Hurtling though space is scary.
It seems as though the older I get, the more affected I am by the films that I watch. Maybe not in a life changing way, though there is the occasional movie that can instill something new in me. It's more of the visceral side of me that makes me cry and cringe and jump and clench every muscle in my body.
Tonight I went to go see Gravity (this isn't a movie blog I swear), because it was the last showings in the area. I had to see it after it had won so many academy awards last Sunday. I ended up going alone straight after work, and it surpassed all of my expectations. It turns out that while much of it is Sandra Bullock spinning in space, it's still thrilling and compelling and highly stressful.
Yes, that is what I took away from the film. This is really really stressful.
The problem with this new highly reactive me is that even though I understand that film is not real life and that I'm not an astronaut and that I never will be... I carry all that stress out of the theater with me. Tonight just happened to be a horrible night to be my silly self.
When I walked out to my car it was absolutely pouring rain by Utah standards. I'm used to driving in snow, and I've had my fair share of rainy days in Florida, but they were nothing like this. The roads were slick and shiny making it impossible to see the lanes of the highway. People were zooming past at 90 mph, the windshield wipers were working furiously and I was freaking out. Every single light I passed made me feel like I was by myself in an out of control spaceship probably hurtling to my death.
Yet, I made it home. I am alive and well, and though I still feel anxious about the space walk that I will never take, I truly enjoyed Gravity and think that they probably deserved every Oscar that they brought in.