It’s not a love story. It’s a story about love.


Not my sharpest then.

She said, “I’m Autumn.”
Tom (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) gave her a sheepish smile with a meaningful look in his eyes and nodded in comprehension – more for his own benefit, than Autumn’s.
It took me at least 5 seconds … and after going, ‘Spring . Summer . Autumn…’ – silently verbalising the seasons in a year to go: 
“oh. Ha ha. Sweet!”

How appropriate of “Autumn” to come after “Summer”. And should I add that “Autumn” is way, way hotter and better than summer even though she only made the silver screen appearance of less than 5 minutes during the entire course of the movie.

Yes, I was instructed repeatedly to watch (500) DAYS OF SUMMER

And the homework?

Do I relate to the girl or the boy?


It’s not a love story. It’s a story about love.

And appropriately said: “I can’t decide if you are the girl or the boy. Go watch it and tell me who you relate more to. I think it’s the boy.” {pause} “No. The girl.”
Gosh. Grandpopsie Robbie couldn’t be more accurate in his assessment.
Maybe I am an open book. Maybe I wear my heart on my sleeves too much.
Well, my 360 degrees Feedback was boring in a “spot on!” way on every single aspect and boy oh boy were people consistently aligned with their independent responses … and yes, Grandpopsie Robbie was one of the respondent of my recent 360 degrees Feedback.
See, I totally get what he’s saying.
I, being Penelope, who should technically know Penelope best and in-side-out, can’t decide either:

boy or girl?
girl or boy?
Well, only 2 types of people exist in the world <QUOTE-UNQUOTE> apparently.
I decided. Both Boy or Girl, Girl or Boy.

In the beginning of the movie, heck yes, I am “Summer” (Zooey Deschannel) with everyone but 2 of my relationships thus far. I am the shallow, selfish, quirky, enigmatic user who’s got the dopey-eyed infatuated ‘puppy’ in my palms. I am the cold and heartless, but downright UN-bashfully flirtatious person. Herein, known as “the girl”.
Well, blame my parents for conceiving me then, at what must have once been passionate times for them … some decade plus a couple of years before the signs of Splitville started flashing.
Blame it on the cosmic alignment of planets, stars, moon … I am a Libran. We are BORN as flirts. It says on our birth certificate chart – Occupation: FLIRT-ers
But unlike Zooey Deschannel, or in this case her character Summer Finn, who must not have been a Libran, I hated her apartment.

Whilst I tried not too many years ago to introduce Toile de Jouy into Malaysian homes with little success. Now that I reflect back possibly only me and my 1-foot-by-1-foot miniature pincher, Rover, caught the bug.

Me, having bought every fibre that made up the inferior single coloured block print TC Cotton Toile de Jouy from Laura Ashley at RM129 per meter and every foot of Toile de Jouy wall paper they had.

And Rover, well, he sure pushed and stretched his case of making the Toile de Jouy his when he eased himself in his one leg raised acrobatic maneuvers against the vertically placed bale of Toile de Jouy.

Rover is a rascal. But that doesn’t bother me.
Summer Finn’s apartment bothers me.
It’s a bad 1950s post-depression Russian flat reproduction.
Tom’s apartment was a whole different story. 
The illusion of depth and layers created by partitions … 
The play of different building materials for all vertical surfaces that doubles with practical purposes …
The juxtaposition of puritanical space and bare finishes with every day “clutter” – clutter that actually make sense! Clutter that added warm into the living space. Clutter that seems to carry an air of intellect.   
{don’t ask. Architectural books just does it for me}
Well of course {blushing}, I’ve got a long standing thing about architects.
They are just plain sexy … which brings me to the next point of agreement with Tom, that the entertainment industry, retail industry, music industry, and publishing industry are to be blame for the illusions of grandeur and unrealistic expectations we form in our relatively simple world.
Tom was referring to LOVE. I’m referring to PLAIN architects.
I’m just sayin’
I’ve not met an architect in flesh that oozes the sensuality my mind has formed over the years … most active period would be the adolescence years, followed by reaffirmation during the Lake House movie screening and a few months post its screening. 
Have definitely not met any Keanu Reeves looking types. And heck, not one architect I know wears charcoal grey turtle necks.
So, anyways, the movie (500) DAYS OF SUMMER progresses … I am drawn in by Tom’s lifestyle. His music. Clothes. Books. Art. Architecture. Perceptions. Visions. Staring into space. Sitting on park benches. Admiring beauty when everyone misses it …
Yeah. I can so TOTALLY be Tom.
So, there you go grandpopsie Robbie, spot on!
I can’t tell either. Boy or Girl. Girl or Boy.
Am both I suppose with my own personal {Penelope} branding infused.



6 thoughts on “It’s not a love story. It’s a story about love.

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