Wednesday, June 8, 2011

Ugly Love and Other Drugs

My boyfriend (bless his soul) and I have a particular method for watching new movies.  I have some "issues" with seeing medical images on the big screen, so prior to going to the movies, my darling boy will google an in-depth synopsis of the proposed film in order to check out if there are any lurking hospital scenes or surprise Oh-hey-my-dad-dies-of-cancer surprise endings.  No one wants to have to waste an ungodly amount of $10 ($12 if 3-D) by walking out of a theatre early. 


Anywho, now that I've put the prologue aside, I so desperately wanted to see "Love And Other Drugs" due to my great admiration of Miss Hathaway- what a gem she is! Well, the pre-movie viewing process was performed and dang-nabit Anne's character has Parkinson's.  So we did not see it, I was heart broken, blah blah. 


WELL. A few months later when the film had gone to Redbox, a dear friend informed me that the "doctor scenes" were very minimal and that I could absolutely watch the film worry-free. And watch I did.


Of course Anne's performance was beautiful, I believed her throughout the entire duration of the 113 minutes. Though, I regret to inform that I cannot give one smidge of feedback on Jake Gyllenhaal's character due to my heavy concentration on Anne.




No, there were not any horrible hospital scenes, but the concept of the film was horrifyingly saddening. 
I despise the thought of sick people coming off as disgusting.  You know what really bothers me even more? Is that Anne Hathaway's character is beautiful.  She is such a pretty lady with such an honest spirit, and even then it is challenging for her to find someone out of the 6.92 billion people inhabiting this  Earth because of the huge "SICK GIRL" banner slapped across her forehead.


Due to my illness in the good ol' days of adolescence my supposed "blossoming bod" was undergoing the exact opposite of natural teenage growth: deterioration. I wasn't exactly the prettiest girl at the ball.  With this in mind, my 14-year-old self thought it best  to shut down ALL interest in the opposite sex.  I was a rational teenager and knew that people my age had hormones just a-ragen' and that I was not one to lust for.


WOW KELSEY YOU'RE SO OPTIMISTIC.


My point is, that if a pretty sick girl has trouble finding a soul-mate, where is the hope for the sick people who lose their more appealing features due to disease? Obviously I know that (cliché alert heed with caution) beauty is literally skin deep, I know that the other cancer patients I have encountered also know this.  But I fear that until you experience your physical body slipping away from you, no one will quite fully grasp the unimportance of an outer-body. 




Maybe all of us sickies and former sickies will just marry each other and live in our own non-media driven society of beauty.