I have recently come to a realization: sad, desperate, humiliating, and surreal.
On a Friday night, my lifestyle is not at all what I would have ever dreamed as a little girl. Case in point, last Friday night by 9:00pm or 9:30pm, I put the girls to bed...they get to stay up late since it is not a school night. I then sat in front of the entertainment amoire and peered at the DVDs I had to choose from to serve as the highlight of my "everybody's waitin' for the weekend" Friday night. The phone rang, so I probed my caller, my baby sister, for assistance in choosing...a mission she was not at the moment so inclined to accept.
After chatting shortly with Amy of subjects unrelated to my current plight, I returned to the daunting amoire, continuing to stare blankly at the ample selection available for my viewing pleasure. After much consideration, I went with the most cathartic selection....Gladiator. (Cathartic how, you ask? There is valor, inspiring me to rise up to my potential, to inspire and encourage me; there is head chopping, show stopping sword fights to empower me to overcome all that which stands in my way to success; there is the impressive theme of undying, heartbreaking, snot on the singed foot of a dead wife L-O-V-E, this, of course, serves only to depress me; and then there is the release from bondage; Maximus is released by death to be reunited with wife and child, as his Gladiator comrades are released from their slavery to return to their prospective loved ones...the everlasting return to family, to home....this theme, the most cathartic of all, allows me to cry myself into a puffy, unrecognizable state. Oh, man - the power of this movie....Do I think I will see it again? I think so, but not yet....not yet....)
Well, as random minds will, I've seemed to have strayed a little off course! To return to my Friday night epiphany I was mentioning before being so completely distracted by the Ridley Scott/Russell Crowe masterpiece which will surely remain a classic many, many years from now....It is Friday night...girls are in bed...I have changed into "something more comfortable" (if you know what I mean, wink, wink.....You know the oversized t-shirt with paint stains and the plaid, flannel pajama pants) Anyway, I then am perplexed as to which comfort food should accompany my chosen film. I first cleanse my palette with a swig of 2% milk from the jug, then thoughtfully peruse the contents of my freezer....there it is! It is actually not a difficult decision; only one frostbitten food could possibly live-up to the greatness of the evening planned...the frozen burrito. I nuke the delectable pouch of beef and bean, place it on the finest dish I own, fill my nicest wine goblet to the brim with Diet Dr. Pepper and settle in on the sofa for what will surely be an evening of what dreams are made of....this is about when it hits me....I am alone on a Friday night wearing the nastiest clothes known to mankind, eating the nastiest form of beef and beans on the planet, sipping a mystery of a beverage known as diet soda, I weigh roughly a metric ton, and have the highlight of the evening centered around blood and tears.
Ouch! Reality bites! No amount of fine bone china or stemware can change the current situation that is my life. So, the only conclusion I can possibly muster...I must try, next Friday, pate on paper plates. Any suggestions on the appropriate movie and beverage?
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