Mary Jo and V (I’ll refer to you as V unless you got fierce objection, okie dokey?) is on a lovely holiday – though Mary Jo will claim it’s for work, duh-doi – in Japan and Sydney. So this page is stuck with me for the moment. Wait until the ladies are back to see a piece or two of journals about both places.
So I was bitching about how I hate Summer to Mary Jo the other day (Summer is the girl from the movie 500 Days of Summer, if you haven’t watched, get your ass up and watch it. Rent it, steal it, download it, or buy the DVD or whatever I don’t care). To my amazement, with her shrewd comment Mary Jo declared declared how the boy, Tom, was somehow the culprit. I couldn’t think of a clever rejoinder to that, for I thought about it a few seconds and found that perhaps it was so.
Here’s a little of the backstory (Spoiler Alert).
There’s this boy who meets this girl. Boy falls in love, girl doesn’t. But they do like each other and do things no normal friends would do together. Girl doesn’t want to “put any label on it”, while boy just wants some consistency. She ends up breaking his heart, but gets married not long after their “break-up”.
I watched the movie four times to date, as I was dazed by how cool it is as a movie. But more than that, perhaps I was caught in Summer’s realm. I was always the one who stood by the boy. As I watched and re-watched, I came upon the same conclusion that whatever Summer did was utter nonsense and blatantly selfish. So screw you Summer, for not seeing what could have been and missing something that could be great. I hate you.
But not until that sharp remark by Mary Jo did I realize something from a different perspective. I thought it was cool initially, him being all-in without seeming too obsequious to the relationship. But it is ostensible that Tom is perhaps just another self-centered hopeless romantic dude. Which is, in a way, pathetic.
If not for Joseph Gordon-Levitt’s winsome appearance, many girls will surely wind up despising Tom. As for me, I feel sorry for Tom. Not in a positive way but in a pitiful way. You might say, it’s just a movie character, but in a profound way it got to me. Probably I just feel sorry for myself.
But you know, as always, having had something you hold on to for some time, letting it go has never been an easy process. I still hate Summer. And you too. Bitch.
vodka, with four olives.