Cruising

This is my first blog post. I actually have been aware of the nature of blogging since one of my good friends began his a while ago, and have thoroughly enjoyed reading the blogs of others, but never really thought of creating one for myself. I suppose that is partly due to worry and wavering self-assurance: will people like what I write? Is my writing really good enough to publish in an online blog for others to read? Well, the same friend whose blog I initially began reading urged me for sometime to start one of my own, and so I decided today to finally take his advice.

I suppose to give credit, I should name my mysterious friend who encouraged me to write my thoughts out and allow others to read them. Drew, in short, has amazing literary skills. I recently named him a Walking Thesaraus because of his vast knowledge of words to substitute for more commonly used phrases. Whenever I read his work, it astonishes me that he has not already achieved some type of recognition for it other than being the English teacher's favorite when it comes to writing papers for class. His writing I will confess, has inspired me to want to better my own skills and continues to fill me with wonder whenever I read it. However, as much as I love to talk about Drew's unimaginable literary skill, that is not the primary purpose of this post.

This past weekend was thankfully (no pun intended) Thanksgiving Holidays. For me, there exists no greater bliss than to be able to sleep late on a weekday for the first time since August for some other reason than "Mom, I'm sick." Wednesday is typically spent relishing the freedom from schoolwork and other stresses that normally pound people in their typical week, or lazing about in your pajamas all day watching the random Rocky and CSI marathons that appear. My favorite part centers around the best reason to stay home ever conceived by Americans: food. If you think about it, many of our holidays are there simply so we can eat, or so last year's European history teacher said. (Of course, this man enjoyed discussing the nature of McDonald's v Wendy's more than he did Napoleon v England, but still, he had a point.) Thanksgiving food is the best repast consumed all year in my opinion; making it is probably one of the most satisfying parts of eating it later. Every year for the past several years, the mixing of the dressing has been my duty, and I would stand on one side of the kitchen island with a large wooden spoon and an enormous tupperware container while my mom stood on the other pouring different ingredients in that had to constantly be stirred and thoroughly mixed to create the desired effect once baked. However, above all the laughter, scent of turkey and casseroles cooking, and barely audible tinge of Christmas music from the old black stereo, there transcends certain emotions that constitute the "Holiday Spirit." I am a firm believer in family time and relationships, and the peace that rests over the family while spending time together and interacting throughout the Thanksgiving Holidays truly touches my heart.

Of course, after Thanksgiving Day there are the countless numbers of dishes to be washed (or rather loaded into the dishwasher) and the piles of leftovers that everyone knows will make up our meals for the next week or so, but these simply help carry the spirit past the Day itself. It was while I was eating some of these leftovers in my living room when lo and behold, the silver screen monster "Titanic" came on. Now, being but a elementary school child with rather strict and overprotective parents when this movie was first released, I was not allowed to see it in theatres. However, I also never found the time to rent and watch Titanic when I came of age (that would be 13 years old for those whose parents did not abide by the PG-13 rating). So, I found myself very excited this past Saturday to be watching Titanic for the very first time.

Now, call me a hopeless romantic (I know that I am one) but I found the story fascinating and absolutely dreamworthy: the unhappy rich girl who desperately wants to break free of her gilded bonds falls in love with a free-spirited vagabond that gives her a taste of what impulsive life is like. Although she at first attempts to remain proper and respectable by denying this rogue and remaining engaged to be wed to an equally wealthy man, she eventually discovers that her heart lies rather with the wandering minstrel of her dreams and says to her disgustingly horrible fiancee that she would rather be "his whore than your wife." Like most young girls who watch this movie, my favorite scene is where Jack (the vagabond) helps Rose (the rich girl) to "fly" on the front of the cruise ship. As the enthralling music swells behind the camera shot of the two lovers flying toward a sunset on the water, my heart likewise swelled with the desire to one day know that kind of love. Jack then begins to sing something in Rose's ear about flying, and the whole scene just drips with romance that culminates in an emotional and wonderful kiss. However, I noticed after watching this scene that the director, instead of choosing to focus on "the kiss" that has come to be expected in every movie now made, altered the scene and chose to center it on another aspect of their love: their hands. This is part of what makes me love this scene so much - as Rose flies with her arms outstretched, Jack stands behind her and also opens his arms behind hers. As they continue to soar, they begin to play with each other's hands, letting their fingers slide past one another, constantly changing and never ceasing. To me, that is how love should be: always changing and never stopping, but always something that is sweet and that you are able to enjoy. I will say that once the scene changed from the momentous flight of Juliet and her Romeo, I promised myself that if I ever were to take a cruise, I would make it the front of the oceanliner at sunset and take flight myself.