June 28, 2008

i can still make you blush

So I watched THE NOTEBOOK for the first time tonight.

Simone and I were both too tired to go out. We both are feeling "under the weather." By under the weather I mean we've both been sleep-deprived since Tuesday.

First we watched ATONEMENT. But we just fast-fowarded to all the dramatic romantic parts. And the sexy parts. Mostly the library scene and wounded sexy soldier scenes. And the end where everyone dies.


This was the result of all this sexy-emotional stimulation:
















I was made to feel sad. YES OK SO I CRIED A BIT JEEZ.

I cried because I thought about how young sexy lovers all become old or Gena Rowland or Vanessa Redgrave and then they die, sometimes together and sometimes apart.

And the younger and sexier the lovers, the sadder the reality is that they will lead
productive lives tinged with a forlorn saddest because they can't be with their young sexy counterpart until some complex shit happens and important decisions are made. And they will never be as attractive as they are in 1940!

And then by that time you're either off to war because you were falsely accused of a crime you didn't commit and you die of septicemia in a bunker. Or you get Alzheimer's and your husband reads you the story of your lives together that you wrote to him because you knew you were going to get Alzheimer's and want to remember for at least 5 minutes before you go all vascular dementia again and yell "WHO ARE YOU AND WHY ARE YOU CALLING ME DARLING?!" and your husband suffers 4 heart attacks.

THIS IS SO.
FUCKED UP.


I just don't know about this. I DON'T KNOW HOW I FEEL ABOUT ANYTHING ANYMORE.
Are tragic romantic films supposed to do this to a person? As in, remind them how their lives are lacking in such passion and emotion and strong feelings one way or another? How all of those things have been replaced by awkwardness and irony and having to pee for way too long because you feel too shy to get up and pee in the middle of a coffee date because if you do there's a good chance you'll just end up fleeing through the window because you told yourself that if you could think of more than 3 things you'd rather be doing than sitting there trying to think of things to say or varying interesting ways to respond, then you would escape through the bathroom window and you thought of 5?

I don't love anyone or anything. Sometimes I think it'd be nice to.
And you know... have it reciprocated this time.

I also think it would be nice if women wore those really pretty classic bathing suit onesies from the 1940s that give you a bangin hourglass figure.
Yeah, I want to get my hands on one.


Hell, I NEED to own this-- SOHOTRIGHTNOW!

1 comment:

Simone said...

what better way to end the evening with your own romantic drama. gosh.