Well, this post started after I watched the latest episode of “Sood Sanaeha”, the Thai soap I’m following.  Long story short, she finally sees what has been in front of her this whole time, and decides to nab the Chef.  The Chef walks away after her big scheme to apologize to him.

I was actually cheering for the Chef.  Good for you for leaving that manipulative, selfish, whiny bitch!

(Well, this is not the finale. Although to me, it’s a perfect ending right there!  Karma is a bitch, bitch!  But this is Thailand, expect a few more episodes of  the scheming to get him back.)

It then dawns on me, oh my god. There is NO MAN on the planet like that guy!  I mean, he actually tells this bitch he thinks she’s perfect to him despite all of her flaws?  He actually LOVES this narcissistic, kniving crybaby?!?!  Seriously!?!?

I love the lovey-dovey thing he’s been doing since he realizes he had fallen for her while she floats around completely oblivious to his suddenly undivided attention.  I hate the fact that we are now fed the image of a perfect man…who doesn’t exist at all.

Hi. I’m Oakley. I am a romantic comedy addict. AND a romantic comedy hater. All at the same time.

I love a good romantic comedy once in a while.  Some of them I can watch over and over again. Even Brandon starts to recognize them because I would stop and watch whenever they are on TV.

Part of me still wants a tall sexy French man to tell me I don’t have to fly anywhere and take me back to the stone cottage on a vineyard.

To go to a pub after a break up and get pissed on Grolsch and meet a funny bloke who quotes Monty Python…then chop off my hair and start my own company, all the while getting over the break up and learning to enjoy life and love again with said funny bloke.

To follow all the signs that lead to that one true love I met randomly a long time ago on one spectacular evening in New York City.

To be loved by a boy for who I truly am despite the fact that I’m a major movie star.

To have a hunky roommate who actually has been trying to show me what the world is really like while I hide behind a theory of why some men are jerks, but yet he is there to catch me when I come to my senses.

To have someone who manages to fall in love with me just by talking to me on the phone and still love me despite the fact that I am not the gorgeous tall blond he thought I was but a nerdy short brunette.

To meet some guy by random chance who adores me even though I seem to be making all the mistakes like breaking his Rayban and his camera, AND still has feelings for me after 2 years of being abroad.

And to realize that what I want for Christmas is, well, you.

[ Oh yeah, name those movies, get some kudos. Leave your answers in the comments.  (Hint: One of these you may find some clues in recent posts.) ]

In other word, deep down inside I still want to dream that big crazy romantic dream of getting swept off my feet and living happily ever after.

But then again, reality is different than fiction.

I guess–no, I know–I am bitter that romantic comedy doesn’t work in real life.  And then I hate romantic comedy for putting a veil over the eyes of young girls everywhere about what love should be like, setting all of us up for disappointment later on.

Hey, I was once the citizen of Planet RomCom too.  It took many years, several heart breaks, and lord knows how many gallons of tears to realize that life and relationship is NOTHING like the movies.

I know a few people who still wait for Mr. Darcy (both Jane Austen’s and Bridget Jones’) and keep throwing away opportunies or perfectly good relationships because it didn’t fit what they have in mind.  You know, how it should be on Planet RomCom.  They’re miserable for that.

It’s back to that Team Jacob v.s. Team Edward conversation we had recently.  Do you want something real or do you want something to swoon to?  I chose the practical love I can rely on with not a lot of swoon factor.  Hence, the stack of romantic comedy I have around the house.

I guess swooning is like a drug.  Once in a while you need a fix. And since we can’t be 16 again to get the full effect of raging love hormones, we go to our “dealer” and get a romantic comedy.

So, scoot on over, darling.  Tonight, I need me a little “Pretty in Pink”.

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