Today was a pretty good day. We went to see Love Actually in the 2 dollar theatre (which makes me happy, I hate spending money). I really enjoyed it. The beginning and the end were a bit too much, but I really liked the middle. It was sappy and unrealistic, but fun, and all the men in it were absolutely gorgeous. Plus, there was that one guy that had the AMAZINGLY hot pants. AMAZINGLY hot. I poked lisa until she laughed at me. It's not my fault I have an obssesive relationship with pants. I really like the way they hang, if they're done right. I dunno, I just do. (speaking of pants, my favorite old ones, the $10 gap jeans, have finally given way. The hole in the seat (which ripped in marcos' room that night, while I was talking about art with the not!boy) has widened to immodesty, the hole in the knee continues to enlarge, and the rip up the side seams grows longer every day. Soon the paperclips will not be enough to hold it together. All in all, this situation makes me very sad, as these are my very favorite pants. Rather than give them up entirely, I may resort to hanging them upon the wall as decoration.)
Anyway. The movie. I think that possibly I am ill-prepared for life. Movies and books and music have done wonders for my romantic expectations, and no matter how hard I try to be cynical about my future, it just doesn't work. I don't think it helps that my parents are still happily married after 26 years. Also, it doesn't help that I was so head over heels for my first boyfriend, and that he was so great. I think I have unrealistic ideals, and that no guy will ever be able to live up to them. Maybe I should be single for a while. And yet, I really enjoy boys, and I like having a boyfriend, and I like dreaming about crushes, and planning, and flirting. I'm not sure I am ready to give that up, even for a short period. At the same time, I enjoy movies and music and Georgette Heyer romance novels, and I would never give those up either. The solution? I'm not sure. I feel this is a cultural problem, and I am not the only one suffering. Maybe I'll pretend to be a player, figure out how to attract endless streams of guys who are looking for short-term relationships, and then enjoy the flirting/first dateness of it all, and then pleasantly leave them, and move on. Yes. I think that is indeed the answer. Except I feel like I should find a husband, especially a rich one who will support me in the manner I have become accustomed to, as I will probably never have a well paying job. Hm. Maybe I should just keep waiting for prince charming number 2. I'm sure he's out there somewhere. And by somewhere, I mean St. John's. And by prince charming number 2, I mean someone to have fun with, who will like me, make me laugh, and accompany me both to waltz parties and chasement dances. And possibly also be musical, as I seem to have a fatal weakness for guys who can sing to me. (matt! and dave, actually. not that dave ever composed songs for me. *hugs matt*)
anyway. I guess I shouldn't start worrying. After all, I am still 18. When I'm 20, that's when I'll start worrying. ; )
sorry for the long rant. I have a sore throat and an upset stomach, and this is both distracting and amusing. Sucks for you though.
