Cinematic Chic

Angst and frustration rushed my face all at once as we filed into the small theatre.
I slowly, drudgingly, forced myself to find my seat, being lectured with each step.
Typical scenario, girl meets guy, they fall in love,
only to find that he is the murderer of all things “chick flick”!
From the moment we glanced over the glowing show times,
I could smell the blood on the horizon.
He objected my every request.
“NO” Australia, Nicole Kidman apparently reeks of romance.
We were forced into a corner, with my rebuttal of all things that dripped sweat and blood.
The end result being the awkward “back-up” pick;
The comedy that inevitably fell short.

My genetic make-up is designed, pre-destined if u will,
to adore the sights and sound of ‘love’ on the silver screen.
Who am I to decline myself of this innate desire?!
“Chick Flicks” have raked in three-fourths of my movie budget since I was old enough to love patent leather pumps, and high-end designers.
I’ve been soothed to sleep on countless nights by romantic comedies, and who hasn’t coaxed themselves out of heartbreak with the ephemeral desire to be “just like them”.
They make me laugh, after I’ve cried through scenes 4-9.
The stories of break-up to make-up; the saga of Carrie and Mr. Big.
It is within these storylines that we find ourselves most enthralled.
Often times, we get ourselves so wrapped up in the extravagant romance, that these fictional dramas become reality television.
“The Notebook” opened the flood gates, as we longed for Allie to retain her memory, just long enough so the romance wouldn’t have to die.
And how many times have we found ourselves yelling for the ice frozen Jack to “wake up!” when the Titanic is steadily crumbling beneath the HD?
These are the times where we shed ourselves of the suit of armor we wear proudly through the day. The only 2hours we have to feel sorry for someone other than ourselves, even if they only exist on the big screen. Just when you think that there are no happy endings, you sit in the darkened theater, oblivious to your date sleeping on the next armrest, and let go that sigh of relief…there’s still hope.