On the other hand, in a way it seems as if it's time that I just accepted my fate and started packing. The danger there is that the moment I get myself moved to my parents' house, I'm sure that I'll find an incredibly lucrative job that would be totally convenient from my Fresh Meadows apartment. Plus, I know I won't get the same amount of sound level leeway under the yoke of my parents, as liberal as they may be, as I do from my current landlord (who complained for the first time ever about the sound level last week when I demoed the "Seismic Mines" sequence from Star Wars: Episode II: Attack of the Clones at 10:30 at night for Tim and Dave).
I also like the idea of renting whatever I want whenever I want. This is a more minor issue, as my tastes usually do not run towards the more ribald films (although there are exceptions, most notably Nagisa Oshima's classic In the Realm of the Senses, which still needs a decent anamorphic widescreen transfer of the complete original film onto DVD; the two editions from Fox Lorber consist of a truncated version of the film in Japanese in pan-and-scan and a widescreen English dubbed versions), but by the same token, whatever I decide to watch is my domain. I will have my home theater of course, but I must be cognizant of what I watch when Zach is around. In other words, the Peter Greenaway films will have to wait until he's asleep lest he come downstairs at an embarrasing moment.
Ah well. I must say goodnight to Zach.