Monday, September 26, 2011


Have you ever noticed that the heroine in all those sloshy romantic comedies out there is ALWAYS younger than we are?


This is the sad little fact I realized Sunday evening after watching 3 successive RomComs and plowing through half a pint of Ben & Jerry's phish food.  (How to Lose a Guy...Lover Boy...and 27 Dresses. Although to be fair I'm not sure that Lover Boy really counts. Extra Anchovies anyone??)

But seriously, let's think about this.  Girl is (.most always) absorbed in advancing career/helping others to the detriment of her own social life, rarely if ever lamenting the fact that she's not yet married at the ripe old age of 28 or some equivilent bullshit... girl is then either swept off her feet or at least teased and argued off her feet by Mr. Not-So-Perfect-at-First Glance-But -Secretly-Exactly-Who-She-Needs.  Then they end up having some perfect Storybook wedding/grand gesture, and are probably walking off into the sunset as.I.type...

Also? When they sing karaoke badly & off-tune? It's adorable. When I do it? It's just embarrassing.

And they're so YOUNG.


I should never be allowed to drink wine & watch Romantic Comedies after midnight. I'm like a fucking romantic gremlin. It only starts bubbling at the surface when I break the rules...

And I'm sure when I started typing I had some ulterior motive here. I'm sure my shiraz-soaked brain had puzzled out some deeper meaning in all the taffeta and lace in these movie monstrosities...but right now I'm so busy getting every last chocolate-covered carmel fishy out of my rapidly melting ice cream soup that I can't imagine what that deeper meaning might have been.

Where there should be vitriol and bile at the way things have found themselves...there is simply this sad little puzzled me. Wondering how I could possibly be the girl in the flannel pajamas and the empty bottle of wine, when everyone else is off having their happy endings.

And, while some small part of my psyche clings like mad to the edge of It-could-still-happen-to-me-
cliff, the greater part of me knows I need to get very very comfortable with these flannel pajamas and my own distorted reflection in the bottom of the win bottle...I think we'll be seeing a lot of each other over the years...which is okay, really, because these pajamas are pretty damn comfortable...


  1. If it provides any comfort, I'm right there with you.

  2. Also? I'm pretty sure that "win bottle" vs "wine bottle" was the CORRECT way to phrase it. We win. Somehow. Right?


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