When dreams die

As I keep mentioning, I am turning 40 later this year. I partly keep mentioning it so that I will be ridiculously chilled out about it when it happens, but also in the vain hope that people will respond with “Forty? No WAY. You don’t look a day over thirty-mumble”. Thankfully, several folk have been generous enough to fake incredulity in this manner recently.

I’ve never had a fortieth birthday before and decided that I would do something a bit different. Having a massive party and getting so drunk that the All Blacks are forced to play without me doesn’t really appeal these days. Muthahood™ has mellowed me (and lowered my alcohol tolerance so far I get tipsy if I walk into a room that has an open bottle in it).

What would I really, really like to do then as a social event? Something “booze optional”. Something that I would really enjoy. Something out of the ordinary to get dressed up for.

Why, have a private screening at a movie cinema of one of my favourite movies, of course! Imagine not being worried about some weirdo stranger texting person sitting next to you in the movie? And there could be themed dressing! And themed snacks! The only thing I love better than movies is a THEME.

So a private screening of The Princess Bride, it was to be.

As I wish, b*****s.

Months ago I made enquiries with a range of cinemas in Christchurch and one of these said that as they’ve screened the film there in the last year they could get it back for me. Naturally there’s some cost involved (it gets sent here from Australia) and restrictions on what days of the week they can make a cinema available but yes, I could have my movie.

I was thrilled. I was so thrilled I spent hours combing the internet for Princess Bride costumes, party food (chocolate coated miracle pills, jelly snake/shrieking eels, and Andre the Giant Jaffas anyone?), and other interesting bits and pieces. And I invited people. People from out of town, some of whom then booked travel. I was even going to do a little competition where a few of you could get tickets to come to the screening**. This was going to be the most fun EVER.

And then late last week Warner Bros Australia in their infinite wisdom decided against releasing a copy of the film for my screening. And thusly they crushed my tiny dream. Like a six-fingered man skewering a master swordmaker. I’m not going to call it ultimate suffering but I’m pretty bummed about it.

Killed by pirates is good. Killed by Warner Bros is bad.

Oh, of course I can have some other, inferior film instead, something current. But will there be Rodents Of Unusual Size? Lisping Sicilian kidnappers? An Impressive Clergyman? Pwobably not.

And then I found out that George Clooney got married, so that’s two impossible dreams smashed in as many days.

Oh George, we’ll always have Madame Tussauds.

Though you could argue that this particular dream isn’t smashed as much as the list of unexpected and tragic events that would have to occur in order for George and I to get together just got even longer. And it was quite long already (but doable!*).

At least I can take comfort in the knowledge that Mrs George is a terrible dullard who only speaks 3 languages fluently, is a successful human rights lawyer and wastes her time in frivolous endeavours like meeting with the UK’s Foreign Secretary “to discuss how to drive forward international action to protect children in conflict zones from rape and sexual violence”. I mean, really. What. An. Airhead. Not a patch on me, someone who in eventuates literally cannot organise a moving screening in a cinema, let alone a piss-up at a brewery.

It’s enough to make a girl quite mopey.

Though I have to say, I was cheered by my own Silver Fox’s reaction when I bemoaned George’s matrimonial state, which was for him to do a massive eyeroll at me over his breakfast cereal. It was kind of like this but with more stubble (and Weetbix).

I do have a fondness for his crazy facial expressions. And boy do I give them chops a good workout most days.

So now I’m kind of stuck for ideas as to what to do for my birthday and I need to get this organised quickly because social events in December ARE A SCHEDULING NIGHTMARE. I mean, I guess I could just go to dinner with my friends and family but, well, refer to above gif again.

We need to brainstorm, people. I have a mediocre budget, exacting tastes, and almost no spare time to organise. What’ve you got for me?

Anybody else’s “George Clooney and me sitting in a tree” fantasies just get crushed?

*Not really

**Ok, this was at least partly because I don’t have enough friends to fill a whole cinema, even a small one. But I was also planning on having people donate money to Women’s Refuge as their entry into the draw. I spend A LOT of time thinking about this, you guys. A LOT.

(This post was originally published on Stuff, 29 September 2014)

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