I watched Where the Wild Things Are the other night with Chris, (I know, a bit late..) and i'm not sure why everyone (that I talked to) didn't like it. I pretty much loved it, which is why i'm writing about it. It was definitely dark, but the original story is dark. I think what I liked most about it, was that although my childhood was much different than Max's, I still felt the same things that he felt. So much of growing up for me was this painful, confusing, overwhelming experience..not as much because of what was going on around me..but a lot because I was my own worst enemy...and the smallest thing (or biggest thing) would just make me feel so out of control. I didn't want my igloo to be stomped on. He gets to meet the Wild Things, and relates especially with Carol, who is much like a huge and more disastrous version of himself. Carol almost becomes the "Max" from the beginning of the story, where Max becomes his mom, trying to restore order into a broken life (but still making mistakes.) But those moments when he just gets that look in his eyes like everything inside of him just wants to explode...it's so easy to relate. There have been many moments where I recall wanting to run down the street just yelling, growling, howling at everything that passes me by. And like the moral of the book, we all just want to be "where someone loves us best of all."There may be some kind of correlation of my love for this movie and my life thus far, more specifically-this day at camp last summer. Haha.