[Because it’s was my birthday, and because I’m refinishing cabinets and I started a new job, I’m recycling an oldie. If you remember this post, congratulations. You’re two years older and still like reading pointless stuff on the INTERNETS.]
I’m currently babysitting my best friend’s 6 month old. Yes, the same best friend who pumps breast milk in my car and leaves it in my fridge, okay? This is the first 10 minutes I’ve had all day and I find myself exhausted on the couch, drinking coffee that I poured five hours ago, and watching an Oprah special on loveless marriages. Somehow I feel that I’ve just been given a glimpse into my life in about five fifteen twenty years. I’m sorry, will you excuse me while I wipe the squash residue off my glasses?
Ok, I’m back. As you can deduce from its title – this blog ends with us pondering matters of Destiny, but first, it’s going to stop at the gas station and pick up some snacks while we avoid the subject.
Somewhere around 2am last night I was like, what the crap? So I proceeded to pop in one of my all time favorite movies: Only You. Stop scratching your head – you’ve never seen it. And if you have, you wrote it off within the first 5 mins or as soon as Marisa Tomei said, “He’d kill tigers for you.” And you’d be justified. But I love it to pieces and that is just something you’ll have to live with.
The reasons why I love this movie out number the reasons why I hate Neil Diamond. And no, it’s not just Robert Downey, Jr. speaking Italian. Or the runaway bride fiasco. Or Marisa Tomei. No, definitely not her. In fact, just ignore her the entire movie. The main reason is because it is set in Italy, for which my obsession grew exponentially when I actually visited. Then my camera broke right in front of the Colosseum and ruined my trip.
Needless to say, I cannot express the beauty of this land. It’s magical. And I never use that gross word. Not only the scenery, but the people. It’s a place where people actually care about something more than money. They enjoy life. They can’t understand you, but they’ll laugh with you and hand you some gelato. Or a plate of pasta. Go as quickly as you can. It IS as beautiful as it looks. It WILL change your life. And I PROMISE to stop talking about Italy now.
Anyway, I’ve never been a gooey person. Shocker. I can’t even accept a compliment on my hair much less someone telling me that they can’t live without me. I hate receiving flowers or any other impractical gift that dies or has an expiration date; I would never dance in the middle of a street; I don’t want a fairytale wedding, and I certainly don’t celebrate “anniversaries,” whether they be actual legitimate yearly milestones or fake excuses to go out to eat, like, say, 7 months.
Although Only You may be a chic flick, the sheer beauty is that it actually makes fun of the concept of “destiny” and preconceived ideas that there is one true soulmate for everyone. Because would I watch it if it didn’t? Absolutely not. I think when I was younger, I believed that your whole life was a search for “your other half,” and now, I believe you could be happy with any number of people. Just in a different way. I’m not sure which conclusion is the right one, and I have a feeling I never will.
However, there are exceptions to every rule.
And this is my exception: if I should ever find myself strolling along a rainy, cobblestoney, Italian street, while being serenaded by a gray-haired African-American (note: he HAS to be African-American for this scenario to work) playing the saxophone, while talking to a charming and dangerously witty brunette who was able to quote Goethe – I just might dance in the middle of the street. Under the right circumstances, anything is possible.
If you’d like to witness this exact scenario, please skip ahead to 1:35. If not, please watch the entire thing anyway.
Only by joy and sorrow does a person know anything about themselves and their destiny.
– Goethe.
Wondering where I went? I have returned to blogging over at my whole foods blog Celery and the City, where we live so clean it’s like your insides took a bath.
I’ll address your concerns later. But basically, she chemically burned her eye and my hip always pops out of joint, rendering me helpless for about an hour or so. The doctor said working out would help to prevent the problem. Translation: I’ll have this problem for life.
1. I would have actually raised my hand to answer questions in grade school as opposed to staring at the puke-stained carpet cus I was too shy to talk, while listening to Johnny s-s-spit out the answer already – which was always incorrect. I partially blame Johnny for my teeth-grinding habit.
She was the type of mom that had cupcakes waiting after school. She never had a ‘don’t spoil your dinner’ rule because life is just too short. She told me every day how beautiful I was even when my face was one giant zit and I accidentally came home with orangey-blonde-skunk-stripe highlights in my hair (I cried myself to sleep for a week). She taught me how to respect myself and how confidence is the key to just about everything. In my teen years, she made me call her the minute I got in my car so that she could pinpoint where I was in case my car broke down and I got kidnapped by a rapist. She never slept until I walked in the door – even if it was 4am – then we’d watch The Bachelor, or Entertainment Tonight. She’s not into jewlery, or vacations, or nice clothes – and she is undoubtedly the hardest person to buy for.
