I just got through watching the movie Story of Us with Bruce Willis. My Mom and I watched it together. Dangerous combination.

For those of you who have seen the movie, I really identified with Bruce Willis' character. Mom identified with the wife. Heh. Figures.

I thought Michelle Pfifer (or however she spells her name)'s character was far too naggy. She was too uptight and preoccupied with planning everything out. I have nothing against planning something, but please...

*laughs quietly* So, while Mom and I talked about it after the movie, my comment was that it is vitally important to know what is really truth; to be honest with yourself about what you really want.

At the end of the movie, Michelle's character is truly and completely honest, amid tears and fear and pain and all that. She lets it all out, all the fear and apprehension. And when it's all said and done, we discover that she doesn't actually want the divorce after all.

I believe that Bruce Willis' character had some growing up to do... Not necessarily growing up, but definitely he needed to take on just a little more responsibility. However, Michelle's character really needed to back off.

Heh.

And this is the problem. Most of the women I know of, side with Michelle's character. I side with Bruce Willis' character. Obviously.

And what does this mean to us?

I probably need to take on a little more responsibility. Heh.

I'm reminded of the time when Duncan and I were just freshly married. We had gone to a church event and were staying at the home of some friends of mine.

While we were there, the waterbed we were sleeping in split along the seam. (No, nothing kinky, trust me) And there was, of course, water everywhere.

So, what do we do? Duncan panics. We bring in the garden hose and set up a syphon to get the excess water out of the bed liner.

As the water is draining, albeit slowly, Duncan is pacing and muttering and all panicky. I'm sitting on the back deck, smoking a cigarrette and reading a book. He was pissed to all hell that I wasn't nervous about it.

I asked him what he wanted me to do. He was nervous and flighty and sputtering then he growled at me. "How can you be so fucking calm?"

*laughs hard* I looked him right in the eyes, took a drag from my smoke, exhaled and said, "Well, you're nervous enough for both of us. I don't have to be."

That was obviously the wrong thing to say as he went balistic. After he'd calmed down just a little, I looked at him and asked him what I could possibly do. The bed was draining, the worst of the water problem was being taken care of, we just had to wait for the rest of the water to drain. What should I do that would accomplish anything?

He didn't have an answer for me. So, I told him to quit worrying about it and sit back, light up a cigarrette and wait for the rest of the water to finish draining out.

Heh.

He wasn't able to actually sit down. He kept pacing and fuming and grumbling and checking on the water level every few minutes.

Personally, I thought it was funny. After all, how many people would ever believe that newly-weds hadn't broken the waterbed in some kinky sex thing? Trust me, even if there were a video tape of the whole event, people would not believe there wasn't something kinky going on.

Why worry? What would worrying accomplish? Nada. Nothing. Zero. Zip. Zilch.

Eh... So I figure, if you really want something to bitch and whine and complain about, do so about something you can change. And then, shut up and change it. If your efforts, your actual physical efforts can't change the outcome, then quit your bitchin and deal with what happens. Understand that even a couple weeks after the fact, it'll just be something else you laugh about.

Dunno if that's a "male" perspective on life or if I'm just not as concerned with the long run effects. *shrugs* I've never been all that worried about what I couldn't change. And, what's more, I generally put those things I can't change, out of my mind. Completely. Heh.

This, of course, completely throws my mother out of whack. My mother doesn't like surprises; in any way, shape or form. I like most surprises. AS long as the surprise isn't something like a sudden and impromptu jail term, I'm cool with it.

However... no yelling around me. None of that yelling stuff. That can be really dangerous!

Heh.

Anyway, I'm going to go think about something else now.

Toodles.