Sometimes You've Got to Give a Little

Otherwise known as.... The Artist Can Wait...

After a hard week full of heady, conflicting emotions, I was looking forward to a good weekend.  On Thursday night GDA and I were talking about what movie we wanted to see on Friday night. 

How about The Artist?  I suggested.  I know it's playing at the Enzian, but not until 9:15. 

That sounds good.  

I have been looking forward to introducing GDA to my favorite indie movie theater, and when The Artist cleaned house at the Golden Globes, I knew it was only a matter of time before it would be showing at the Enzian.  Predictably, it is showing there now, and probably will be for at least the next two weeks.  Okay, I'll buy the tickets online so we won't have to wait in line at the theater.  We hung up not long after that.

Then I started thinking.  You know, GDA was really great about going to see Romeo and Juliet last week.  (The fight scenes were his favorite part-- there was even fake blood!)  Not only that, he was going to spend Saturday evening in a room full of teacher folk who would no doubt be indulging in quite a bit of edu-speak (not to mention be my designated driver).  It really is unfair of me to always expect him to accommodate my cultural cravings.  He is a guy after all.  Sometimes you've got to give a little.  That's what being in a relationship is all about, right? 

I called him back.  Honey, do you want to see the latest Underworld instead?  We had caught the third in the series on FX last weekend.  I had never seen any of the Underworld movies, so GDA filled me in on the back story.  It was more violent than what I usually watch, but again, he is a man.  He had asked me if I thought I could watch the next Underworld at the movies without jumping out of my seat.  I am the worst when it comes to watching blood and gore and such.  I either scrunch my eyes closed or cover them outright.  I can't help it.  I used to teach kindergarten for pete's sake!

OH!  That sounds GOOD!  The enthusiasm was more than evident in his adorable Argentinian-accented voice.

Friday evening, I drove to GDA's, picked him up, and we drove together to the movie theater.  As I expected, the movie was violent, but GDA and I developed this really sweet system.  It just happened really.  He (of course) would see that I was in the I-can't-watch-the-screen mode, and when whatever was happening that I couldn't watch was over, GDA would say, That's it.  Those two little words would let me know that it was safe to uncover my eyes until the next Lycan was having its head removed or some such blood-spurting action.  At one point, I actually did see some vertical arterial spray coming out of something's neck where a head had been.  Truth be told, it looked kind of cool.  GDA looked at me.  That was NICE.

Oh dear.

The movie lasted ninety minutes.  Ninety minutes of blood and gore and Kate Beckinsale in a catsuit. 

It really wasn't so bad.  I used to go to Star Trek and other sci-fi movies with my dad as a way of bonding with him.  I could get into Underworld, and maybe some other action flicks, too, with GDA.  That's the thing about relationships... you begin to adapt to each other, and love continues to grow.  It's when you stop adapting, or maintain rigidity, that difficulties arise. 

Maybe we'll see The Artist next weekend.