Last night, I was driving Miss Daisy (or Jen) since she was having her car worked on. We cooked dinner and dessert at her house with the family (2 Casebolts, 1 Weston and 1 Green) and watched the replay of Grey's from Thursday night. Then we watched the end of Jerry McGuire and I stayed up and watched the whole movie again by myself. I really used to like Tom Cruise, he was a great actor at times. Jerry McGuire by far has the most cliche' catchphrases of any movie I enjoy (maybe The Godfather(s) and Scarface are truly at the top of the list, but I relate to Jerry McGuire more than those gangster movies - not that I don't like them). I think sayings like "you complete me" and "you had me at hello" give the general population hope for finding, accepting and nurturing true love. I was in 6th grade when the movie was released and I can remember sobbing and wishing for "love like that". But in reality, that whole scenario would NEVER possibly happen. The super-sexy, hyper-popular man decides to landmine his exuberantly successful career and freaking smoking hot girlfriend to find true love with the cute, but plain secretary and her nerdy (yet adorable) child? Ridiculous. Wouldn't happen. And if it did, he would eventually heave himself back to the precipice of this game and would then leave the Plain Jane and child for another equally vain and overly gorgeous bimbo with plastic parts. But its a great love story. A fantasy. To rot the ideals of lovelorn romantics far and wide. I get it.
At the same time, I am compelled to be forthright in saying I still love the movie, because I relate to it. The passion, self-evaluation and moral juxtaposition that drives Jerry to rant and rave in his "mission statement" is reflective of this very blog and my desire to spill my guts to my computer everyday. I have that virus that makes me honestly believe that good enough will never be good enough. Where constant growth and rebirth are necessary for life and happiness. I also hold a major fallacy in that I allow myself to pretend that what I do with my life actually matters. Possibly here and there it counts. My kids may learn some sight words or how to walk in the hallway, but am I really impacting their lives the way my romanticized life plan demands? Absolutely not. And I know this and am sure b/c I am too scared to ACT on what would make my life have actual meaning. I talk a fluffy, bold and confident talk, but really I'm scared stiff to make a mistake or take a chance. With good reason, nonetheless, for when I have taken those chances I've been crushed, devastated and debilitated emotionally and physically. I just can't take chances like that again, not with the actions at least.
Heard on Thursday night that the Zodiac has changed...? Originally the wobble of the earth wasn't taken into consideration, so now the months aren't aligned with the astrological star formations. Anyway, I used to be a Taurus and now I'm an Aries. Not that I really believe in any of it. But both signs fit my personality. Great. So now I'm a fighting bull. Sounds perfect.
Heading to the UK game with Mom. I'll blog again today to make up for yesterday's debacle.
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