We’re having mandatory family fun night, watching Juno. Most of the time, MFFN involves playing cards or a board game. I’m probably going to include some spoilers in this discussion, so if you’re the kind of person, like me, who gathers as little knowledge as possible about a film before going to see it because otherwise you can’t maintain your suspension of disbelief, then stop reading right now and go rent the movie so you can come back and read.
Seriously.
I won’t be the least bit disturbed. I probably won’t even notice because reading here isn’t like talking on the phone or even sending email. I don’t know who’s out there reading unless they comment, either IRL or on the blog . . . and you can see I don’t get a lot of comments. I’m not sure why that is, except that the church is its own dysfunctional little family, and putting ones self out there spiritually is kind of scary. Both Michael and his mother think I don’t do that nearly enough here, and I often feel I’ve done it too much. That doesn’t even scratch the self-censorship I do because of who I think is (or might be) my eventual audience . . . what do I want to write if I think my Gramma might read it? I think my mom reads. I know my dad does, at least sometimes. Farmergirl will eventually.
My mil (she who thinks I don’t dig deep enough) has plans to burn her journals before her death, on the grounds that they ought not be read . . . this is a position I consider loss to the planet. I haven’t read them (and now she’s probably more likely to take those preliminary steps toward incineration, because I know she’ll be one of the first five people to read these words, as she’s also my most loyal reader), so I don’t know that this is factually true (the loss) . . . but since she’s an interesting woman who’s led an interesting (if sometimes difficult) life, I suspect it’s true. My own mother also journals. I have joked (though I’m actually quite serious) that her journals and letters will comprise the bulk of some future academic’s dissertation on life from the 1950s to the 2040s.
You’re probably wondering what happened to the Juno review. I was giving you enough space to not accidentally see the spoiler. I suppose I could have accomplished that with a more tag. But I’m a writer, not a programmer, so you can see where my mind was on that one.
I really liked Juno. It was quirky and well written (though uneven), and I think it tackled a hard subject in the best way it could (though it had a few plot points that were not quite resolved). It reminded me a bit of Little Miss Sunshine: a cast of screwball characters — flawed, broken people — each doing his or her best to make it through a difficult time.