My inner Kanye West comes out when I watch RomComs. They make so incredibly angry, I am often tempted to stand up in theater and interrupt the climax of the movie. You know what I am taking about, the moment when the guy/girl realizes that it is his/her “best friend, co-worker, or arch nemesis” is really the love of their life. Then we, the audience, are shown the racing down the highway/running through the airport scene where both declare their love for each other, blah.blah. You know how it ends- and that right there is my problem. These movies give us a false hope about love.
What I hate most about Romantic Comedies is that the female character is usually this overworked, undersexed, control freak. Why does the woman always have to be a class A b@&*h and the guy, the guy is usually carefree, oversexed, and sarcastic.
I am no bitter Betty (despite currently sounding like one) but as a woman I watch these Romantic Comedies and all I can think of is, when will I have my running through the airport moment? Honestly, when has that EVER happened. I have flown out of O’Hare and Midway plenty of times and have yet to witness with my own eyes a man or a woman running wildly through the airport chasing down their lover. I have been a journalist for over a decade (yes, I count my high school and college experience) and I have yet to report on this type of declaration of love.
I was sitting at the Starbucks on 53rd a couple of days ago and I witnessed a classic RomCom break up. Literally. Like, he gave the whole, “it’s not you, its me” speech. Followed by the “I am not the man I need me to be yet” and of course he topped this cupcake with the ultimate cherry, “I want us to still be friends.” #Sigh. Hangs head down. I’m sure this woman, fitting the movie genre’s cookie cutter stereotype, played her role to perfection and went straight to Treasure Island and bought a whole bunch of ice cream.
With all my friends getting married and having babies, I’m starting to feel like freaking Bridgette Jones! Wait, scratch that because she had a running through the airport type moment. Oh Lord, I’m going to become Nanny McPhee. Crap, I’m going to become an old haggled woman who watches a bunch of bad *bleep* children for a living.
As I get closer to 30, it is becoming increasingly more difficult to meet men. Seriously, one of the reasons I sit at Starbucks (other than because they closed down Borders) is to meet new people (you know by people I really mean guys, OK, just checking). That is why for the remainder of the year I am stepping out of my comfort zones and putting myself out there. I am doing things and going to places I never would have before. I encourage all women to do it too. Relax and try to enjoy life, don’t become the overworked, undersexed, control freak Hollywood has turned us into. Now, don’t get me wrong my life is not exactly Eat, Pray, Love or Under the Tuscan Sun, it’s more a cross between He’s Just Not That Into You and Confessions of a Shopaholic. Tomorrow, I think I’ll sit at Third World, they have more space than Starbucks and bigger front windows.
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