Fathers in Film: My Fantasy?

Sorta a Dads in Media follow up.

Two days ago, my friend and I were walking around Target, when we got on the conversation of Jack Black. She mentioned his role in The Holiday, so I had to ask,
Me: Who would you have preferred, Jude Law's character, or Jack Black's character?
Her: Oh, Jack Black's, definitely!
Me: Good, me too!
Her: Jude Law's character really did nothing for me. Well, except when he was with his daughters. That was kind of appealing.
Me: Yeah, but even with that, I definitely would have picked Jack Black over him.
Her: So, what movie character would you most want to be with?

Hmm, this was a tough question. I started thinking through my favorite movies, especially romantic movies. Lloyd Dobbler from Say Anything first came to mind, and as much as I love that fillm, I would never ever want that relationship. Then I thought of Glen Hansard's character from Once, but once again, I felt no strong draw toward him. All these young, romantic guys, but none of them seemed to have much depth or maturity to make me actually want to be in a relationship with them. After two strikes, I had an answer.

Me: Maybe Steve Carrell's character from Dan in Real Life?
Her: Really? I could see that.
Me: Yeah, he's funny and romantic, but he's also a great father and really loves his family.

I began thinking through more of my favorite movies . . .

Me: And maybe Mel Gibson's character from Signs, but at the end of the movie, not before then.
Her: Huh, interesting that you picked two fathers. Is your biological clock ticking?
Me: Haha, no, I don't think so. It's just that when I think of younger men from movies I like, none of them seem to have much depth or maturity. These characters are mature*, and have depth, and life experience, and because they're fathers and love their children, you know that they're responsible and capable of being in a loving, committed relationship.
Her: True, you're right. Even Ewan McGregor's character from Moulin Rouge, he's so great, but I wouldn't actually want to be in a relationship with him. He'd be too emotional for me.

Interesting that both these characters I mentioned were widows, and even the one aspect of Jude Law's character that we liked was him being a widowed father. I saw The Holiday in the dollar theatre with this same friend, and I remember the scene where Cameron Diaz discovers about his children, she asks, "Divorced?" He replied, "Widowed," and my friend immediately said, "That's hot!"

It's interesting that whenever Hollywood portrays a father as a romantic lead, he's almost always widowed, not divorced. Can you think of any divorced fathers as romantic characters? Harry from When Harry Met Sally was divorced, but had no children. This probably isn't true to our society, there are probably many more divorced fathers than widowed fathers, but perhaps widowed fathers are more likely to actually be raising their children, whereas in most divorces, mom has the custody. But I think it's more than that, I don't think Hollywood likes the idea of divorced parents with children as romantic leads. There's just too much baggage, the heroine would have to worry about the ex-wife and the kids' mom, just make the mom dead, and all is fair game! Don't worry about whether or not the father and his children have resolved their grief, she's not in the picture, he's a safe and appealing romantic lead. When I try to think of a movie about a divorced dad, I first think of Robin Williams in Mrs. Doubtfire, but I don't think he had any romance in the film. Let's face it, widowers hot, divorcees not.

Still, it's interesting to me that the most appealing men in cinema are fathers. Sure, almost every film has some sort of attractive male lead with desirable qualities. But despite how attractive they may be to me, these young, single men always have some deadly flaw: they're too cocky, too emotional, too needy, too scared, too immature etc. But add some children to that hollywood picture, and those flaws are instantly balanced with responsibility, love, trust, and (gasp!) maturity. Even the most noble and heroic men in film (Wesley from the Princess Bride, Aragon from LOTR, etc), exist in worlds so different from my own, while I can easily fantasize about being Buttercup or Arwen (I actually do fantasize about being Arwen, but for spiritual, not romantic reasons), I just can't imagine one of these men here in my world, with me. Seriously, what would Aragon be to me here in College Station, TX? He wouldn't be the rightful king, saving hobbits, racing his horse, wielding his sword. Seriously, what would he be doing? Would he be in the Corps? Heaven help me, please no! Anything that was appealing about him is completely lost in translation.

Same goes with action heroes. Does any girl really have an actual crush on James Bond? Action heroes are made to fulfill men's fantasies, not women's. Though I have to admit, Indiana Jones wouldn't make such a bad partner. Were Indy just a whip wielding treasure hunter adventurer, he wouldn't hold much appeal for me. But no, Indy is also Dr. Jones, the professor. So there we go, my desire for adventure, danger, confidence, excitement, fun, humor, romance, and sex appeal, balanced with intelligence, a little nerdiness, depth, responsibility, making a difference in other's lives, etc. I'm feeling pretty good about this choice, especially if Dr. Jones brought his whip to the honeymoon ;)



*Thinking about it now, I'm not sure that all of Steve Carrell's actions in Dan in Real Life could be described as "mature," though he was a pretty swell father and a loving man.

a room of one's own

The title of Virginia Woolf's famous essay, which according to Wikipedia means "any author's need for poetic license and the personal liberty to create art." For me, it means personal liberty, having a space (concretely or abstractly) that is truly one's own and no one else's.

I'm trying to find that here in College Station. Motivated by loneliness and a need for connection, I've spent a lot of energy pursuing community and relationships with others. I'm still pursuing these things, but lately, I've had an urge for personal freedom, and for creating my own world here. There's something really freeing about doing something purely because I want to, not because someone invited me, not because I was asked to do it, not because I'm hoping to impress someone, but simply because I chose to do it. I'm such a social creature that I don't have a lot of these things. When I describe how I spend my time, it all revolves around people. Sure, I have hobbies and interests in music, movies, theatre, art, traveling, but most of how I choose to spend my time revolves around other people. It's not a bad thing and I don't resent that. I love people, so I'll take any excuse to be around people I enjoy!

Every Saturday at 5, at a park in a low SES section of Bryan, there's a group of students who host a potluck for the people in that community, some of whom are homeless, and most of whom are in poverty. Since I heard about it back in January, I'd been wanting to go, and about a month ago, I attended it with my church small group. I went to it again, without my small group, this past Saturday. No one invited me, no one was expecting me, I just wanted to go. I had decided to go early on in the week, but when the actual day arrived, I was tempted to skip. I had slept in, and hadn't started on my paper due Monday, but I'd already bought groceries to cook. The idea popped into my head that maybe I should cook the food and deliver it to someone's house who I know is going, but stay home and work on my paper. But I couldn't do that. I had other motivations for going, to connect with people who are different from me, to serve, to build God's kingdom, to be loving and giving. But my tenacity in going really came down to the fact that this was the only thing all week, or all week perhaps, that I had purely chosen to participate in. Everything else I did this last weekend was because a professor had asked me to do it or a friend had invited me to do it. Sure, I still had a choice in those matters, but going to this potluck with the one thing that I had made up my mind to do by myself, without being asked. And there was no way I could give up that kind of freedom and empowerment!

So, with school being less demanding, and me being single and not tightly connected to group of friends, I definitely have the freedom to pursue things that I enjoy and that are important to me. Looking back on my time with Andrew, I realized that pretty much the entire time we were together, almost everything we did were things that he wanted to do. This wasn't a bad thing, this wasn't any weakness of mine, or me conforming and changing myself to a guy. It was simply the circumstances - Andrew had a set group of friends, and I didn't. He's lived here longer and knows the things he likes to do, and I'm new here and haven't quite figured out what I like to do around here. Like I said, it wasn't bad, I don't regret that aspect of our relationship, but when I date, I'm used to having a life other than the guy. I'm used to and prefer bringing him into my life while he brings me into his, instead of just me joining his life because I don't yet have a life of my own. Maybe I'm exaggerating a little. It probably wasn't that way 100% of the time, but it definitely was the majority of the time and that definitely was the trend that I see.

So, here's to freedom and finding my own life in Bryan/College Station! Here's to having a room of my own! When I'm not working, studying, writing, seeing clients, running errands, or doing household chores, there's lots that I want to be doing. I want to be asking people to meals, having friends over, hosting sleepovers, swimming in my friends' pool, inviting friends to movies and concerts, cooking for homeless people, cooking for myself, biking, drinking wine, drawing mandalas, going to yoga classes, going to prayer meetings, reading for fun, and whatever else comes to mind! And then maybe, the next dating experience I have, I can say, "Hmm, Saturday night. Well, I've got this potluck that I'll be going to from about 5-7. We could hang out afterwards, or you're welcome to join me." I'd be cool with that.

thirteen years

Cara told me this was good blog material. So, here goes.

Are you sitting down?

Do you have and food or drink in your mouth? Swallow quickly.

A few days ago, I turned 23. Yesterday, I went out with a 36 year old.

Ok, catch your breath. If you did a spit take with your drink, it's your own fault. I told you to swallow.

Yes, I turned 23, and suddenly I'm thrust into the adult dating world. The world where men can ask you out at restaurants, and 23 year olds and 36 year olds can be peers (sorta). 23 no longer sounds like a college student. Sure, there are 23 year olds still finishing college, but there are a lot more 22 year olds in college. And yes, I'm still in school, but it's different. I have a degree, but I'm advancing my education further and doing something that few do. Since we've graduated college, three of my friends have started men born in the 70's: 29, 31, and 34 are the ages of their boyfriends.

So, back to this dude (man?). Let's see, when he was graduating high school, I was starting kindergarten. When he was my age, he was living in Greece, modeling, and I was ten, and had never flown on a plane yet. His oldest niece is 25. He said he normally wouldn't "go after" 23 year olds, but he was attracted to me before he knew my age, and when he knew my age, he said, "You don't sound or act like a 23 year old." And let's face it, he doesn't look, sound, or act like a 36 year old. When he asked, "How old do you think I am?" I realized that he was older than he looked. When I saw him outside in the sunlight, I noticed the few gray strands peppering his red hair and a few laugh line wrinkles around his eyes that I hadn't noticed when I'd first met him in the dark restaurant.

So, how did I come to meet this dude in the first place? Back up three months ago. I was at a restaurant, with my mother, stepfather, and step grandparents, celebrating my mother's birthday party. Around dessert, the waitress comes to me and says, "Hey, the man sitting at that table over there wants to ask you out." What?!? I looked over and see an attractive man waving at me. The waitress continues, "He's a great guy, I know him, he works here. " So, with the permission of my family, I went over and talked to him. He was dining with a friend. We all introduced ourselves, and the question of my age quickly came up. His friend had thought that I was young, 17 or 18, but he had noticed the margarita I was drinking and thought my young looking mother to be my coworker. His friend felt uncomfortable, "like the chaperone," and left us to chat about ourselves. I explained that I don't live here any more, that I was only in town for the weekend, but I was very flattered by his approach. He asked when I was returning, and I told him in about a month for spring break. "Ok, how about this?" he explained, "I'll tell you my email address, it's very easy to remember, and if you like, when you're in town again, I'll take you out. I'll take you out to dinner somewhere." The whole experience was very strange. I've never been asked out my a stranger, and certainly never when I was with my mother!

And what possessed me three months later to call his restaurant after unsuccessfully emailing him? A little bit of breakup blues desperation, and a lot of curiosity. Seriously, if he could take the risk to ask me out, couldn't I take the risk to let him take me out? At the very least, it could just be a fun time and good story. So, I suggested we meet for coffee at a nice shopping center, and we spent about three hours, drinking coffee, talking, telling stories, browsing shops, and eating cheese fries.

So, what of the date? It was fun. Did we have a good time together? Yes. Did we click? Not entirely. Were there fireworks and butterflies in my stomach? No. Is he someone I could see myself in a relationship with? No. Is he someone I'd see again? Perhaps. As it turns out, he's suffering from post breakup blues himself. About nine months ago, he moved here from Austin after a bad breakup, and I'm the first person he's asked out since then and this was his first date-type experience since then. Kinda flattering. He told me, "I'm just easing back into the dating thing. So, I'm pretty safe!" He seemed interested in hanging out again, when I mentioned liking plays, his response was, "We'll have to go to one sometime." And at the end of our time together, he told me to text him whenever I was in town. Maybe I will, maybe I won't. As long as he doesn't want to get serious, it might be nice to go to plays and such with an interesting, attractive man every once in a while. Or not. Maybe I'll always be busy with friends and family whenever I'm in town, that I won't want to bothers with hanging out with someone who I'm not seriously interested in.

Whatever the case, I'm glad I took the risk and had a good experience.

belonging

Happy April Fool's Day! March has past, and I only wrote one blog entry that entire month. I guess spring break was pretty busy, and then things have stayed busy since I've been back at school. I'd like to write about what's been on my mind a lot, the ministry my church is starting with women at a strip club, me looking to buy a house and all of the uncertainty and excitement that goes along with that, my romantic relationship and how that's going, and all the things that my pastor is preaching about dating and what I'm learning through all of this.

But the truth is, I could probably start a post about one of those topics, and wouldn't finish it today. Maybe I'd finish it tomorrow, or maybe it would sit as a draft for weeks and those weeks would turn into months and suddenly it wouldn't seem relevant to post at all. Looking today, I have 6 posts drafts just from the past 4 months. 6 posts that were started, never completed, and all but abandoned. Maybe instead of starting something entirely new, I should resurrect these posts from the past few months. I've chosen the most complete one to breath some life into. It was written January 25th, 2008. This was just a couple of weeks into this spring semester. Here it is:



Belonging

A couple of days ago, I wanted to write about how I was feeling more at home here, and how good that's been. But since then, I've found some more loneliness creeping in. I'll give writing about good things a shot, and maybe I can recapture how I felt two days ago.

When I came to TCU as a freshmen, I dove in headfirst, meeting people, getting involved in organizations, even serving as a welcome-type person for one organization! In some ways I was your typical college freshmen, eager to do anything and everything. In other ways, I was atypical. I was confident in my eagerness, confident that I belonged here and would feel at home, confident that I could hang out with seniors and be accepted. I think because of this confidence, I was frequently mistaken for an upperclassman. I don't really remember feeling insecure that first semester. Another freshmen that year (who is know one of my closest friends) later told me that she was intimidated by me when we first met. "Wow," she thought, "This girl already knows so many people and has so many friends, why would she ever want to be my friend?" Fortunately, her assumption was wrong. Sometime halfway through that semester I realized that despite all the activities I was involved in, despite all of the people I had to hang out with, I didn't have a close friend. Realizing that I was missing this and that the seniors I had been hanging out with would soon be graduating, I started praying for a close friend that I could spend college with. God soon answered that prayer, and that girl who had first been intimidated by me became the friend that I can't imagine spending college without. My second year, I developed close friendships with other young women who I still try to remain close to.

In addition to these close friendships, I also valued all of my other friends and acquaintances at TCU. I've never been one to put myself in a bubble, and I knew lots of people on that small campus, and lots of people knew me. Walking from my dorm to class, I'd probably say "Hi" to at least 5 or 6 people I passed that I knew. One friend walking with me one day was really surprised by this, "Dang!" he exclaimed, "You know everybody here!" For my first three years especially, I loved this atmosphere. I felt right at home and felt a deep sense of belonging to this campus. Perhaps I'm idealizing this time, because I do remember individuals and groups of people that I wanted to feel more at home with, and that I wanted to get to know better, but never did. I did experience rejection during that time, and it hurt, but I always I had friends to fall back on and I never felt like I didn't belong.

When I first arrived at this new campus, with over 45,000 students, I doubted that I ever feel that same sense of belonging. The first few weeks were very strange, walking to work and class from my parking lot and only being met by strange faces. Finally, I'd arrive at work and be greeted by a familiar face. I would often think that I saw someone from TCU. Not close friends, just once of those acquaintances that I always enjoyed saying "Hello," to. On this campus, strangers often say, "Howdy," to one another when they make eye contact. At first I timidly responded if I responded at all, but now I respond with a smile and an enthusiastic, "Howdy!" or "Hello!" It's not the same as seeing a familiar friend, but just making a brief connection with another human is satisfying.



That was January 25th, this is April 1st. I was beginning to feel hopeful, beginning to feel like I could connect with others in this new place, beginning to feel at home. At that point, my friends from church, Travis and Amanda, and just started to invite me to hang out with them more, something they hadn't done at all last semester. I was beginning to feel more included, and meeting more people through my church. January 25th was the night of Travis' birthday party, when I first connected with Andrew, and saw a lot of life in him and wanted to get to know him better. Since that time, we've started dating, I've hung out a lot more with church friends and made lots of friends, mostly through Andrew, but I've also deepened relationships with people in my small group, gotten involved in a ministries that have led to more connection with women in my church, and have gotten to know more 2nd and 3rd years in my program better. Overall, I feel much more myself, much more comfortable, and feel like I belong both in my program and in my church. Even on campus, I see more familiar faces. Last week, there was one day when I saw three people I knew. Three people! This was huge, because usually it was exciting if I saw one person on campus that I knew. And to see three people, at different times, wow!

I'm feeling more at home here, and this is a really good thing. Still though, I spent a lot of Christmas break praying for a good Christian girl friend here. And, surprise! I got Andrew, which is great and wonderful and every day I'm thankful for what we have, but where's that girl friend I was praying for? I've met lots of girls through church, and couple of them I felt like I could really connect with, and maybe something more will happen with one of those friendships. It really does take time. I guess I could be more proactive, ask some of these girls to hang out instead of just waiting to see them at church events. I'm pretty proactive with spending time with families in my small group. Why is it easier to invite myself over to a family's house for dinner than to invite a girl to coffee or lunch? Maybe I'm used to friendships happening more naturally. Maybe I'm slightly prideful and want them to be asking me to do things. Maybe I'm complacent and stay busy and forget that I could use another person in my life. Part of me wonders if I need to a find a good close girlfriend here. I have Andrew, though I've never been one to substitute a boyfriend for friends. I do have lots of friends to hang out with, I'm never bored on the weekends, I have adults that I can turn to for good advice, and I keep in touch with a few of my close girl friends from back home and still turn to them and they rely on me too. Some of these close friends are going to come visit me over the summer, which will be awesome. Who knows. Maybe in three months I'll look back on this post and write a post that begins something like this:

"That was April 1st, this is July 1st. Back then, I felt like I was missing having a good girl friend, now I feel . . . "

heartache calls again, dressed in a new suit

I can't remember, but I think it was Cara who said that this whole graduate school application process should be like a dating relationship. Maybe it was Britt or Laura, but whomever said it, I think it was an appropriate metaphor, which I will employ shamelessly in this post. I've put myself out there for several schools, dressed up my assets, in hopes that I can entice them into accepting me. At the same time, as I interview with them, it should go two ways. As they're evaluating me, they should also be wooing me into their program.

Like any dating relationship, rejection is inevitable. I knew it was coming; I just didn't expect it so soon. A couple of weeks ago, a school called me for my first phone interview. You see, this was so early it seemed like really good sign. My undergraduate professors encouraged me that things were looking good. You see, he, this school, was one of my top choices. The moment I went to his website, I felt enticed and excited about being with him. When he called, we seemed to hit it off. I couldn't keep my heart out of it. I started imaging my life with him, even looking up apartments in that town. I knew this was premature, I knew even if he invited me to come see him, there was no guarantee that he would choose me. I awaited his invitation, only to be met with silence. He said he would probably call next Monday, but nothing. (Good Lord, this is all too familiar) Two weeks passed, and I knew that in this case, no news was bad news.

Finally, this morning I emailed the professor I had talked with, to find out my status. The professor promptly replied, informing me that I hadn't made the short list to be invited to the Open House/Interview. While they weren't closing my file and there was a still a possibility of being interviewed, the chances were slim as ten times the number of slots available had applied. My fears were true. I didn't realize how much this school meant to me until I began to feel that I wouldn't be invited. The thought of losing it as a possibility made me want to cling onto it.

Like any heart that's aching, you still hope and dream for the impossible. Maybe that knock on the door is him, returning to you. Maybe the phone will ring, and his name will appear on the screen. Maybe you will bump into one another, in the grocery store, at a friend's wedding, and he will remember what he's missing. But that never happens. This afternoon on my break at work, I saw that I had a call from an unknown number and a message. My heart briefly soared. Maybe, just maybe, I would listen to the message and hear that professors voice, "We made a mistake, we look at your application again, we do want to invite you to come visit!" But instead, I was greeted by my dad's voice, updating me on news from cousins and uncles.

And like any rejection by a potential mate, you begin to wonder if you're still lovable. But as insecure as you may feel and as much as you doubt, you know not to believe lies like that. You know that you are worthy and lovable and that somewhere, is the right one for you. So, today, I will be sad, and maybe again tomorrow, but I will soon awake and look forward to other potential matches. Afterall, I do have a date with another potential in less than three weeks. Will it be magical? Will we be drawn to one another? Will this be it? It's hard to say, but still exciting nonetheless to await my suitors and hope and pray for the best.

It's amazing what a rollar coaster this application process has been and continues to be. One week, I'm stressed and worried that my applications won't make it in alright, and the next week I'm elated to receive two phone interviews. One day I'm relieved and joyous to turn in my final application, and the very next day I'm turned down by one of my top choices. I had no idea how emotional this would be. But I should have known. If it's not a boy, it's this, or a job, or a death, or a friendship, or a fight, or a trip abroad, or an illness, or a child. This is life. My one constant is my Creator and Savior who understands all of this and leads me, despite my fears and doubts and fickleness.

a half pound of breakfast blend

Tonight at Starbucks, we had a really attractive young man come in whom I was chatting with, and I managed to sell a half pound of coffee beans to him. My manager said she noticed us flirting, and I was really tempted to write my phone number on the coffee bag I gave him. I didn't, because I don't like to be forward with guys. Sometimes I am a little too forward, but I've never been that forward before. But after he left, I was really kicking myself for not doing so. I mean, why not live a little? I'd never see him again probably, so why not? What's the harm? But I'd much rather have a guy pursue me than me have to put myself out there like that.

Ladies? Fellas? What do you think? Should a girl help a guy out who might be interested in her? Write the phone number down, or not?

Then, after we locked the doors and were closing, something even stranger happened. The entire front of the store started shaking and the lights started flickering! It was so freaky! My manager and stared at each other, as I asked, "What the heck is going on?" It lasted for about 30 seconds, then stopped. Another partner was in the back, but he didn't notice any shaking. I told them I felt like there was a spaceship hovering overhead, like we were in an X-Files episode. My manager agreed.

What a night!