Love Actually…

This could be my favorite movie of all time. Its a contender with Moulin Rouge, depending on my mood….(did someone say hopeless romantic?). Love Actually is the 2003 feel good romantic holiday flick with Hugh Grant and all those cute and love-able British actors. In my biased opinion, the only thing that could make this film better would be a single-mom subplot amid all the other characters’ interrelated tales. Even without, though, this film absolutely rocks! I love how it opens up and closes with scenes from an airport, all that happiness and joy and excitement oozing from those waiting for the arrival home of someone loved. There really is nothing better than the anticipation and fulfillment of that reunion. I used to be a flight attendant (in a not-so-distant past life before I had Lucca) and that was the one thing about the job I truly loved: being in airports and seeing that amid the craziness of security check points and lost luggage there was this: “Love actually is all around,” (which is the tagline for the movie).

I rented this movie last night and watched it as I have done every holiday season for the past 4 years (Wow! has it really been that long?– This is when the passing of time gets really scary because suddenly it becomes very evident how one could wake up 40 years in the future and realize she is still alone). I ask myself which storyline I gravitate to and what that might reveal about my own character and what I am looking for in love. As much as I try to find myself elsewhere, I can’t: this year, as every year, I want to be Natalie, the imperfect (and “slightly chubby”) heart-warmingly real character Hugh Grant as Prime-Minister is completely smitten with. Something about the pairing of an unlikely female with a powerful but lonely man is irresistible to me. Its not that I think women need to be rescued by a man, or that struggling single moms find their fairytale ending with financially secure men that can ‘take care of them.’ Material wealth and well-being is not what makes successful men so alluring to me…the charm of prince charming is not his shiny armor or white thorough-bread horse.

What I am drawn to is the missing and hidden pieces at the core of that successful man. The part of him that doesn’t see the light of day that often– the honest and raw part, the vulnerable and goofy part, the love-sick and cheesy part– the part of him that craves a good woman. All men have this part but it is only sexy in those who have the rest of their life in order. Something about an ‘honest and raw’ broke and broken poet just doesn’t do it for me the same way that a ‘vulnerable and goofy’ business man does. Reason being is simple: I want to balance a man’s heart, not his check book. I want to be a fountain of joy for his spirit, not the muse of his emotional education. When meeting a partner for life, I want to be the to-die-for-icing on top of his already awesome cake. I’ll pass on Jerry Maguire, as romantic as it sounds when he says it, I don’t think on the other end of “you complete me” is where I want to be. Somethings a man has to learn how to do on his own (or ask his mom to reteach him): like pay his bills, cook a descent meal, bring his dishes to the sink, and find his purpose and drive in life. Once those things are pretty much set, bring me into the picture then. From here its about making two good lives when lived separately, f@*!-ing great when lived together.