When the Cheshire emerges...

Lois Lane loves Superman. Superman loves Lois Lane.

Since seeing Man Of Steel last night, I've had this unconventional love story in my head.

I've mentioned in the past how I thought glamour in journalism came from fictional characters. Watching Man Of Steel was not just a solid return for the Kryptonian to the big screen (you get to read the review tomorrow), but the return of their story to my consciousness. And realising that these two could well have subconsciously been my reason for becoming a journalist.

Just look at Henry Cavill for a minute here. He rocks this cape like a boss and manages to mix gentility and extreme sexiness with little effort. It's fair to say the way he's looking at Amy Adams is how most every heterosexual girl wants to be looked at - like there's no one else in the world he'd rather be around.

Do you blame me for wanting to be Lois and find my Superman?

I know that Hollywood is king at presenting people with hope in fictional worlds. And fantastic stills like this one. I'm hopeful though, even if our reality is nowhere as idealistic - of both becoming a cool journalist and finding the hero. Not so much on meeting Henry Cavill unfortunately.

***

While I'm on the subject of Henry Cavill:


The photos don't do him justice... I didn't even think it was possible for a human to be that ripped and not be on steroids or tanned up with veins popping out. Five thousand calories a day for six months is how you get started apparently. Intense.

***
Since your mind is your own private territory, you can give any new idea a private audition for a few days.
(So I really can be Lois Lane and find Superman... excellent.)

There are some people who live 70 years, and there are some people who live one year 70 times, repeating what they're doing over and over in the name of the gold watch or whatever.

If you're looking for love it will always elude you. If you're looking for happiness it will always elude you. When you become these things, it's all you will have to give away.

Stop blaming your spouse for your unhappiness, your parents for your lack of motivation, the economy for your social status, the bakery for your excess weight, your childhood for your phobias, and anything else to which you assign blame points. You're the sum total of the choices you've made in your life.