“Eat, Pray, Love” Or Don’t Love In My Case

I’m a book kind of girl. I read a lot of books, buy a lot of books, borrow and lend a lot of books. That’s why I always say to myself, once you’ve read the book, DO NOT see the movie. I say it, I mean it, I don’t listen to myself and I regret it. So, in my opinion the title of this movie should be “Eat, Pray, Don’t Love. That’s how I felt after seeing “Eat, Pray, Love” based on the book by Elizabeth Gilbert. WHY didn’t I listen to myself?  Because I think I know myself better than I really do; and I am usually wrong. So, once again, I am saying visualize on your own, don’t see the movie afterwards, it ruins the images you have.

The movie started with Julia Roberts’  luminous face, all toothy grin and natural beauty. She’s a great actress but a little too showy, too pretty and shiny for this movie.  Light softly silhouettes her face, there is beautiful scenery which of course showcases again the light of Julia’s pretty face. She’s beautiful even when she is supposed to be an emotional wreck. I wanted more authenticity instead of Julia Roberts playing Pretty Woman Now Middle-Aged. It was Julia Roberts on Julia Roberts, in just about every scene.

Another thing for us real women; if i had gone to Italy for a month of carbs and conversation I would have gained 30 lbs. and would have worn sweat pants instead of the teeny-tiny jeans she was wearing before and after in the film. If you are going to love your pizza, and your pasta, your wine, bread etc. keep it real. Most women don’t giggle lying down in a fitting room buying only the tiniest of jeans. Yes, we’ve all done the zipper trick  at home, on our beds, alone, but most of us would show we have gained weight, which is how real life is. Embrace your body? Not with those size 0 or 2 or 4 jeans, not even close.

The other incredibly annoying thing about the movie, which I found totally inappropriate, was the sound track. As soon as I heard the first song, my mouth was wide open, aghast. I’m sure the songs themselves will be hits but they just didn’t belong to the movie. Did Elizabeth Gilbert hear those songs in her mind? Somehow, I doubt it.

Pretty woman, you’re still pretty, and beautiful  but you’re amazingly privileged in the movie. I know a lot of people who go through marital troubles and they don’t get paid a nice salary for taking off time and traveling abroad. I understand the chaos you went through, I ‘m just not buying Julia Roberts feeling it.

Mothers, Teenage Daughters And Forever 21

The almost 16-year-old young lady lies beside me as we watch her favorite show, Glee. I watch that with her to bond, to share something with her, to enjoy something together.  I try to make a casual reference to a theme in the show that I feel is important and she totally shuts me off. “I don’t want to hear about it” she says harshly, hand raised in the “stop” position. Sometimes I don’t know who she is or how she works.  Granted, she is the opposite of me in terms of personality, she is more like my husband.  She keeps things deep inside her where I wear my heart on a sleeve. If there is something upsetting me it shows on my face, 5 miles away but she wouldn’t notice that or can’t pick up the social cues. I don’t know if it’s her style or her personality or just how her brain works.  My son, on the other hand, just has to look at me from afar and ask “what’s wrong?” But he and I are much more similar in nature so that really is no surprise. We have the ability to think the same thing at the same second, to understand each other with a simple glance, to read each others mind. I love and like my children equally, believe me, but some things are easier when you can identify more with a person’s style.

I find my daughter to be embarrassed by me, by the way I say” Hi “to her friends,( I know, better to stay silent and move away) to the way I dress, eat, and even dance alone in my room.  I feel I can do nothing right with her most of the times, (and I am sure, she feels the exact same thing about me) with the exception of driving her to the mall when she wants to go, or paying for a short skirt or a bikini. Then, she is all smiles, warmth, happiness with free-flowing, easy gratitude.  It’s when I say “no” that brings out the tone of voice I find less than respectful and the teenage girl “attitude.”  Mothers, I’m sure you know what I mean: tone, eye roll, silence, shoulder shrug, etc.

I feel like I’m being used; I know I am being used. I know it’s supposed to be natural for mothers and daughters to have these ongoing battles but how long are they going to last?  I want my daughter back, please return her to me, I promise to be patient.  I’ve had differences with my own mother from time to time but they were emotional in nature and usually when I felt hurt. With my daughter, she acts like a part of the family, but sometimes in it for herself. She will smile sweetly and talk softly when she wants me to take her to the nail salon or to buy her a frozen vanilla latte from Starbucks. But, when the “boys” were out-of-town and I offered to take her out to eat at her favorite restaurant, it was a distinct “No Thanks!” because she would be embarrassed to be seen with me on a Friday night, alone. Sigh, there is a part of me that totally understands this, I probably went through similar things myself, maybe I hid it more.  But, as a parent, it still stings, no doubt about it.

Maybe it’s the entitlement issue, the me, me, me, all me generation as my husband and I call it. We don’t differ our parental styles to our son and our daughter but their attitudes are totally different. I DO NOT favor one child over another but yes, I do understand my son better than my daughter. She will not let me in, I try not to take it personally, but it’s hard to do. My daughter, at this age, basically lets her best friends in, they are her life and it’s perfectly age appropriate; family is just making cheese sauce for her pasta or driving her to the mall so she can be with her aforementioned best friends.

I feel hurt and angry and very, very tired. If only once in a while I would get a genuine sign of affection or gratitude or heaven please help me, both, it would make me feel happy, no ecstatic.  My goal is this: tomorrow I will go to the library and get the book I reserved aptly called ” Get Out of My Life but first can you drive me and Cheryl to the mall?”  Maybe I will get some answers, at the very least, I think I will be getting support and explanations.  That alone, is a very good, first, small step.

Pop Cop: Tiger Woods, Rehab. Really ?

I thought I could do it; I thought I could ignore the whole Tiger Woods story and not blog about it. I didn’t want to add to all the misguided attention this jerk was getting, but I just couldn’t do it.  I didn’t write until now but the blog welled up inside me, finally exploded and practically wrote itself. You would think I’d be a better person than this and could let things slide, turn the other cheek, forgive and forget, but obviously I can’t and I deeply apologize for that.

Oh, Tiger, WE THOUGHT WE KNEW YE. We knew bupkes, nothing, nada. We heard, and I swear I am NOT using the word allegedly this time, that you (hmm, time to think about nicer words to use than what I am thinking) umm, copulated your way through the United States and all International time zones constantly and for many years.  People marveled at your golfing skills and I am not here to criticize your fabulous putts, shots and driving ranges. But, when you are putting and driving your shots into ranges other than your wife’s?  I have something to say.

I think I could forgive an affair, people make mistakes;  even a one night stand  (I am TRYING to be open-minded) but what you did was purely and utterly disgusting, truly you are an old fashioned pig.  Fame. Using your money, power and status for your own selfish greed, hurting loved ones.   I don’t see the beautiful Oprah doing that or Ellen Degeneres (my new heroine).  Apparently, when celebrities abuse substances, spouses and sex,  they have an addiction problem.   Excuse my language but “addiction, my ass.” Does anyone remember the word, Cheater? Philanderer? Scumbag?  It is not a new concept but apparently it is only used for “regular” people and not “so-called-stars.”Big money and cocky star status will buy you that excuse called “addiction.”   You think you are entitled because of your celebrity status, but really,  you are not.  The women you “played with” were in it willingly, I know. But, just like there are rules in a golf game, there are rules in marriage. You fail.

I love sweet things, soft sugar cookies with green sprinkles on top, a glazed raspberry jelly doughnut, rich milk chocolate, honey-laden baklava,  maple creme cookies…  This does not, however, give me the excuse to rob various bakeries and when caught, say via a PR person “I  have a sugar addiction.” Actually, I really have to try to NOT be a sugar addict or a food addict, it isn’t easy, believe me. If  I eat one jelly doughnut one night, I give it UP the next night and I try as hard as I can. Tiger Woods didn’t try, he got caught, he had celebrity status and big money; he morphed into a sex addict.  How convenient!

You made mistakes; a boat load,  a cruise ship line full of mistakes.  You still want your stardom, celebrity status, forgiveness  and your wife and children too. So far Elin Wood has been the first woman, and I thank her deeply, not to stand by her man, at least not in the beginning. She made a statement and I applaud her.  If she forgives you and you promise to be a good boy, if I were her I would still require you to have a chip implanted in your “VEPEEPEE” to keep track of you. Seriously.

Children are important!  Kids need a family and I, for one, am all for protecting the children and the family.  Work it out if you can. But don’t ever think that people will think of you the same way, they won’t. Maybe you will be a star again, a golf star,  people can be very forgiving. This time, however, another mistake will not get you the recovering sex addict get- out- of- jail- card.  Redeem yourself if you can and to put it in easily understandable albeit crude terms:  keep it zipped, no matter what.