7.17.2015

anger management, xxl.

Forewarning: there are many angry swears in this - sorry mom. 

This scene is what the press junkets SHOULD have
focused on.
I saw Magic Mike XXL last night. I don't know if I should publicly admit this, because I almost feel like it's admitting I read 50 Shades of Grey cover to cover and had favorite sentences in it that I highlighted and return to whenever I need writing inspiration (I have never read 50 Shades of Grey). However, in my (and many other women's) defense, may I just say that I think there are all kinds of movies for all kinds of situations. Books, too. Just like taking a mindless/garbage-y/trashy romance to the beach to read and leaving War and Peace at home? Thus shall movies like Magic Mike  and Magic Mike XXL serve their purpose for (Wo)Man. It is a trashy beach read, on film.

I saw the first Magic Mike, yet preferred this Magic Mike to the first Magic Mike. (Which, just expressing that opinion out loud, I think officially makes me a connoisseur of trashy films). It makes fun of itself, and I like people/books/film/music/art that can make fun of themselves. Life's short, let's mock It. 

I loved Jada Pinkett Smith as the girl version of Matthew McConaughey--I'm sorry, Matthew McConaughey, I normally love you, but you were far too oily in the other one. But Jada! Jada was bad. ass. And she knows women and knew exactly what to do with this character (which totally makes sense, since she is one) - I want a Girls Night Out with Jada Pinkett Smith. And can we talk about Joe Manganiello for a couple of seconds? Oh my. Oh my! I know most women go for the Channing Tatum scenes, but Joe just looks like he has a secret obsession for Shakespeare sonnets. People are all talking about his gas station mini-market dance, but I am in love with the wedding/honeymoon dance scene. Minus the swing; let's not get crazy (because that was crazy).

What I most liked about this movie is it knew who'd be watching it (me...I'm saying I think Channing Tatum & Co. personally tailored it for me: "How can we make Amy in Georgia happy?" was a constant refrain heard at every table read). Best scene/stole-the-show character: Andie MacDowell. Oh, how I understood her - not her divorce situation; I am separating from a nice man. Just her anger. If you've seen or do see the movie, you'll understand what I'm talking about.

Because I'm pretty angry at the moment. A stew-y type of anger. A stew-y, soup-y, highly controlled kind of anger that's actually hard to explain unless you're inside of me. (Please don't make inappropriate jokes about how that came out because I started off rave-salivating over a male stripper movie. You'll just add to the swirling bog of turbulent vexation.)

Here are some examples of things that make me angry right now:

1. People, specifically men, telling me what to do/who I am/how I feel. Are you me? Do you have exclusive access to the thoughts in my brain? That's right, you don't, so. Fuck you.

2. People, specifically men, who make assumptions about what I need or what I want. Oh, why? Because I'm in a bad spot right now, and vulnerable, and so I don't really know what I need or want? Fuck you.

3. People, specifically men, who think because I'm separated now that I'm easier to take advantage of. Oh, you sense my vulnerability and think it'll make me less discerning? Fuck you. 

I continue processing where I'm at right now - this will take an enormously long time to wade through if I want to do it properly, and I want to do it properly. My summer is ending, I have to get back to work next week, and I have to engage and be present there. I've accepted that this is where I'm supposed to be right now, in terms of career, for whatever reason, and so it's really important to me now to stay engaged and focused. Yet I also know now that, particularly at work, I need to keep protective walls of immunity from the Crazy built around me. I need to tend to these walls, adding layers whenever necessary. 

And I'm still adjusting to my new home situation, and I am worried about me, about C, about Miss M. And so you know what? This IS all making me vulnerable, goddammit. And that's what's making me angry, I bet. Each interaction I have with a new human being right now, specifically the male of the species, leaves me generally suspicious: what do you really want from me? I am here for me and my family, full stop. If you are not in my family, I'm not here for you - I am not responsible for how you feel or what you think, and what you want is...sorry to be rude, but that's your problem not mine. You do you; I'll do me. And so I have nothing for you and I am a mess right now; please don't say or do anything to make it worse. 

Generally, I'm a ridiculously over the top nice person, an extreme people pleaser of the worst kind. I try very hard to keep my interactions with others - online and off - kind and pleasant. I prefer to spread love, not anger. But I'm finding I may have to start being a bit more assertive. Less nice. More Jada Pinkett Smith-y. If you will. 

Most of all, I need to be surrounded by healers and people who just want to laugh and have fun right now. Go see Magic Mike XXL, and you'll get a good idea of who I want to hang out with right now (and NO I am not saying I want to be surrounded by male entertainers...you seriously haven't even read a thing I just wrote, have you? Focus, or we can't be friends: I mean people who don't take themselves seriously, people who are interested in smiling and laughter and fun and goodness and kindness and authenticity. I want to be around people who know this planet is hard to live on and so let's not create any more messes than we absolutely positively have to. And I want to be with people - specifically men - who know sometimes women just want to be a queen, not a thing to be manipulated and used and taken advantage of). 

Ending side note: This would be one of those roller coaster emotions a friend of mine told me about. This week's roller coaster was anger; last week's was sadness. I'm cycling through, so happiness is right around the corner; I just know it.



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