why pour your life in tiny measures?

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9 may 1997

11:46 p.m.

Dear diary, "Chasing Amy" finally opened tonight at Varsity. Derek, with as decidedly little fanfare as possible from me, left for California this morning. Problem? Not really. I just went with someone else. Perhaps at the prodding of Derek, Mary called me out of the blue. It was mildly awkward, seeing as how she's the wife of my boyfriend's coworker and it took me nearly twenty questions before I could figure out who she was (never start a conversation with me by saying, "Hey, remember me?"). Fortunately, she really knew how to keep a conversation going. I hadn't seen her -- nor her beau Sean -- since March (when she and I vied for Bitch of the Year). Somewhere in the meantime, she'd managed to get pregnant. She was only six weeks along, so the real adventure had nowhere near begun. Even so, her eagerness to plunge into the whole experience -- random projectile vomiting and all -- was admirable. She's due the same week of their third anniversary. She and I both lost our men to the same mouse, so we resolved to get together to commiserate. She didn't have any ideas about what we could do. Fortunately I had a suggestion. She rose several notches in my book when she mentioned she was actually waiting for "Chasing Amy" to open too. Not only that, but she'd memorized more lines from "Clerks" than I had. She and I hit the Varsity area at about the same time as half of Honolulu, and we honked gleefully whenever we passed each other in the melee of traffic trying to find street parking. By the time we staggered to the box office, the 5:40 show had just begun. We picked up tickets for the 8 o'clock show, crossed over to the Greek Corner for a couple of beef 'n' lamb gyros, then wandered a bit down Beretania Avenue. All the while, Mary plotted out the life of her forthcoming progeny. The debate of the month, it seemed, was the kid's name. She and Sean both agreed that if the output was female, Lauryn (note the "y" -- his idea, not hers) would be fine. If it was male, though, look out. He's dead set on Nicholas, while she wants Marc or Stephen. My suggestion, Dante, was also well received. When we got back to the theater, Greg was there. After I'd done a messy job of introducing him to Mary as my sort-of-an-ex, he stopped the show by introducing his boyfriend. At Greg's prodding, Mary and I both affirmed he was cute, which made him blush, which further proved our evaluation -- the whole exchange entertaining Greg profusely. We milled around outside with the crowd, a number of thirty-somethings loudly disclaiming to anyone who recognized them, "Yeah, we're here for the Gen-X thing," acting as if they were embarrassed to be there. Frankly I think many aging boomers are just jealous that people my age don't look up to them at all. And on top of that, we make better movies. "Chasing Amy" was great. I couldn't even compare it to "Clerks," 'cause it's clear Kevin Smith was telling the story from an entirely different part of his mind. I'm definitely going to see it again, with Derek, and shamelessly revel in its skillfully-engineered relevance to the kind of things that come up in modern relationships. Though I now see what is causing the stir among some gay-rights groups, I'm more convinced they're barking up the wrong tree. The female lead's lesbianism is not the focus of the conflict in "Chasing Amy." Though it plays a large part, the "journey" is less about the type of sexuality and more about the extent. Nearly everyone -- straight, bi, gay, Prince, what have you -- has to wrestle with the past of a loved one, be it "fingercuffs" or merely making out at the prom. I realized, after some thought, that both sides in the flap over "Chasing Amy" could be right. In my view, Alyssa's character rightfully refused to limit her choices in lovers. Yet gay-rights groups resent the fact that she shared their world for her chosen sexuality, rightfully asserting that most homosexuals do not and cannot choose theirs. It's a tough paradox. And no film could ever come near to resolving it, let alone try to explain it to the average American moviegoer. I know, beyond any doubt, that people can be born gay. With the pain and confusion of adolescence, the religious and political personal persecution, the rampant heterosexism in popular culture -- who would choose that life? On the other hand, I would not take issue with someone exploring "the other side." I would defend anyone's right to choose how they share their sexuality with willing partners, whether it be using Cool Whip during foreplay or swinging in a leather hammock above a bed of steamed cabbage, flogging each other with licorice and composing haiku.