray Rome.
-d@n
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