Eat Pray Love

I don’t like making fun of people; I only like making fun of the characters they play. And the characters they play aren’t real so their feelings can’t be hurt except within the realm of the piece of work they are in. And we are not in the realm of eat pray love. Although it is based on real people and experiences…. Hhhmmm. I declare that as soon as memoirs and autobiographies are portrayed in a movie by actors, it is okay to make fun of those characters as comment on the delivery and not the people they portray. (makes sense right?)

Right, having said that, it gives me license to nominate and award blathering-idiot-scene-of-the-year to the roof top scene where Richard from Texas spills his guts to Liz about why he is in India. Personally, I think that scene should have been played straight. It should have been, I am here because blah blah blah. Instead, you have this build up and build up and build up and expect a really horrifying story because of the emotion put into the telling of it. But it turns out it isn’t. I was so irritated and annoyed because I too had invested in the scene only to be let down by a stupid almost moment.

I fought with this movie, I avoided the book because motivational books are just not my cup of tea. We all have our paths and one person’s beaten track may not necessarily be our own. So I fought and fought and won. I don’t like the movie. I don’t like its message, I have little in common with Liz and I don’t think I like her as a person (the character of her that is).

But the book did resonate with a lot of women and I can understand that. My ‘eat pray love’ moment (if I have one) is captured in an interview Oprah did with her:

"I had so given up on that. I mean, I was in Rome, I was in Italy where people are, like, making love on the sidewalks," she says. "And I just remember looking at them and thinking, 'This is not for you. You're going to have a different kind of life. Like, other people get this. You don't get this. But that's okay.' And then I got it."

Liz fell in love with a Brazilian man named Felipe. In the book, Liz writes, "Felipe finally put his palm against my cheek and said, 'That's enough, darling. Come to my bed now.' And I did."

Liz's eyes water as she talks about Felipe. "I loved what he said when he said, 'That's enough,'" she says. "Because we'd been courting for weeks. And he didn't say, 'That's enough of you not giving me you.' You know? What he said was,

'That's enough of you on your own in this world. Now I'm with you. Come on. Let's go together now. That's enough. You proved it. You can do it on your own. And now you get to have that and me. So let's go.'"

Type type type type type…..

Some times to get into the rhythm of writing, like they did in Finding Forester, you just have to start writing, continue from a previous piece of writing to find your own inspiration.

I have a technical piece to write but my head is not there yet so instead, I will ramble...

I was shocked yesterday when I read a BBC Breaking News tweet that Omar Sharif is in support of the protests. I was ready to tweet back at the BBC that Omar Sharif was dead and that they should check their source who was an imposter. I also thought that maybe bbc was making a joke of some kind even though I had not seen any evidence of this kind of sense of humor. I also thought maybe Omar Sharif was representative of the western view of Egypt and the reference was symbolic. In any case, I was ready to retweet and correct the BBC, yes me correct the BBC on the blatant mistake they had made. Good thing I second guess myself as a matter of course, and went off to Google.
I swear I thought he was dead! I am sure I heard something to that effect a few years ago, that the Dr Zhivago had passed. Anyway, the dude is alive and well and maybe 150 years old.

So today is the million man march in Egypt. I find this perpetuating the station that woman hold in that country. Far from me to make judgments about a country I know little about but the little I saw, had very few women in it. At night time driving through Cairo, all the bars were patroned by men smoking their shisha. In all the hotels and museums and historic sites, few women, many men.

I suppose there could be fewer women in the tourist and retail industry than in other industries. Our tour guide also explained that the women in Egypt are free to do as they wished. If you see them adorned in a black Hijab, even in 40 degree weather, it is because they choose to and it is practical.

Now I wonder if this million man march is meant literally. Will women be present? Are they allowed to be present? Can they participate in the revolution of their own country and of themselves?