I'm sitting in an airport because, well, I got here slightly early with 3+ hours to kill. First off, had a beer, had a BBQ burger, browsed the iPad, chatted with some older ladies fascinated by the iPad and now I'm at the gate, patiently waiting to get on a 5+ hour flight to take me home to my kitten. Clearly, I have some time to reflect on the weekend I just had. What was the weekend? Well, to keep it simple, its purpose was to explore a potential relationship with someone, a.k.a. complicated Latvian man-friend. It's a pretty big deal to travel across the country to just "explore" a relationship. And now that I have a moment to reflect and realize I just flew across the country for a maybe, I'm brought to the conclusion that we as emotional human beings will go to quite any extent to find happiness, even though there may have been plenty of signs pointing to no. You would seriously think that getting to the airport and learning that no matter what, the flight you were booked on won't let you on or buy the ticket because you don't have the credit card of the purchaser on you (and you just waited 2 hours to hear that with less than an hour to catch another flight), that it's probably not meant to be, but the blinding thing about happiness and the pursuit of happiness, is that you'll do just about anything to see if it exists in what you want it to exist in. So $700 later, you got on a flight and still made the journey, even though fate told you again, it's probably not the best idea. We just don't want to give up on the idea that happiness exists in the purest form of love, trust, respect and emotional connectivity. Who would want to give up on the idea that those qualities can exist in your human counterpart? Money stops being an issue if you truly believe happiness is on the other side.
Now looking back, I find it interesting that I was so caught up with the idea of the "someone." I had concocted all of these thoughts in my head and created the perfect world of potential. Sure, I still had doubts, but all my doubts were resolved with a positive spin (in my head at least) by a conversation and hearing everything I wanted and needed to hear. I told myself to believe and give it a chance. There's nothing wrong with that right? You won't know unless you try is how the saying usually goes. Unfortunately there's usually no way to make whatever you have going on in your head come true. It really comes down to the basics and it probably helps to get to know someone a bit more before you decide it's a good idea to fly across the country to explore something even more.
Now, I won't put blame on the someone, because that would be too easy. My idea of the perfect man / counterpart is clearly mine and I can't really fault someone for not living up to my expectations. There is, of course, disappointment, but surely it's because going through the motions of building an idea in your head, is what will get you in the end. Can you blame someone for not asking you the questions you want to be asked? Can you blame them for not answering the questions you ask in the way you want to hear them? Probably not. Though I do think it's entirely possible that all questions, though answered, may never result in the full answer, even though they are seemingly responded to. Don't we all try to keep some things secret? It's safe to say it can be uncomfortable answering questions about sensitive topics, but if you don't open up, aren't you setting yourself up for forever being guarded and emotionally unavailable? I know myself and my avid inability to openly serve up personal information and feelings (though I definitely like to think I can if the moment is right) and it's probably not the best thing to try to pursue a relationship with someone with the same inabilities and who isn't great at asking personal questions. So I guess I should be relieved right?
While I do think I am relieved and I do know we're not compatible in a relationship, it's still a little bit of a let down because I wanted to believe there would be a happy ending, at least for the time being. Even though it's not a tragic ending, it's just sort of a flatline...nothing particularly eventful or heart wrenching, but just sort of an end to a waffly beginning.
So what did I learn? I learned I really need to weigh out everything first and fully understand what decision I'm about to make and what my own expectations are. Live and learn right? You won't know unless you try. So perhaps that was my miniature rapture. The world didn't end, my world didn't end, but nothing really began either.
Good time for a little Temper Trap and one of my favorite songs from them:
22 May 2011
10 February 2011
Why Text Dating is NOT OK
We all use it. It's great, it's easy, it's convenient. It's texting. It's the neat little ping that arrives on your phone with a message from your friend, your boy/girl friend, a family member, or some SMS program you signed up for and forgot about (always a let down message if you're waiting for something special or at least more amusing than a branded message about 20% off something you don't need). Texting is great. When you're in a crowded bar and can't hear anything, it's so much easier to switch from your call to a text when you're inviting your friend to come join you. When you're going to a friend's place and you almost forgot the directions, you can just text them and then they're right there, easily accessible so you never have to forget where to go. Texting is great for a multitude of reasons. If you really just need a quick answer on something, a text will be a lot faster than a phone call (because heaven forbid you have to deal with AT&T's dropping calls problem in heavily populated metropolitan areas). It's also great at those times when you can't make a phone call, like being in a long boring meeting or stuck in a lecture hall bored out of your mind. But, there comes a time when texting as a communication solution is NOT ok. I repeat, it is NOT ok. This brings me to the subject of this entry, text dating.
Let me define text dating for you. Text dating is essentially dating a person through text messages. You never actually hear their voice, you rarely see them, you do the online chatting whether it's through AIM, Bonjour, gchat, Facebook, Skype, or any other digital medium you know well for real time messaging and maybe you email, but dear god, you will get 100s of text messages from this person, all of which make you wonder, why the hell are you wasting my text messages? Just CALL ME. I've spoken to two girlfriends recently about this, and we all agree. There comes a point when holding a conversation over text messages is just silly and more annoying than anything. After a while, it just becomes a bit dull and you feel like you're talking to a sterile, pre-defined wall that knows what answers to spit out. There's no phone call hesitation, no breaths, no tone (besides assumed tones which just get you into ALL sorts of trouble), it's just words on a screen. Now those words on a screen can be sweet and make you go, "awww," but then you realize, why the hell didn't this guy just pick up the phone and call me to tell me that? Yes, I'm categorizing this as a boy initiation.
Boys. Boys boys boys. We love them, we hate them, we like them, we want to slap them, we just want them to understand that girls with all their complexities can still be pretty easy to figure out if you just try, just a wee little bit. Now to me, when a guy wants to initiate a conversation with "Hey" over a text message, my first thoughts are, "Really, you wasted one text message just to type 3 letters." O_O Not ok. My response clearly now has to be a question, because OF COURSE, the boy could not ask a question in his text conversation initiation, he couldn't just start by asking how I am, what I'm doing, if I found a new love of rolling in the grass, oh no, there couldn't possibly be a question in that first text. So you do the small talk and what not, because you can't just jump into the serious stuff. You have to waste at least 20 more text messages before you start needling at more interesting questions. When you finally do get to the serious part of it, your thumbs hurt, you're thinking, really? why can't you just call me? is it that hard? Giving me carpal tunnel is a better alternative? Apparently! Because he keeps going! Now here, I'm sure someone can interject and ask, well why doesn't the girl just call him? And granted, you counter arguing nincompoop may have a point there, but in the trials and tribulations of like and love, it's the guy's job to call first. Take a stand. Don't be a coward. Just do it, we'll appreciate you more and won't talk smack behind your back because we think you don't have any balls (or perhaps a sensible brain) to hold a real conversation.
Yes, I'm harsh, but with good reason. I've fallen into the text dating situation one too many times and now that I see it becoming a trend, it just makes me hopelessly sigh that the amount of men out there with balls are dwindling away. Now granted, there are some situations when the text dating is ok, but those situations usually fall into digital dating where phones don't exist or computers with microphones aren't available so your only form of communication is through the written word. Fine. But for those with active cell connections and clearly enough money to spend on an unlimited texting plan, I, and many, many other ladies are going to expect more from you.
So with this faux holiday of love upon us, boys, I implore you, do your girlfriends, your ladies on the side, your love interests a favor, and just call her. Call her to say, "Hey," call her to tell her you think she's amazing, call her to ask her if she's found a new found love of rolling in the grass, just call her, even for a couple of minutes. Relinquish your fear of the hour long conversation, because you're not obligated to it, all you have to do is just use this fabulously non-modern form of communication to just say something nice and for god's sake be honest with yourself and don't chicken out on being open with your emotions. You might get turned down, but it could be worse, you could've have not even tried.
So since the big V-day is upon us, I give you a mushy love song (and yes, it's country).
Ok, one more because I love this song:
Let me define text dating for you. Text dating is essentially dating a person through text messages. You never actually hear their voice, you rarely see them, you do the online chatting whether it's through AIM, Bonjour, gchat, Facebook, Skype, or any other digital medium you know well for real time messaging and maybe you email, but dear god, you will get 100s of text messages from this person, all of which make you wonder, why the hell are you wasting my text messages? Just CALL ME. I've spoken to two girlfriends recently about this, and we all agree. There comes a point when holding a conversation over text messages is just silly and more annoying than anything. After a while, it just becomes a bit dull and you feel like you're talking to a sterile, pre-defined wall that knows what answers to spit out. There's no phone call hesitation, no breaths, no tone (besides assumed tones which just get you into ALL sorts of trouble), it's just words on a screen. Now those words on a screen can be sweet and make you go, "awww," but then you realize, why the hell didn't this guy just pick up the phone and call me to tell me that? Yes, I'm categorizing this as a boy initiation.
Boys. Boys boys boys. We love them, we hate them, we like them, we want to slap them, we just want them to understand that girls with all their complexities can still be pretty easy to figure out if you just try, just a wee little bit. Now to me, when a guy wants to initiate a conversation with "Hey" over a text message, my first thoughts are, "Really, you wasted one text message just to type 3 letters." O_O Not ok. My response clearly now has to be a question, because OF COURSE, the boy could not ask a question in his text conversation initiation, he couldn't just start by asking how I am, what I'm doing, if I found a new love of rolling in the grass, oh no, there couldn't possibly be a question in that first text. So you do the small talk and what not, because you can't just jump into the serious stuff. You have to waste at least 20 more text messages before you start needling at more interesting questions. When you finally do get to the serious part of it, your thumbs hurt, you're thinking, really? why can't you just call me? is it that hard? Giving me carpal tunnel is a better alternative? Apparently! Because he keeps going! Now here, I'm sure someone can interject and ask, well why doesn't the girl just call him? And granted, you counter arguing nincompoop may have a point there, but in the trials and tribulations of like and love, it's the guy's job to call first. Take a stand. Don't be a coward. Just do it, we'll appreciate you more and won't talk smack behind your back because we think you don't have any balls (or perhaps a sensible brain) to hold a real conversation.
Yes, I'm harsh, but with good reason. I've fallen into the text dating situation one too many times and now that I see it becoming a trend, it just makes me hopelessly sigh that the amount of men out there with balls are dwindling away. Now granted, there are some situations when the text dating is ok, but those situations usually fall into digital dating where phones don't exist or computers with microphones aren't available so your only form of communication is through the written word. Fine. But for those with active cell connections and clearly enough money to spend on an unlimited texting plan, I, and many, many other ladies are going to expect more from you.
So with this faux holiday of love upon us, boys, I implore you, do your girlfriends, your ladies on the side, your love interests a favor, and just call her. Call her to say, "Hey," call her to tell her you think she's amazing, call her to ask her if she's found a new found love of rolling in the grass, just call her, even for a couple of minutes. Relinquish your fear of the hour long conversation, because you're not obligated to it, all you have to do is just use this fabulously non-modern form of communication to just say something nice and for god's sake be honest with yourself and don't chicken out on being open with your emotions. You might get turned down, but it could be worse, you could've have not even tried.
So since the big V-day is upon us, I give you a mushy love song (and yes, it's country).
Ok, one more because I love this song:
17 January 2011
Les fantasmes de la télévision
I gave up cable late last year for a couple of reasons, a) it's expensive and I hate giving Comcast more money than they actually need, b) the number of "quality" (guilty pleasures don't fall into this category) shows on standard cable (this excludes Showtime, HBO and all those other channels you have to pay extra for) is about 1%, c) the amount of time I've wasted being sucked into the tube, instead of reading, cleaning or doing something a lot more productive, is more than I would like to admit (TV show marathons are, oh so, evil), d) the delusional lives characters lead in even the most esteemed quality of shows is so far from any reality it leaves itself being so misleading and so much an overly absorbing fantasy that it leaves one (well, me at least), way too hopeful of a nonexistent lifestyle.
Although I hate to admit it, I still watch my corny television shows. The internet leaves a consumer without cable, i.e. someone like me, with entirely too many options to watch TV shows -- it's "pirated" streaming (who knows these days anymore, hence the quotation marks), Netflix, Hulu, and oh so many other resources. It's really difficult to cut complete ties with this addiction to watching fictional lives (and I'm going to include the Real Housewives of Everywhere in this category, because seriously, that shit ain't real) of characters who are developing their personalities' strengths, weaknesses, unique qualities and their overall paths in life. There's something about escaping into someone else's fabricated world that makes me, and about 90% of the rest of America (because that's why Americans are fat, lazy and watching 10+ hours of the boob tube a day), craving more. Now while I'm taking steps to break away from getting sucked into more unnecessary fantasy lives I don't need to know about, I'm still having a difficult time giving up my go-to's that I started watching before I cut ties with the cable box. This includes It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia (this show, BY NO MEANS, falls into the fantasy life category, it's just hilarious and brilliant and the best goddamn show on the damn tube), Top Gear (also doesn't count), Grey's Anatomy, Private Practice, Glee, Rescue Me, Real Housewives of...New York, Atlanta, Orange County, eek, New Jersey aaaand, Beverly Hills (gah, don't judge, I've cutback, I swear), and while I've always found my way to watch certain Showtime shows including, Californication, Weeds, Dexter and now Shameless, Entourage (non-Showtime obviously), and maybe some others I can't think of off hand. What is it about these shows that have us coming back for more?
Take for instance an oldie, but goodie, Sex and the City -- it's one of my all time favorite shows and I watch it when I'm in need of overdue girl time, relationship therapy or if I want to compare how small my shoe collection is to that of Carrie Bradshaw's. With this show, I'm drawn to the fashion, OH THE FASHION. All the unattainable Chanel, Givenchy, Dolce & Gabbana, Alexander McQueen, Prada, Dior, Cholé, Yves Saint Laurent, Vivienne Westwood, Lanvin, Valentino, Kate Spade, Manolo Blahniks, Jimmy Choos, Christian Louboutins, god, you name it, the fashion, the sheer AMOUNT of fashion is endless in this show. In reality, there is absolutely NO WAY, that a 30-something writer for a newspaper, not even the New York Times, just the New York Observer (not even the Post or something!), lives in a chic New York apartment in whatever fabulous neighborhood as the same as Barneys, goes out to endless amounts of cocktail hours and dinners at the chicest of chic NY restaurants and has the spending leeway to splurge at Saks, Barneys, Bergdorfs, on thousand dollar dresses, hundreds of dollar shoes and handbags worth the $5k bracket. It just doesn't work that way, unless said person is a trust fund baby with Daddy's/Mommy's credit card and expense account OR they married some fantastically self-made millionaire (lets hope he/she is also not a hedgefund baby) and thus has money to burn. Seriously though, credit cards don't go away, nor does rent, health insurance, incidentals or life in general. So while the fashion on it's own is already an indication of a fantasy life, the show goes on develop upon the love lives of four ladies in their thirties. They go on dates dressed to the nines for often times amazingly attractive or sometimes adorably attractive men, they gossip, dissect and contemplate each prospect, they have endless amounts of amazing sex (all orgasms included, for the most part at least, or otherwise there is some hilarity involved if not) and then if they get hurt, there's some fantastic therapy session involved to make it all better. Would these, or do these rather, scenarios play out in the real world? Seriously though, do they? I've never really been near a situation where something remotely related to this type of fantasy life could blossom. Sure, I have my shoes, they're ALL paid for in full except for one pair which I'm currently paying off ($100 for $565 Just Cavalli shoes won't break the bank and yes, I really did need them), but I own no wildly expensive haute couture designer dress, nor do I have an endless calendar booked with dates with fantastically attractive men, I just live my life, day to day, in a job where I find myself dissatisfied (not complaining, still working on the next move), but with friends I love that I always feel I never see often enough, family I adore and a sister I never get sick of seeing (her hubby is bundled in with the never sick of seeing, 1 becomes 2 with marriage! and not in a bad way of course), a home, including the kitten, I love despite its price tag, a car I love just as much despite its monthly payment, but there's always something missing. The mere idea of life falling into place with the career, home, love life would be great. Sure I'm young, but TV shows like Sex and the City aren't helping me realize reality, which is why it's probably a good thing that I haven't watched it in over a year.
So Sex and the City is an extreme when it comes to the material (clothes, apartment, dining, etc.) and relationship department, but there are shows out there which don't even stress on the materialistic consumerist cravings, but still manage to depict a fantasy life to some extent. I just finished watching Season 1 of the British version of Shameless. The American version is just starting and already, with the first episode, I was completely absorbed and wanting more. This story portrays a broken family with 6 children, a missing mother and a drunken, government scamming father, all of who live in a small house with quite limited means where everyone pitches in to make ends meet. From this description, in no way does it sound like a fantasy life. No one actually wants to be poor, have a father who is brought to the house late a night only to pass out in drunken state in the middle of the floor, and try to keep a family of 6 children of various ages straight. If this were the mere focus of the story and no other characters were incorporated, you would think, well that's not anything near a fantasy. BUT, the minute you incorporate the boy meets girl, OH MAN, the fantasy starts. Never, never ever, is there a moment where a guy sees a girl at a club, is too shy to buy her a drink, but then sees her again a month later at another club, only to attempt a chivalrous move of chasing down the thief who stole her purse (and then punch out the bouncer for not doing his job) and then woo her into going to her home and proceed to turn on the charm full blast where she falls for him (obviously) and then thereafter, they blossom into having a healthy relationship. Really? Who are we kidding. For one, what guy actually does that for a girl he's never met? The days of love at first sight are oh so far away and even lust at first sight, who does that?? But say, this guy actually does exist, girls are generally suspicious of any guy trying to put on the moves, despite how "knight in shining armor" it is, and in their right mind wouldn't invite him home to their house containing 5 other younger family members. I mean, come on, who are we kidding. Only in TV does this sort of scenario take place and that, right there, is a fantasy. Men will love the show for it's raunchy nature and occasionally crude, yet witty humor and women will like it for the same, but then, there's the fantasy element where we go, "Aww, that's so sweet! Look how he just does that and oh look, they're going to hook up and then he's going to charm her and send her a washing machine and prove he's a legitimate guy and wake up spooning." WHO DOES THAT. No one I know and if there is some guy out there that actually reenacts this scene wholeheartedly without ever seeing the show, I'd like to meet him and possibly send him to a shrink. Maybe I'm just cynical. Cynical about relationships especially because that department has never been particularly lucky for me (I'm still optimistic, it'll all work out...I'll swoon and find myself foolish for writing a blog entry such as this...my cynicism about love will evaporate and all will be bunnies and roses and rainbows. ok, maybe not the latter, but you get my point). Even with a completely dysfunctional family at the forefront of a show, we still have the fantasy.
This is why I'm trying to break away from TV. It's not to say I can't get my fantasy fill from other sources -- there are cheesy romantic comedies, even solemn movies have the element of fantasy, books, old school books (helloooo Pride and Prejudice), and the memories that haunt us. Everything around us can eventually turn into a fantasy, a long lost dream, an escape. And while I can't hate TV too much for giving content that's entirely too unrealistic, I still can try to distance myself from it and only resort to it when I really feel the need to indulge, so I can continue to focus on what's actually real -- bills, career, relationships and life in general. We can use the fantasies to fuel the healthy of our imaginations, but too much indulging will leave us delusional and wishing too much for a life that can't possibly exist (and heaven forbid if we try to reenact such life...can you imagine your credit card bills if you tried to be Carrie Bradshaw? and no, not even selling every article of clothing you have to pay off your debts like in "Confessions of a Shopaholic" is anywhere near reality).
It's difficult to live life realistically, but it's even more difficult to believe in a life so wildly unrealistic that you'll end up failing yourself and your perception of life in the long run.
I leave you with Yelle's, A cause des garçons. Oh those damn boys.
Although I hate to admit it, I still watch my corny television shows. The internet leaves a consumer without cable, i.e. someone like me, with entirely too many options to watch TV shows -- it's "pirated" streaming (who knows these days anymore, hence the quotation marks), Netflix, Hulu, and oh so many other resources. It's really difficult to cut complete ties with this addiction to watching fictional lives (and I'm going to include the Real Housewives of Everywhere in this category, because seriously, that shit ain't real) of characters who are developing their personalities' strengths, weaknesses, unique qualities and their overall paths in life. There's something about escaping into someone else's fabricated world that makes me, and about 90% of the rest of America (because that's why Americans are fat, lazy and watching 10+ hours of the boob tube a day), craving more. Now while I'm taking steps to break away from getting sucked into more unnecessary fantasy lives I don't need to know about, I'm still having a difficult time giving up my go-to's that I started watching before I cut ties with the cable box. This includes It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia (this show, BY NO MEANS, falls into the fantasy life category, it's just hilarious and brilliant and the best goddamn show on the damn tube), Top Gear (also doesn't count), Grey's Anatomy, Private Practice, Glee, Rescue Me, Real Housewives of...New York, Atlanta, Orange County, eek, New Jersey aaaand, Beverly Hills (gah, don't judge, I've cutback, I swear), and while I've always found my way to watch certain Showtime shows including, Californication, Weeds, Dexter and now Shameless, Entourage (non-Showtime obviously), and maybe some others I can't think of off hand. What is it about these shows that have us coming back for more?
Take for instance an oldie, but goodie, Sex and the City -- it's one of my all time favorite shows and I watch it when I'm in need of overdue girl time, relationship therapy or if I want to compare how small my shoe collection is to that of Carrie Bradshaw's. With this show, I'm drawn to the fashion, OH THE FASHION. All the unattainable Chanel, Givenchy, Dolce & Gabbana, Alexander McQueen, Prada, Dior, Cholé, Yves Saint Laurent, Vivienne Westwood, Lanvin, Valentino, Kate Spade, Manolo Blahniks, Jimmy Choos, Christian Louboutins, god, you name it, the fashion, the sheer AMOUNT of fashion is endless in this show. In reality, there is absolutely NO WAY, that a 30-something writer for a newspaper, not even the New York Times, just the New York Observer (not even the Post or something!), lives in a chic New York apartment in whatever fabulous neighborhood as the same as Barneys, goes out to endless amounts of cocktail hours and dinners at the chicest of chic NY restaurants and has the spending leeway to splurge at Saks, Barneys, Bergdorfs, on thousand dollar dresses, hundreds of dollar shoes and handbags worth the $5k bracket. It just doesn't work that way, unless said person is a trust fund baby with Daddy's/Mommy's credit card and expense account OR they married some fantastically self-made millionaire (lets hope he/she is also not a hedgefund baby) and thus has money to burn. Seriously though, credit cards don't go away, nor does rent, health insurance, incidentals or life in general. So while the fashion on it's own is already an indication of a fantasy life, the show goes on develop upon the love lives of four ladies in their thirties. They go on dates dressed to the nines for often times amazingly attractive or sometimes adorably attractive men, they gossip, dissect and contemplate each prospect, they have endless amounts of amazing sex (all orgasms included, for the most part at least, or otherwise there is some hilarity involved if not) and then if they get hurt, there's some fantastic therapy session involved to make it all better. Would these, or do these rather, scenarios play out in the real world? Seriously though, do they? I've never really been near a situation where something remotely related to this type of fantasy life could blossom. Sure, I have my shoes, they're ALL paid for in full except for one pair which I'm currently paying off ($100 for $565 Just Cavalli shoes won't break the bank and yes, I really did need them), but I own no wildly expensive haute couture designer dress, nor do I have an endless calendar booked with dates with fantastically attractive men, I just live my life, day to day, in a job where I find myself dissatisfied (not complaining, still working on the next move), but with friends I love that I always feel I never see often enough, family I adore and a sister I never get sick of seeing (her hubby is bundled in with the never sick of seeing, 1 becomes 2 with marriage! and not in a bad way of course), a home, including the kitten, I love despite its price tag, a car I love just as much despite its monthly payment, but there's always something missing. The mere idea of life falling into place with the career, home, love life would be great. Sure I'm young, but TV shows like Sex and the City aren't helping me realize reality, which is why it's probably a good thing that I haven't watched it in over a year.
So Sex and the City is an extreme when it comes to the material (clothes, apartment, dining, etc.) and relationship department, but there are shows out there which don't even stress on the materialistic consumerist cravings, but still manage to depict a fantasy life to some extent. I just finished watching Season 1 of the British version of Shameless. The American version is just starting and already, with the first episode, I was completely absorbed and wanting more. This story portrays a broken family with 6 children, a missing mother and a drunken, government scamming father, all of who live in a small house with quite limited means where everyone pitches in to make ends meet. From this description, in no way does it sound like a fantasy life. No one actually wants to be poor, have a father who is brought to the house late a night only to pass out in drunken state in the middle of the floor, and try to keep a family of 6 children of various ages straight. If this were the mere focus of the story and no other characters were incorporated, you would think, well that's not anything near a fantasy. BUT, the minute you incorporate the boy meets girl, OH MAN, the fantasy starts. Never, never ever, is there a moment where a guy sees a girl at a club, is too shy to buy her a drink, but then sees her again a month later at another club, only to attempt a chivalrous move of chasing down the thief who stole her purse (and then punch out the bouncer for not doing his job) and then woo her into going to her home and proceed to turn on the charm full blast where she falls for him (obviously) and then thereafter, they blossom into having a healthy relationship. Really? Who are we kidding. For one, what guy actually does that for a girl he's never met? The days of love at first sight are oh so far away and even lust at first sight, who does that?? But say, this guy actually does exist, girls are generally suspicious of any guy trying to put on the moves, despite how "knight in shining armor" it is, and in their right mind wouldn't invite him home to their house containing 5 other younger family members. I mean, come on, who are we kidding. Only in TV does this sort of scenario take place and that, right there, is a fantasy. Men will love the show for it's raunchy nature and occasionally crude, yet witty humor and women will like it for the same, but then, there's the fantasy element where we go, "Aww, that's so sweet! Look how he just does that and oh look, they're going to hook up and then he's going to charm her and send her a washing machine and prove he's a legitimate guy and wake up spooning." WHO DOES THAT. No one I know and if there is some guy out there that actually reenacts this scene wholeheartedly without ever seeing the show, I'd like to meet him and possibly send him to a shrink. Maybe I'm just cynical. Cynical about relationships especially because that department has never been particularly lucky for me (I'm still optimistic, it'll all work out...I'll swoon and find myself foolish for writing a blog entry such as this...my cynicism about love will evaporate and all will be bunnies and roses and rainbows. ok, maybe not the latter, but you get my point). Even with a completely dysfunctional family at the forefront of a show, we still have the fantasy.
This is why I'm trying to break away from TV. It's not to say I can't get my fantasy fill from other sources -- there are cheesy romantic comedies, even solemn movies have the element of fantasy, books, old school books (helloooo Pride and Prejudice), and the memories that haunt us. Everything around us can eventually turn into a fantasy, a long lost dream, an escape. And while I can't hate TV too much for giving content that's entirely too unrealistic, I still can try to distance myself from it and only resort to it when I really feel the need to indulge, so I can continue to focus on what's actually real -- bills, career, relationships and life in general. We can use the fantasies to fuel the healthy of our imaginations, but too much indulging will leave us delusional and wishing too much for a life that can't possibly exist (and heaven forbid if we try to reenact such life...can you imagine your credit card bills if you tried to be Carrie Bradshaw? and no, not even selling every article of clothing you have to pay off your debts like in "Confessions of a Shopaholic" is anywhere near reality).
It's difficult to live life realistically, but it's even more difficult to believe in a life so wildly unrealistic that you'll end up failing yourself and your perception of life in the long run.
I leave you with Yelle's, A cause des garçons. Oh those damn boys.
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