It seems to me that everyone has their own particular “type” of movie. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been drawn to artistic historical movies. It’s probably a result of my fascination with the classic stories such as “Wuthering Heights,” “Jane Eyre,” and anything by Jane Austen. Most of these adaptations come to the screen with rich clothes, hauntingly beautiful settings and corset-wearing actors with British accents.
I understand that these are not for everyone. If I rented what my parents dubbed “A Brooke Movie,” I would usually find a time when nobody was home to hijack the tv and indulge in solitude.
I like to tease Army Boy that he’ll be content with a movie as long as it contains guns, explosions and one tough dude in sunglasses. He knows I’m right.
Last night, I took advantage of his dentist appointment to pop in “The Young Victoria,” which I’ve been DYING to see since hearing about it. British Royal Family History? Incredible period clothing? Palaces? EMILY BLUNT?! While I know that Army Boy will indulge me with the occasional romantic comedy, I’m not sure he’s ready for restrained Victorian embraces and courtly dancing.
I cuddled up on the couch with some fresh salsa and my pjs, and it was everything I hoped. If you haven’t seen it, you probably should pronto. BFF Katie called while I was watching, and understanding my priorities perfectly, said “Dude. Hang up and go watch that movie.”
Army Boy came home when I still had a good portion of the film to finish, and sat down next to me to work on the photobook he’s compiling of his time in Iraq. Typically while watching a movie, we’ll exchange banter during certain slow points, and probably thinking that “THIS WHOLE MOVIE IS SLOW,” he started cracking jokes right away.
“Listen you,” I paused the movie and looked at him sternly. “This is Me Time. You don’t have to enjoy it, but you have to watch quietly or go in the other room.”
He complied and didn’t even make fun of me when I cried like a baby at the end of the movie.
Is there anything in your home that you “compromise” on, whether with spouse or family? Or do you have certain areas of your life that are just designated as “me time,” and God help the poor sucker that intrudes?