Sunshine

I'm a sucker for the 'What If?' scenario. Which means that love stories that hit the hardest (for me) usually play into that theme. So, yes, this Valentine's Day or in the orbit of Valentine's Day I will be seeing Rachel McAdams and Channing Tatum in The Vow. Based on previews only, the film is about a married couple that gets in a car accident. The wife loses her memories from the last five years which means she thinks she's engaged to another man and has never met her current husband. Awkward! Her husband takes the rest of the movie to get his wife to fall in love with him all over again. Cheesy, I know. I don't even care.

Though Kaufman would probably disagree (he should), the movie reminded me of one of my favorite movies (romantic or otherwise), The Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. This movie is a kind of disguised love story. Joel and Clementine are lovers, but when they meet they have no idea since they both had their memories of each other removed. The film inter cuts between the breadth of their relationship and breakup, specifically transporting the viewer into Joel's memories as midway through his memory wipe he gets cold feet.

Joel travels through his memories with Clementine as each one is taken away and he realizes that even if he is miserable now, even though the relationship brought him so much pain, he'd rather have that than a void of nothing. Does that make love true? When you're willing to keep the bad just so you can hold on to the memory of the good?

No More Cake

I don't watch as much tv these days. In fact, Gossip Girl is the only show I consistently watch live. BTW, tonight's 100th episode made me sad and not in a good way.

But I did catch the series finale of Chuck, last Friday. I have blog posts dedicated to my first thoughts about Chuck and I'm glad that I stuck with the show for as long as I did. It was fun and funny and romantic in a terribly mushy way that I actually didn't mind so much. When Chuck and Sarah finally got together and stayed together, their relationship was a compliment to the show not a detractor.

The supporting cast was just aces. Casey, Morgan, Big Mike, Jeffster, Ellie and Awesome rounded the show with such warmth and humor. I beamed like the biggest geek when Jeffster performed "Take on Me". I'm so glad the show ended the way it did, although the cliffhanger the week before had me skeptical. Trust, Josh Schwartz, man! Trust. I know that sometimes shows should end before they expire creatively, but, darn, I'm gonna miss those nerds.

Save the Date

Save the Date revolves around five people.

First there are the two sisters, Sarah and Beth (played by Lizzy Caplan and Alison Brie). Sarah is a directionless manager of a bookstore and isn't in much of a rush to change where she's at. Beth both overcompensates with advice she knows her sister will never take and planning her wedding to Andrew.

Kevin and Andrew (played by Geoffrey Arend and Martin Starr) play in a band called Wolfbird. After a long courtship, Sarah moves in with Kevin and all she can think about is how much she'll miss the haunted couch she's leaving behind. Kevin proposes in the most uncomfortable way possible and is heartbroken when Sarah doesn't so much as say 'no' as flees the building.

And to round off the quintet, Jonathan is Sarah's new boyfriend (played by Mark Webber). Marine biologist and finder of cats. Everyone involved in Sarah's life is almost disappointed that this sweet guy is not the jerkwad rebound they were kind of hoping he'd be.

The film is littered with Sarah's drawings (done by graphic novelist and co-writer, Jeffrey Brown) which provide an outlet to Sarah's thoughts, but feel a little shoehorned at times.

Their conversations and interactions are refreshingly sincere. They bicker, they break up, they hook up, and all the while provide an honest humor throughout the film. Director and co-writer, Michael Mohan, said that they would sometimes start a scene two minutes before dialogue from the actual script so that the actors could have a chance to lead up to where they needed to be.

All of the performances are wonderful and I kept picking up lines of dialogue I have said in real life. Really cool and a little weird.

Nobody Walks

Nobody Walks is a pretty film that showcases pretty people and the ugly things they do. Peter (played by John Krasinski) is a sound engineer helping Martine with her short film about bugs (be warned: the bugs will get more screen time than Rosemarie Dewitt). Throughout the film, Martine has an allure that seems to leave the men around her stricken. Maybe that's what comes with being hot and twenty-three, but Martine's view of sex and men is so casual I found myself unsympathetic for all these men. Sex to her was just that and any romantic notions would be a fallacy. When the word 'betrayal' is mentioned both Martine and I look into the face of this poor schlub and wonder how he could be so delusional.

Julie (Dewitt) is a therapist and Peter's wife (okay, the bug comment may have been only an exasperated exaggeration). She also can't quite conceal her interest when one of her patients comes on to her. In one scene with her daughter, she is asked how she knew who she was supposed to be with. Julie gives the only answer she can, "You just pick one."

Her daughter, Colt, has her own romantic entanglements but the theme is the same. This is not a film about love. This is a film about inhibitions and when they get ignored, the characters do it with eyes wide open.

When all is said and done, I came away with very little.

Smashed

Kate (played by Mary Elizabeth Winstead) is an alcoholic. "I guess," she adds in her first AA meeting. When is that word appropriate? When you answer 'yes' to a series of questions in a pamphlet? When one beer escalates into twenty? When your husband becomes blase to you wetting the bed? When you tell your first grade class you're pregnant because you've just thrown up in front of all of them? Drinking makes Kate happy and interesting and charming. It numbs her just enough to survive the day and provides the majority of the entertainment for her nights.

But sometimes the memories aren't the quaint misadventures she would have them be, and she realizes she's starting to scare herself. Luckily, for her and for us, she has two ready players willing to help her along her recovery process, Dave and Jenny. Dave (played by Nick Offerman) works at the same school as Kate and invites her to AA. Jenny (played by Octavia Spencer) becomes her sponsor. Both provide honest advice and support and add gentle humor to a fellow comrade.

Aaron Paul plays Charlie, Kate's husband. It should be noted that even with severe Jesse Pinkman goggles on, I was happy to find that Charlie is not Jesse. Charlie asks Kate if they're supposed to become "wine with dinner" people and it becomes quickly apparent that a sober Kate may not mean the sunniest marriage. The cast, (including Mary Kay Place as Kate's mother and Megan Mullally as the principal of Kate's school) support the already strong script with the right mix of humor and pathos. Ug, I hate that word. What's a less cloying word for pathos? Ahem. Kudos to director, James Ponsoldt and co-writer, Susan Burke for a movie that is balanced with effective non sequiturs and subtle but engaging performances.

I like that sobriety isn't the magical wand that Kate thought it would be. New problems replace old ones and this time she has to face them without the bleary eyes of her favorite companion. Smashed is the kind of story I love. Those quiet snapshots of a person's life when all pretenses are taken away and you find yourself happy to have survived at all. And a little sad too.

La La La

I heard a great track today on KRCL called "This Head I Hold" by Electric Guest. It made me think of all of the singles I've been listening to lately. Real Estate's "It's Real". Kimbra's "Settle Down". James Vincent McMorrow's cover of "Wicked Games".

Ofcourse, I went back to work and immediately sought out whole albums over playlists. Namely, Write About Love by Belle and Sebastian and Apples in Stereo's New Magnetic Wonder. Love that music still has the ability to affect my mood and listening to the story unfold within a great album is even better.

First night of Sundance is tonight. Hope the weather stops crapping all over my day.

Je t'aime

As I've said on previous occasions, I wouldn't call myself a social person, but there are times, like tonight, where the benefits of social situations outweigh the drawbacks. These past few weeks I've thought a lot about love. The good kind, the simple kind, and the darker side, the kind that can bring about so much pain one almost forgets why it was all worth it. Tonight I got to have stirring conversations with women I've come to truly adore. Being social usually drains me, but sometimes it's invigorating and I wish I wasn't always so reticent to go out more.

As I've grown older, I find it more difficult to look to couples around me as examples of true love. I'm not sure if youth played a part in this perception or my limited circle. I wonder if my own public interactions with my husband convey how much I care for him. I wish I could say that it always does, but I'm not sure. My sarcasm can come off mean.

I'm reading My Life in France, Julia Child's memoir. Her companionship with her husband is so refreshing, so supportive. Besides giving me serious Gallic envy, I love that Paul Child is not only her husband but her great friend. How exciting to share adventures with your best friend!

Wanting a Bean Feast

I'm not sure why I continue to ask my husband questions I already know the answers to. In this case, I asked whether he thinks I get offended easily. His answer was a good humored, "Duh." Which I paused long enough to think of a way to refute without proving his point.

It is only somewhat true, I guess. I have this duality of mild mannered complacency and focused sensitivity that disarms most people. But luckily, this characteristic comes out only when provoked and/or over very particular topics. In fact, in most cases I have recognized my own red flags and have mostly stymied my own reactions.

What I am wondering is whether I've improved well enough to control my temper when known triggers arise in my future. I realize the husband is a poor observer since he usually gets the brunt of my looking-to-unload rants. I ask this for two reasons. Sundance and my spring trip. Park City parking is my nemesis and so are airports. These two things best me every time and I hope to be more tranquil as I try to play nice both next week and in a few months.

I Musings

I have been seriously tempted lately to join the crowd and get an iPhone. I absolutely do not need an iPhone. I just want one. Sometimes I wonder that as I've grown older, I've lost touch with technological advances. I definitely don't need to own the latest and greatest of every gadget but I wouldn't mind keeping a look out for some of the newer things.

I've owned the same 80G iPod since 2005 and it works just fine, but it is a brick of a thing and the husband is willing to take it off my hands since his 30G dinosaur iPod is slowly dying. I suppose we can find something that will work for us. I certainly don't want something that I will come to depend on. Chalk it up to my minimalist tendencies, but I hope that there is nothing I come to own that I would be devastated if it wound up lost or stolen.

L-O-V-E

I think I was a bit too hard on Valentine's Day yesterday. I think the spirit of Valentine's is a day to tell the people you love that you love them. It's kind of like Christmas. For some the sentiment loses out to other distractions, but it's still there for those that look for it.

I don't love easily. I don't even like easily. But I'm confident the people I do love know it. My circle is small and I know that I should be more willing to expand it than guarding its size. It'll grow. Slowly. But it'll grow.

Be Mine

The next big holiday on store shelves seems to be Valentine's Day. And these Valentine's Day cards have me wondering if maybe I should give this day another shot.

I hate Valentine's Day. Or maybe I should say I nothing Valentine's Day. When I was younger, it seemed more fun because it meant designing cool Valentine's Day boxes and collecting a bunch of candy. But when the Valentine's Day boxes disappeared with age, so did my enjoyment.

My entire relationship with my husband has been a Valentine-free zone. We pretty much treat it like any other day. Instead we celebrate two anniversaries, our wedding and our first date. Neither of us are very romantic, but it seems to me like if I need a day to commemorate my relationship I might as well not be in one.

Hmm, this is the opposite of where I wanted to go with this post. I guess the solution is to start up the Valentine Day box idea and see if some of that childish excitement returns. In the mean time, you know what my husband's getting for V-day this year!

Beyond Splendor

When I was around ten or eleven years old, my favorite movie was Splendor in the Grass. This will tell you a little bit about what a weird kid I was growing up, and though I've moved on to other favorites, I still think a lot about this movie.

Deanie Loomis (played by Natalie Wood) is a good high school girl that knows exactly how her life is supposed to go. But waiting for the eventual happy ending proves challenging and she slowly finds herself bereft of all those nice pictures she had in her head. The movie is set around the end of the Roaring 20's and the start of the Great Depression.

My favorite part is the ending where Deanie realizes that even though nothing turned out the way she thought it would, the disappointment doesn't have to last. The changes may even bring about something better. And if not better, then perhaps the different version turns you better.

Phew

I have been bombarded by work duties these past few days, but I hope the rest of this week will slow down enough to catch my breath. I smiled when I finally got in my car tonight to go home and REM's "It's the End of the World as We Know it (And I Feel Fine)" greeted me on the radio.

It never ceases to amaze me that even after a full work day and a skipped lunch, I ended the night feeling happy. It never really takes much, just a new perspective and a catchy tune. This song has been in my head all this weekend.

Poor Bunnies

I didn't have a lot of thoughts today beyond spreadsheets and flowcharts, but I did come home to find a new dresser waiting for me which was nice to see over the old one I poached from my little sister five years ago with stickers on the side.

The husband and I also purchased a new 2012 calendar to replace our 2011 yoga cat calendar. I wanted the robot calendar that offered paper robots you could actually punch out and fold into paper robot replicas of the featured robot. Instead, we went with the cartoon suicidal bunnies. It felt like a compromise.

I've cleared out my closet. I've booked my spring trip. All this activity is almost making me want to backslide into hibernation or at least prolonged nap time. I want 2012 to be a relaxing year more than anything, but I know I need to be more specific.

Lion King/Dark Knight Rises Mash-Up

Exhausted at work and needed a pick-me-up when I got home. Hence:



Watch a Lion King–Dark Knight Rises Mash-Up

Three Gifts

I just finished Terri Pratchett's Wyrd Sisters and besides the after effect of me talking in a terrible British accent for most of yesterday (my sister's description, not mine), I also concluded that Terri Pratchett grants great godmother wishes. "Three good witches are supposed to give the baby three gifts."

Instead of the usual fairy nonsense, they come up with three gifts I can't say I would regret receiving myself. The ability to make friends easily, a good memory and becoming exactly the person you think you are. Beat that, Perrault with your dumb beauty and gift of song! Okay, let's be honest, Walt Disney.

In fact their reasoning was so sound, I find it difficult to come up with three better. The baby didn't need good looks as his father would provide the genes for that. He didn't need wisdom as they would allow the opportunity for the boy to find it himself. Money isn't everything, they reasoned.

I suppose if there were three attributes that I would wish for myself (aside from the Terri Pratchett ones), I would like the ability to say exactly what I wanted to say, with the right tone, inflection, volume and intent as to be perfectly understood. I would like to know the right moments to be silent. And lastly, I would like to have perfect hand eye coordination (the last one would have saved me a lot of embarrassment my entire childhood and adolescence).

Just Kids

I finished Patti Smith's memoir, Just Kids, over the Christmas break. I find it helpful to read about courageous people in case bravery is contagious.

Pattie moved to New York when job prospects were bleak in her hometown and finishing her degree at a teacher's college was financially and emotionally discouraging. On her first night, she meets the man that will become her companion for a large part of her life in New York, Robert Mapplethorpe. As she tries to carve out her way through art, poetry and music, Robert's artistic path is intertwined.

Robert and Patti have the kind of intuitive relationship that I admire. Even when they realize limitations in their relationship, the love that they have for each other is never questioned. They support and protect each other, acquiesce when kindness is needed and provoke when needed more.

I never liked the idea that when two people fit so well together they have somehow become whole or complete, suggesting perhaps that alone they stand as only a part of a person. Robert and Patti are illustrated as two complete people that can stand alone in their accomplishments, cheering the other on with the knowledge that the success was always secretly assured. How do you fit that kind of a relationship in a neat little bow of metaphor or simile? How do you describe, especially when both moved on to other lovers, what that kind of love still is? Patti succeeds in her book. So happy to have read it.

Review

My Christmas break is officially over and I've been ruminating on what resolutions I should write for the new year. I had three goals for 2011.

Read 50 books within the year.
Contribute bi-weekly to my blog.
Exercise weekly.

I read 47 books this year. So I think that counts as a soft fail. My second goal was a definite fail as I only started this one in November and hadn't contributed to my old blog at all. My third goal was also a soft fail as the last eight months, I've exercised at least once a week, missing the occasional week. Before that, I had to count using-stairs-instead-of-the-elevator-at-work exercise.

For once, I have not been as hard on myself as I would otherwise be at my own failings. I've decided that as long as I accomplish the spirit with which the goal was set than I'll have still accomplished something grand.

I still want to read more. I want to put my thoughts down and practice my writing. I want to be more physically active (Janet Jackson abs always in the back of my mind yet never quite attained).

There are others. I want to improve my memory. I want to control my temper and be kinder to others. I want to be braver and maybe even attempt spontaneity, unconcerned with potential risks. I want so many things. I just need to keep it to paper.