I’m apparently still recovering from my 10 hour drive, as evidenced by my body’s determination to sleep for thirteen hours until 2 o’clock this afternoon. Thirteen hours, body? You needed thirteen hours? You have the audacity to continue growing spiky leg hair when I let you sleep for thirteen hours?

I just re-watched the movie Only You for the gazillionth time, and not just because Robert Downey Jr. and Marisa Tomei are extraordinarily good at kissing, but because it is over the top and sappy in the best way. It is complete fantasy, light as a feather, contrary to all notions of common sense. With a backdrop of Venice, Rome, and the glorious Italian hillside, it circles around the idea of fate and destiny.

I believe in fate. Or, more specifically, I partially do. I believe that we, as people, have to work to achieve goals, and that it discredits those who train in a particular area for decades to call them “lucky,” but also that we don’t control every factor of our lives, and that some things come down to outside forces. You have to admit that some things in life are sort of, well… fate-ish.

The same thing applies to the concept of talent. It’s rightfully irritating to a musician friend of mine to receive comments that say things like, “I wish I could play piano like that!” He’s been playing the damn thing since he was born. He didn’t wake up one morning and think, “Gee, I wonder if I can be a musical badass. Yep! Looks like I can! All set.” Calling talent a “gift” is insulting to those who fight for it. BUT, once again, there’s another side to it all. He has abnormally long fingers. He has a natural predisposition to music. When he was two years old and drawn to Paul McCartney, it wasn’t because he consciously decided, “If I study this now, it’ll provide me with an insecure job for my twenties.” Some things just happen, and some coincidences seem too big for me to write them all off as chance.

Or maybe I just love Robert Downey Jr. and had nothing else to write about.

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