But Who Will They Cast?

Romantic comedies are inherently bad. I know having seriously studied them during the decade of 1994 - 2004 where I saw every unrealistic 90 minute love affair that was shown "at the mall" or "the theater across the street from the mall". This time conveniently coincided with a wallet full of babysitting spending money and nothing better to do.

But from all those movies, whether the object of desire was young and handsome, nerdy and cute, or dashing and British, in the end, the guy would fall for the girl. It didn't matter that my already pragmatic mind would be nagging, "But what will happen next? How will they make it work?" I still fell for the story every time.

So it's because of this that whenever someone's response to one of my stories is "Wow your life is just like a romantic comedy" I get a twinge of hopefulness rather than the thought that perhaps I should be rethinking my life decisions.

This is especially unfortunate for me considering it's never the recap of the great, romantic date that prompts someone to compare me to Julia Roberts. (For the record I have never been in a prostitute-esque situation that would warrant a Pretty Woman comparison, but it is a fantastic movie, right?)

No, the leading lady on the tip of everyone's tongue is almost always BRIDGET JONES. Sad, but true. Unfortunately so very, very true last week. I shouldn't have told anyone, but I did. I mean, when you experience a real life movie-montage moment, you have to share, right?

Luckily this time, my Bridget moment didn't involve getting sprayed by dirty water. But it doesn't mean it was pretty. Okay fine, here it goes:

There is sad Rachel in her bathrobe. Sad Rachel is listening to the radio, waiting for the tub to fill. She is wearing a green mud mask in an ill-timed attempt to battle winter's cruel effects. Luckily she lives alone so no one can comment on how terrible she looks, but she knows it to be true. That's unfortunately not even the worst of it. There on the counter is a container of American frosting she had smuggled back in her suitcase, meant to be used for brownies, but who needs to go to the trouble of baking these days? Instead she is eating her feelings with a tiny, delicate German spoon. And then, if things could not get any more pathetic, the radio switches songs. Adele's "Someone Like You" begins. The first few chords play. There is no stopping it. Sad Rachel knows has no control over her emotions when the haunting heartache of Adele infiltrates the airwaves. By the time the chorus starts, "Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead," she is full-on sobbing. Her green face bobbing up and down, stuffing itself with chocolate to suppress the tears. There is no denying that this is a low point. 

You can totally picture that scene being in the movie right? Good ol' rock bottom. But Bridget comes out pretty well on the other side. She ends up with Mark F'ing Darcy. And I think we can agree that you can do a hell of a lot worse than Colin Firth.

So this holiday season my Christmas wish lists consists of a tall, handsome man in a reindeer jumper. You hear that, mom? Start shopping.

Size L or XL, please.

PS: I have already linked to this before, but this Mindy Kaling article (and chapter from her book) about types of women in romantic comedies is perfection. God I love her.