When I pulled up Blogger, I fully intended to talk about the usual stuff. How Jess and I watched Billy Madison and ate a pan of Rice Krispies Treats to chase our burrito bols, the lung-busting hilarity of last night when Sebastian and I attacked each other with sticks of butter, how I posted a video on fiveawesomegirls. But there's something about having a laptop that makes me feel like Carrie Bradshaw, and I can't fight the urge to throw my hair in a bun, eat imaginary ice cream out of a carton, and lean over Microsoft Word pensively. I feel like I should write up funny, revealing vignettes about my friends' adventures with sex and the city, and ask some kind of deep, unanswerable question in a large font.
Well, I'm no Sarah Jessica Parker, but in my little suburban corner of the world, I've been thinking about the writing of love stories.
In Tuesday's BlogTV show about relationships, John Green mentioned that most love stories, while entertaining and sweet and interesting, are either about stalking, or promote some seriously twisted ideas about love. The story begins after the big airport kiss, and a happy wedding ending is both unrealistic and insulting to those in real, human love. Someone in the chat also pointed out that for as often as love stories begin with hating the other person, in the healthier tales, the ones rarely told, they like each other all along. The chat was moving too quickly to effectively get a word in edgewise, but I couldn't help think, What about Shakespeare, John? Jane Austen, anyone?
I decided to take matters into my own hands. I've begun rereading one of my favorite books of all time, Pride and Prejudice, in hopes that I'll discover some kind of latent formula that makes a love story go from a cliche to a home-hitting classic. A prime example of what both John and the viewer consider to be unrealistic, it's a wonder that P&P is so true to so many generations of people. Maybe it's the exception to the rule. Maybe it's due to brilliant characterization, and since most women relates to Lizzy, most women are willing to believe that the whole ordeal could happen to them.
Unfortunately, I haven't reached any life-changing conclusions as of yet. I'll keep my eyes open if you will. Along with being the first record of one girl's passionate battle to consume fifty high-calorie burritos in a year, maybe this teenybopper blog will be the first to crack the mysteries of human emotion.
Or, you know, I could just link you to this corny Jonas Brothers video I keep watching. :-p
Sexy: Those awkward, dark-haired Christian brothers in weird little outfits. I don't care if Nick Jonas is two years younger than I am (we have the same birthday!) or if that makes him a legal minor. First opportunity, I'd go pedo for a Jonas.
Unsexy: The repulsion and guilt that accompany realizing one's attraction to the Jonas Brothers.
Chipotle burritos this year: 25
S'mores this summer: 6
Bye, guys! Hopefully I'll see you tomorrow. <3