Pretty Woman. I swear. The movie is quite inspiring. And I don’t have to stop to watch because I know the Cinderella story by heart. It’s a fairy tale, an archetypal tale – more the heroine’s myth than the hero’s. Down on her luck beautiful girl with poor self-esteem (who is plucky, quite intelligent and possesses secret dreams) has a serendipitous and life-altering encounter with mega-rich pragmatic impersonal heartless prince (with a deeply repressed but very sensitive soul).
Sex first, attraction second, love third, denial of love fourth, over-coming of all fears fifth, admission of love sixth and away we go in a white limo. (It’s true, a kiss is more intimate than, as Sheldon would say, coitus.)
Put on music and I’m doomed because I have to stop writing to sing.
Oh, and hubby just cut the hell out of his finger on a broken terra cotta pot so I gotta go do my nurse thing. There’s blood everywhere, I swear.