I know, three in one day is bad

Yep, I'm back. I have been by myself WAY too much today. I realized that the reason I didn't feel like blogging over the summer was because I was never by myself. Now that I am by myself I just need to talk to someone!!! The blogosphere seems appropriate enough.

So after thoroughly poisoning my body with more caffeine than it is now used to, I sent myself into a semi-shock state and went to lie down and try to read. After sleep, read I did. I am starting the new Twilight series book, "Breaking Dawn," but when I found myself getting too into the book, I decided to get out of my room (I've worked on this quite a bit today) and go watch a movie. So I went to our TV room and put in Vanity Fair.

I remember watching Vanity Fair before. I love the costumes, it's a funny story. I remember something bothered me about it, but I couldn't remember what. Well, now that I finished it I remember what that was. I can't believe it's affected me as much as it has, but I'm seriously sick to my stomach. In the movie there is a girl named Becky, who is a social-climber in the early 1800s. (STOP here if you don't want me to spoil the ending) She's funny, very sharp (hence her name, Becky Sharp), and very beautiful. Lucky for her, instead of having to just anyone, she elopes with her one true love. He's incredibly handsome (in fact, I need to look that actor up...ah, James Purefoy), very daring, and he gambles on marrying Becky because oddly enough, and very luckily for her, he is very much in love with her. He adores her, puts up with her grasping and climbing, and somehow still manages to love her. Basically why I hate this movie comes down to one thing: Becky doesn't appreciate his love. She knows she's got it and it's not like she just takes advantage of it (which she kindof does), but she completely disregards him, despite how much she loves him and despite how much he loves her. That's the sucky part of the movie. They don't end up together. She doesn't realize it until she's screwed it up and instead of fixing it, she continues to social-climb and he dies alone of jungle fever. I hate it!

I don't know why it bothers me so much, but it does. What a dim-wit. I hate her for abusing such a wonderful, doting husband. I suppose I'm supposed to see that he should have done something or that I'm supposed to be happy in the end because the really good people end up with really good things. But I can't. Books and movies are supposed to be redeeming.

Now I'm all riled up, and I don't want to read any more of my book because then I won't be able to stop or I'll get more mad about that story.

Sheesh, darn Thackeray...I just want to sleep, not be angry.

Related Items