Oh, Leo

When I was younger, I was in love with Leonardo DiCaprio. Full on, thirteen year old love- which probably started before I was thirteen and definitely lasted longer than that. I saw Romeo and Juliet multiple times in the theater, Titanic even more. Once or twice I even threw him a birthday party- which consisted of my dragging my friends over to my house to watch some of him movies and revel in his wonderfulness. (btw his birthday is November 11th, veteran's day).
He was not my first love, just the most influential during my formative years. I was always a fan of dramatic love, for many reasons. I'm a girl- and not to make drastic generalizations here, but i'm a romantic. I want to believe in a deeper kind of love. Which brings me to my point.

I am someone who feels things....strongly. I've had this trait described as: opinionated, argumentative, feisty, 'overdramatic'/drama queen, and bitch. I prefer the term....passionate. I feel most alive when i'm feeling things deeply, or discussing them or fighting about them, etc. I'm not always right, god knows, but then it's not really about that, is it? The point is that this is a trait I actually like about myself, maybe even one of my favorites. When I die i'd like at least one person to be able to remember me as someone who felt passionately about life (certain parts of it, at least). And I realized something recently. I was afraid I had lost my passion.

Time went on, I stopped having birthday parties for Leonardo, and now only faintly nod my hat to him on Nov. 11th. I became more aware of his hit-or-miss acting, moved onto other celebrity crushes, attempted to find my own dramatic lover- failing miserably, and life just kind of kept moving. See, i'm at a place right now that's actually pretty good. I am happy- I don't feel any inkling of the depression that crept up on me a year or two ago. I'm relaxed, I have a good job, good friends, a good life- and even some semblance of a life plan (when i'm not panicking about it). But I think I let the passion go by the wayside. I noticed, or rather failed to notice, any real sense of inspiration. No 'pep in my step', you could say. Again, not depression, just a complacency with life and where i'm at. Normal people would be ok with this. It's safe to say i'm not always normal.

After Christmas I started reading the Twilight series. I know, I have mentioned this before. I quickly became obsessed, aquired all four books and read them til all hours of the night- going on fewer hours of sleep and spending all my free time in this make-believe world. And truthfully, it scared the crap out of me. I felt like I was thirteen again, and I feared I was regressing- but why? I was afraid to finish the series because I didn't want to miss the characters, but I also didn't want to let myself keep reading, because I realize that an obsession this intense is ridiculous. But is it? I went back to my therapist to get a grip on reality, and hear a dose of "you're being whiny and ridiculous and too hard on yourself". I talked about how I realized I was afraid I had lost this passion in my life, because these books brought it back so strongly. I kind of forgot what it was like to feel like that about something. And once I realized that's what it was, just my previously unchanneled passion finally regaining some ground in my subconcious (ok, and consciousness), I felt better about the whole thing. Frankly, it was a relief to realize I never lost that ability to feel so deeply. I think that in adjusting to my new job, where I hear so many feelings during the course of a day, I've been learning to compartmentalize as a defense mechanism (no one likes to bring their work home). I just forgot which compartment I left my own stuff in, and they collected dust for a little while. It appears I've found the key and re-opened that drawer, cause i'm now feeling everything a little bit more strongly. Nothing too outrageous, just a little jolt. And it feels much better. I was able to realize that i'm kind of bored at work- and I need to find things to make my life feel more like my life. I want to take this writing class through Temple (kind of like the architecture class I took last summer), and I'd like to start going out on dates again, although with whom is still a mystery (since Bob the pharmacist is MIA).

Also, I finished the Twilight series tonight. And it was good. I don't feel sad, because the series ended well. I didn't cry, like when Harry Potter ended, cause let's face it the Twilight books are no Harry Potter. And besides, I have piles of other books to get started on, and hopefully they'll continue to keep me interested and make me feel things, both good and bad. Cause that's what books and movies-all things entertainment- are supposed to do. And until I have more of my own passionate love stories and intellectual challenges, they'll have to do.

But it all comes back to Leonardo DiCaprio. Last weekend, he was at the Golden Globes with Kate Winslet. He lost, but she won- twice. She thanked him in her second speech, and I got all choked up (as did they), because damn, he is still quite good looking- and they seem to be genuine friends. And isn't it always nice when that happens? I saw Revolutionary Road today- the movie they are currently in together. It was depressing, but well done. He overacted at parts, but he still cries the same, and he is still fairly good at emoting. Kate Winslet was amazing, as per usual, but it was him I went to see. To say hello to my old crush, and wish him a belated happy birthday. Thanks for the memories, Leo.