What a relief.
I read this article today about a study suggesting that a lot of modern relationships fail because of our media consumption - specifically, romantic comedies. Rom-coms, as they are apparently called in jolly ol' England, "promote unrealistic expectations when it comes to love." I shared this with my sister and the ensuing exchange can be found below.
HTD: WHAT?!?!?! You mean if I write my name and number on a $5 bill and use it to buy some gum from a newsstand, the man of my dreams ISN’T going to find it, and thus, find ME?!?! I thought that was just how it worked. Like, fo shiz.
ME: I know, RIGHT?? And if I meet some random guy in an internet chat room, he's going to turn out to be a scary, unwashed 48 year old who still lives in his mom's basement, and NOT the LOVE OF MY LIFE who is also rich and has a golden retriever?!? That's just crazy-talk!
HTD: And if I ditch my fiancé on our Valentine dinner, to rush to the top of the Empire State Building to meet the man I am TRULY destined to be with (and his son), the only person waiting for me will be some suicidal love-holiday reject?
ME: And if I become a shabby, environmentally- and socially-conscious corporate lawyer, I wouldn't be hired on to grudgingly cater to the every whim of an unbelievably handsome, rich, arrogant millionaire with a British accent and AMAZING HAIR who, even after he is witness to my intestinal distress following a bout of emotional binge-eating, gives up his company and his play boy ways just to be with me? You're saying he wouldn't look twice at me (let alone hire me), in spite of my sassy repartee and faux-homeliness? That's CRAZY.
HTD: And, ANNNND, you’re ACTUALLY telling me that if I become so successful a movie-trailer producer that I have to install a cutting room IN MY HOUSE, but the stress of said success (as a woman, naturally) and the ghosts of my family’s past leave me a hollow shell of a human who can’t cry but who, on occasion, has esophageal spasms, and I decide to trade homes with a complete stranger over a sketchy Google-found vacation site, let a stranger CLAIMING to be the homeowner’s brother into my rented digs, proceed to have sex with him, only to find he has two daughters and a dead wife – IF all of this takes place, he won’t fall in love with me despite my general blonde annoyingness and inability to act or--I stress it again--CRY!?!?! W. T. F.
ME: And, ANNNND, you're REALLY saying that if I harbor a years-long crush on a man who only sees me as a friend, but flirts with me JUST ENOUGH that I think I might still have a chance with him, he is NOT going to hop on an international flight and show up at the fabulous home I have rented site-unseen from a sketchy woman who found me on Google to tell me he can't imagine his life without me (yea though he is still engaged)? And you're telling me that even if that happened, I WOULDN'T magically get some gumption, just get over him already and immediately be asked out by the adorable film-score composer I just happened to meet almost immediately upon my arrival in this foreign location? NO. WAY.
Hee.
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6 comments:
Wait, let me make sure I have this straight:
You two are insinuating that if I were to fall in love with a man who I saved from being crushed by a train when he fell onto the tracks, and then lied to the ER nurse and said I was his fiancee even though we'd never spoken because I was lonely and wanted to be near him, even though he was in a coma...but then his family showed up and the ER nurse told them I was his fiancee that they didn't know about, and I then go to Christmas at their house and end up falling in love with them AND his boyishly handsome brother, and upon his recovery from the coma, discovering that the comatose man I thought I was in love with is actually a terrible person, thus allowing me to marry the boyishly handsome brother and become a member of the family with minimal guilt...what you are telling me is that these expectations are UNREALISTIC?
hm.
So, the time-traveling lake house mailbox is out too, huh. Damn.
What? I don't understand this at all. Jamie and I met and fell in love because some girlfriends of mine picked him out for me to write a story about how to make a man break up with you (I was a magazine writer at the time). Turns out his buddies bet him he couldn't make a girl fall in love with him and they chose me. Only after trying my hardest to get him to dump me, we spend a weekend together at his parents' house (where he teaches me to ride his motorcycle) and we fall in love for real. Sigh. There was a little speed bump where the truth came out at a gala while I was wearing this awesome yellow diamond necklace and I sang "You're So Vain" to him (rather nastily), but we worked it all out in the end.
Hold on to hope, girls. It really does happen that way! :)
OH OH! One time i was living in NOTTING HILL...wait. Okay I effed up. Continue.
Oh, sigh. Jo, your story gives me hope. I KNEW these things really happened!
Once they do, I think we all should put our stories together into one interwoven tapestry of love, wherein I would fall in love with a bumbling writer whose house I clean but whom I've never actually spoken to (because we speak different languages) - we will get engaged after a month in which we have each secretly learned a passable version of the other's language "just in cases." Bree, your tale would involve meeting the man of your dreams in a most unlikely manner - as lighting stand-ins in what I can only assume is a remarkably high-budget porno flick. You and Mr. BashfullyKindWithAmazingSelfControl will also be married within the month. Haley, I am certain, will travel to a mysterious, far-away land like...Effingham, England...where she will sit down in the local pub and meet 3 handsome, brawny lads who will marvel at her accent and give her a free place to stay... or maybe more. Our stories will overlap and intertwine and culminate in a mass airport scene where we will all apparently be on and/or waiting for the exact same flight.
In a separate scenario, Bea, you will travel from Chicago to New York with a high-maintenance bachelorette (who thinks she is low-maintenance.) Years later, after you have become best friends, she will teach you a valuable lesson while unintentionally encourage fellow diners to "have what she's having." After a falling out, you will realize your true feelings for her and will reveal it to her in a sort of passive-aggressive speech that starts off showing that you've noticed a bunch of her annoying habits, but you manage to end it on a sweet note.
Y'all are fun. :)
HAHAHAHAHAHAAA!! This is the best ever.
Oh, and i'm not calling you k-flix anymore. I'm calling you:
Pita Spkia
:D:D:D:D:D
"So you're tellin' me there's a chance..."
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