Stuff I’m Going to Do, Thanks Ellie

Disney Pixar's Up

That part when Carl Fredricksen was flipping through the pages of his wife Ellie’s Adventure Book (right when he finally reached the Paradise Falls) — that part did it for me. For the first time, Carl found out that the empty pages he thought Ellie was reserving for the “stuff she’s (I’m) going to do” when she reached the ultimate destination of her childhood dreams, she was actually filling with photos of their life together.

That was my aww-moment, the one part in the movie that brought tears to my eyes, the scene that made me look into my life and ponder on my dreams and wonder what the pages of my book would look like when that time of my life came by.

I have a soft spot for anything that brings forth thoughts about dreams and destinations. Now give me a Disney/Pixar animation made up of dreams, places, photographs, balloons, talking dogs, and *cough* a shy little boy who fell in love with a bossy little girl (Ellie: “You don’t talk very much. I like you!“) *cough*, and I’m all there.

There’s much to say about the movie and its characters, but for this post I shall focus on Carl, the old man who hooked his house to strings of balloons. I see a great deal of myself in his character, save for his being autistic and introverted (shut up, I’m not autistic and introverted). His perseverance and stubbornness are so familiar that I feel like I’m the 26-year-old female version of him. Actually, consider yourself lucky if you’ve read that last sentence because I’m usually too stubborn to admit that I am, uh, stubborn.

So you know the story, because I’m sure you’ve seen it already. (No, wait, you haven’t seen it? Go away, you wouldn’t want to read the next sentence.) When Ellie passed away, Carl did everything in his power to make their childhood dreams come true, and went all that way to Paradise Falls only to realize that they, in fact, for so many years, were already living their dreams.

Sometimes we have to reach that one destination to appreciate that the journey was the true realization of our dreams.

I reckon that’s the beauty of chasing after your dreams (*ehem* self-plug). Sure, you need to focus on the goal (“begin with end in mind,” my Dad would often quote), work hard for it, take the plunge if you must. But you also have to keep your eyes open because surely, something amazing (like, I dunno, meeting a little boy scout who’s as stubborn as you are, or discovering a colorful Ostrich-like bird who loves chocolates, or finding the love of your life) is bound to surprise you along the way and change your life forever.

You gotta learn a thing or two from cartoons, you know.

Watch Up, if you haven’t yet. The talking dogs will blow you away. ;)

Books Turned to Movies, with Varrying Levels of Awesomeness

Long rant. Sorry. Didn’t mean to.

DAY TWENTYEIGHT. Confession: I had nightmares of real-life friends committing suicide during the few weeks that I was reading Jeffrey Eugenides’ The Virgin Suicides. No drama, just them doing their normal day-to-day activities with slashed #wrists. It wasn’t really creepy, mind you, it was more of funny really, but still weird.

Just Another Thursday Morning

This morning, on my desk

I’m not saying that The Virgin Suicides was so disturbing it brought me nightmares, nope. I reckon it’s really just how it is with books. Compared to watching films, reading books allows you to imagine the story yourself and create your own pictures in your head, and it just so happened that my imaginations involved my real life friends. Er.

Now movie-fying a novel is something else. Sometimes, we really have to stop comparing a book to its movie version (and vice versa) if we don’t want to disappoint ourselves.

Exhibit A: I remember reading Nicholas Sparks’ A Walk To Remember long before there were news of a film version. My high school self cried over the pages of Jamie Sullivan’s life, and I remember it well because I didn’t read a lot in high school (save for the Sweet Valley High and Love Stories phase we all had to go through) and AWTR was the first book I ever really shed tears over. The only other book I couldn’t put down in high school was Catcher in the Rye, but that’s a different story. Watching AWTR’s movie version was a disappointment, I remember clearly, because I kept comparing it to the book, and I didn’t like how the movie ended with Jamie’s death. To me, the book had a create-your-own-ending thing going on, and in my ending, Jamie survived cancer and lived a full life with Landon. In the movie, she died.

Exhibit B: It’s just like how I didn’t enjoy watching Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince the first time around. I’m not saying I didn’t enjoy these movies. It’s just that comparisons between the book and the movie are inevitable and they can make or break the movie altogether.

Now there are movies, on the other hand, that are better than their book version.
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