Hollywood, limitations, and potential

I just watched this movie called Jersey Girl. When the love interest was first introduced, I thought: Hey, this is kinda cool. A very liberated girl who talks about how she masturbates twice a day. This movie could work.

But now that I've gotten to the end, I'd like those hours of my life back. Dear goddess.

I am so sick of the American Hollywood machine making movies designed to send the following messages:
-sacrificing your dreams for love is the right thing to do
-sacrificing your dreams for family is the right thing to do
-you should be happy with a life doing a crappy low class job

The way I see it, this movie was very carefully crafted to appeal to the poor schmucks whose life truly consists entirely of family and a truly crappy job, and to make them feel righteous and self-satisfied, and COMFORTED about how crappy their lives are. Like the way they carefully insert a religious statue on the front lawn of the house, but the people in the movie otherwise live a secular life. Like the way the man in the movie is able to live the small-town family life while scoring the younger hot chick who has liberated sexual morals. Like the way he is given positive life affirmation for choosing his child's whim over what is best, overall, for both of them in the long run -- and thus the viewers are able to feel good about themselves because the main character's happy ending resembles their lives.

***

And now for the devil's advocate portion of this post.

I've been arguing, often lately, that one of the tragedies of our society is that we are taught that we can achieve anything. I believe that we cannot. That we all have our limitations, our strengths and weaknesses, and that we must find a lifestyle and profession that works well within that scope.

That's not to say that anyone should be telling you what that scope is -- we don't understand intelligence enough to be able to assess this. But if we could, I'd like to believe that we would see a society in which people would know their potential, and feel no shame about the limitations. That we would no longer be driving ourselves to nervous breakdowns trying to achieve the impossible, and feeling shame for not achieving what our peers have.

So I wonder. Are my issues conflicting? Do I need to reconcile these viewpoints?

They may conflict. But I think part of my issue with movies like Jersey Girl is that I feel like they are produced by the upper class to lull the lower classes into complacency while the upper class takes all. The opiate of the masses, as they say.

It's not that I think that all people should aspire to more than what they do, nor that I think that all people who do manual labour should be dissatisfied with their lives. The character in Jersey Girl clearly can handle the job in question, and was one of the best. He loved his work. He had some trouble balancing his home life with his family life, but that's something he could learn to handle. And when his wife died leaving him with a newborn baby to care for, he cracked. But that's no reflection on his ultimate potential and limitations. Telling him to give up on his dreams and a better life because his little girl didn't want to change schools is dumb.

Update on my health

Six weeks FIVE weeks into Sickness Benefit. Hard to believe so much time has already passed.

So how AM I doing?

I can only give you points.

-Wolf called me Smiley the other day and said that he has seen me smile more in the last month than over the course of our entire relationship
-I still have down days -- balancing all the little things I'm trying to accomplish, sleep (oversleeping), and spending too much time indoors vs. getting the hell out of the house and not spending money...
-overall, I'd guess, though, that I'm having about 6 out of 7 days that are either even, or very very good. Bouncy, happy, smiling, giggly Danae.
-The last time I was this happy and relaxed for this long (about a month) was in October 2002. If I continue to be this happy throughout the Sickness Benefit, who knows. It may be a record.
-My libido has gone through the roof
-My mind has cleared and most of the time, I feel better able to think clearly, even relishing math for the sake of math (I integrated in my head the other day for fun. :)
-I've started writing poetry as a form of expression again
-I'm more in love with Wolf and Spryte than ever before
-the only consistent negative: my insomnia has gotten worse

Sickness Benefit, and not working, is not a cure. It's a band-aid. The disease -- whatever it is that makes me unable or less able to deal with stressful situations -- is still lurking there. I'm hoping over the remaining weeks that I can make some progress, some inroads, towards understanding these issues, and ultimately, towards fixing them.

A friend -- at least, I think he's a friend... I'm not really sure what he thinks of me or whether he really likes me -- once told me that he believes that I will always be discontent, that it is not in me to be happy or content.

He was wrong. I knew he was wrong, but what could I say to someone speaking one of my worst fears, the kind that you know is not real but nonetheless have nightmares about? Now I guess all I can say is I know the truth. I can know happiness. And it is wonderful.

I've got my dance shoes on...

...literally.

A dancesport enthusiast could hardly fail to notice that I live in an apartment with hardwood floors. *swoon*

Billy Elliot is on, and I thought about going into bed, but instead I strapped on my latin shoes and did a few steps around the living room.

My balance is not as impeccable as it used to be. Those gold syllabus steps might be a challenge. But I can totally practice on my own, here at home, revise on those syllabus steps. And I'll be getting extra exercise.

On a vaguely related note, I found this:
http://www.sacdancesport.com/about.html

HOT. Can I do them both?

I need a dancing icon, and I have just the right idea...

Edit
I'd forgotten how deeply touching this movie is. The combination of the fierce dreams of this boy, and the sociopolitical situation in his town and home, and the fierce love his father had for him... I could cry. I might still. But lastly, I'll go to bloody sleep!