Love Story
I took advantage of M being out of town tonight to watch a classic romance. His idea of a classic involves aliens in black and white (think The Day The Earth Stood Still...the original one) or in grainy Technicolor (think Close Encounters of the Third Kind). I had never seen Love Story, and my in-laws own it, so I asked them if I could borrow it. I also asked for The Way We Were, which it turns out they don't have, so my FIL compensated by bringing over a whole spate of movies for my selection - thanks Dad! I figured I'd have a nice evening on the couch, curled up in a blanket, relaxing and watching a nice movie.
Boy, was I wrong.
I wound up a sobbing mess, covered in used tissues, wondering (not for the first time, I might add), "Why did they give this to me to watch?!" It's like the time when Zoe was about 3 weeks old and they lent us Flight Plan, a movie where a woman loses her husband to murder and then has her daughter kidnapped on a freakin' airplane. I checked on Zoe about 40 times that night, in between blubbering on the couch and clinging to M while he prayed for a quick end to my post-natal hormonal imbalance.
Tonight, though, it was just me. Just me and good ol' Max, who doesn't care which movie I'm watching and/or crying about as long as he gets to camp out on the couch since M isn't home. Good cat, Max. He passes no judgment.
I don't think I'm cut out for these types of movies. I can't handle them. I don't have the emotional fortitude. I think I should stick with Blues Brothers and Dumb & Dumber and fine films of that ilk. The ones that make me crack up laughing and allow me to not sport puffy eyes the next morning.
One of the movies my FIL brought over tonight is Terms of Endearment. I've seen snippets of that. Enough to know that I will be completely off my rocker if I follow Love Story with that. No freakin' way. I need to put a buffer in there. The Three Stooges or something. Anything with Jim Carrey.
Love Story is good, though. Really, really good. I give it a five-hanky rating.
Boy, was I wrong.
I wound up a sobbing mess, covered in used tissues, wondering (not for the first time, I might add), "Why did they give this to me to watch?!" It's like the time when Zoe was about 3 weeks old and they lent us Flight Plan, a movie where a woman loses her husband to murder and then has her daughter kidnapped on a freakin' airplane. I checked on Zoe about 40 times that night, in between blubbering on the couch and clinging to M while he prayed for a quick end to my post-natal hormonal imbalance.
Tonight, though, it was just me. Just me and good ol' Max, who doesn't care which movie I'm watching and/or crying about as long as he gets to camp out on the couch since M isn't home. Good cat, Max. He passes no judgment.
I don't think I'm cut out for these types of movies. I can't handle them. I don't have the emotional fortitude. I think I should stick with Blues Brothers and Dumb & Dumber and fine films of that ilk. The ones that make me crack up laughing and allow me to not sport puffy eyes the next morning.
One of the movies my FIL brought over tonight is Terms of Endearment. I've seen snippets of that. Enough to know that I will be completely off my rocker if I follow Love Story with that. No freakin' way. I need to put a buffer in there. The Three Stooges or something. Anything with Jim Carrey.
Love Story is good, though. Really, really good. I give it a five-hanky rating.
posted by Amy at 11:23 PM
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