I guess I can tell you what I did today, which would have to begin with slight history of myself. So, I believe that I am the only Jodi Picoult worshipper that I've ever met. I've read all but six of her books. Naturally, I was anticipating the cinematic release of My Sister's Keeper. I made my way to my favorite "I'm-dating-myself-theater" which is the Loews Lincoln Center. I purchased a ticket for a 4:15 showing. But before I dashed myself over to Chipotle, my not-so-secret guilty pleasure. I ordered my usual and scarfed it down like the professional fat kid I truly am. Anyway, I went to the theater and sat a close to the front as possible, so just in case I started to cry, nobody would see me. The movie began and within the first 7 to 13 minutes, I was HYSTERICAL. And that lasted all the way until the end of the movie. Which totally pissed me off.
Jodi is like the Vera Wang of novelists. You don't alter her to fit your screenplay, you alter your screenplay to tell her stories thoroughly. If Lifetime can make accurate, true-to-book adaptations of her books, I firmly believe a major motion picture company should be able to do the same. ***SPOILER ALERT*** The book, My Sister's Keeper ends with Anna (played by Abigail Breslin), the genetically engineered sister, being brain dead after being in a car accident. When she arrives at the hospital, her superbitch mother Sara (played by Cameron Diaz) decides to take her off of life support and donates Anna's kidneys, that she didn't want to donate in the first place, to Kate--the sick sister. In the movie, Kate dies. That's it just dies. When I was reading it, I was so emotional, and I was looking forward to bawling at the end. Instead I left the theater absolutely disappointed in the movie, ad feeling like my last two hours of tears were all in vain.
Nonetheless, I made way to the exit to find an absolute MONSOON outside. Of course, because it is never my fate to have nice things, I didn't have anything to protect myself from the rain. I was cold, and soaking wet for my entire ride home. As per usual, when I'm feeling a hot mess and/or looking like one as well, I rush to get home. No sooner than I get 40 feet away from my building and safety, do I see the one guy in my neighborhood who I've been crushing on for all of SEVEN years, and in my what seemed to be clever attempt to dash out of his eyesight, do I hydroplane....yes hydroplane...yes on foot, and fall on my ass.
Plus, I ate Chipotle today, which means I fell off of my diet wagon and died of ruebella. Seeing as I just purchased a very nice scale from IKEA, one would think that would motivate me...WRONG.
