(no subject)
I'm watching "Sabrina" for the 278th time (the Julia Ormand version; my Audrey Hepburn version is long since dead, and I've not yet replaced it). This movie gets to me in a way that I really wished it did not. Julia Ormand very well should have, could have, almost did, replace Audrey Hepburn as the most beautiful, most elegant woman in cinema, but did not. Why? Her choice in projects, I suppose. Too serious, too dark. Audrey made her career on romantic comedies. Julia has only made one, as far as I'm aware (if anyone knows of another, please let me know, I'd love to see it). In some ways, I like the newer version better. First of all, I didn't like the idea that Sabrina was so weak (in the original) that she would attempt suicide, sign of the times, perhaps. Also, I can't even remember the name of the guy who played David in the first film, but he didn't impress me nearly as much as Greg Kinnear did. It was his first film, for Christ's sake, and he was incredible!. Harrison Ford, well... duh. He's fucking Harrison - by - god- Ford, for Christ sakes. He's the only reason I liked the first three Star Wars Films.
Where the fuck was I?
Linus. Yes, Linus. He made the right choices for the wrong reasons, and yet, it all worked out. I really wish that would happen in real life. Hell, we make the right choices for the wrong reasons, the wrong choices for the right reasons, even the right choices for the right reasons, but does it ever work out? No. Well, not in my experience anyway. Then again, life is not the movies. It's not literature, it's not even a webcomic. The reasons for our choices don't matter, the choices don't matter. Nothing works out the way we plan, the way we hope, certainly not the way we dream.
I've been in love twice in my entire life. Personally, I think that's an extraodinary number of times. Most people never find true love, they settle for what's convenient. I don't talk about the first time I fell in love. The second time didn't work out because I overcompensated for my distant, aloof independence. I almost fell in love a third time, but I ran away to the great white midwest rather than risk it.
The choices we make are not a means to an end however. They are the end. They define us. Succeed or fail, the results do not matter. What matters is our growth as people, our lives are circumscribed by the tracery of our emotional scars, a road map of our personal road trip, as it were. Life, love, death, pain. We prefer the "positive" aspects, but we need all of them. I treasure my traumas. I would not change anything had I the chance to relive my life. I might be happier, but I would not be me. Actually, I would change one thing, but I can't talk about that. I would arrange it so that I'd still be me, but someone who is not here still would be. Two someones, actually.
I'm not an optimist; the glass is not half full.
I'm not a pessimist; the glass is not half empty.
I'm a realist; the glass hasn't nearly enough vodka.
I'm going back to putting my waterbed together now.
Then, I go back to work.
I'll sleep when I pass out. Probably at my desk.
Where the fuck was I?
Linus. Yes, Linus. He made the right choices for the wrong reasons, and yet, it all worked out. I really wish that would happen in real life. Hell, we make the right choices for the wrong reasons, the wrong choices for the right reasons, even the right choices for the right reasons, but does it ever work out? No. Well, not in my experience anyway. Then again, life is not the movies. It's not literature, it's not even a webcomic. The reasons for our choices don't matter, the choices don't matter. Nothing works out the way we plan, the way we hope, certainly not the way we dream.
I've been in love twice in my entire life. Personally, I think that's an extraodinary number of times. Most people never find true love, they settle for what's convenient. I don't talk about the first time I fell in love. The second time didn't work out because I overcompensated for my distant, aloof independence. I almost fell in love a third time, but I ran away to the great white midwest rather than risk it.
The choices we make are not a means to an end however. They are the end. They define us. Succeed or fail, the results do not matter. What matters is our growth as people, our lives are circumscribed by the tracery of our emotional scars, a road map of our personal road trip, as it were. Life, love, death, pain. We prefer the "positive" aspects, but we need all of them. I treasure my traumas. I would not change anything had I the chance to relive my life. I might be happier, but I would not be me. Actually, I would change one thing, but I can't talk about that. I would arrange it so that I'd still be me, but someone who is not here still would be. Two someones, actually.
I'm not an optimist; the glass is not half full.
I'm not a pessimist; the glass is not half empty.
I'm a realist; the glass hasn't nearly enough vodka.
I'm going back to putting my waterbed together now.
Then, I go back to work.
I'll sleep when I pass out. Probably at my desk.