Saturday, May 14, 2011

the downfall of chick flicks

men are a bafflement to me. the way their minds work. how sex is just sex. how a kiss is just a kiss. it boggles me.
i was conversing with several men who have kissed {or more} two {or more} girls in one night. or over 100 in 2 years. how is that even possible? it is beyond me.

and then, i went and saw something borrowed with two of my favorite girls. 
which really, is darling. and hilarious. having the read the book, i had to see the movie, because that's the way things go.  btw the soundtrack rocks. 

anyways.
my point being: chick flicks ruin you. 

because no man is really like that. 
highly attractive, proper, well-dressed, perfect hair, and the most deceiving-- sincere and not a huge douche bag. the big screen gets you all discombobulated with reality to the point that you end up thinking illogical things, like maybe it would be a good idea to tell a boy how you feel, yata yata yata.
during the movie i was all a-flutter thinking that perhaps i was not just another girl {to a certain boy}. maybe this one instance he would come around and say the perfect thing, and whisk me into a kiss, and we would be oh so happy.

ridiculous.
that's what that is. 

are these the bitter diatribes of a single woman? i'm hoping not, but maybe you're thinking such a thing. i'm just laying out the truth: chick flicks are too good to be true, because men {at least the ones currently in my life} are morons. 

and yet, i still love them. men. and the chick flicks.
and i still have that unquenchable hope that one day my life will parallel a romantic comedy. not so much the story line {chat rooms are creepy i.e. you've got mail} but the cute moments. 

curses!
i hate being a romantic at heart.

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