Thursday, January 12, 2012

Blogging because my virtual office is down.

Working in a virtual office obviously has its perks: pajama-heavy work wardrobe, limitless smoke breaks, couch desk, bad tv as background noise, the ability to play word games on my phone between writing articles, passing gas whenever I need to, not even having to wear pants if I don't feel like it...etc.

But it also has its downsides... when the office has a connection problem and I can't pull any stories.

This is one of those moments.  So I've decided to update the 'ol blog while I wait...

So, I'm easily swayed by fiction.

Maybe it's because I'm a writer or because I have a very active imagination, but there are times when I watch tv or see a movie and think, "Dude...I want that moment."

I guess you could also chalk it up to the fact that I'm...and I have a hard time admitting this publicly for some reason...but, I...I'm...I'm kind of a hopeless romantic.

Hold on...let me explain that before I go on...because, well, because I'll feel better about it.  (I'm about to try to remove all the sappiness out of something inherently sappy.  I like a good challenge...obviously.)

I don't know if it's technically that I'm a hopeless romantic, it's just...I like great moments.  Sure, some of these "moments" would fall into the category of "romantic" in a traditional sense, but others not so much.  For example, cooking dinner in the kitchen while my son does his homework and having a fun, memorable conversation with him that's filled with laughter--that's one of these moments. 

Or imagining building our annual snowman with him later on this weekend and coming inside for hot cocoa and a movie.
See?  Not really romantic.  More like endearing.  So perhaps I'm more hopelessly infatuated with endearing moments and not simply "romance."
But then...then I get these other ideas of moments that are, indeed, sappy and romantic. 

Like this one:

I first got it into my head while watching an episode of Sex and the City (first of all, shut it.  It's not a bad show, really.  Some parts are ridiculous, but it's entertaining.  And as a thirtysomething, I can relate to some scenarios. I will admit, I roll my eyes at other's a delicate balance, really). 

Are those mix CDs? I would hope so.
So anyways...the episode...right.  In the episode, Carrie went to visit Mr. Big as he was packing to move away.  He pulled out a Henry Mancini record with a version of "Moon River" on it, put it on the record player and they danced, barefoot in the living room.

And as I sat on my couch, clad in pajamas, eating chocolate, with a cat on my lap and a mud mask on my face...I thought, "Gee whiz.  THAT is awesome.  I want to do that." (Except, instead of Mancini, I'd listen to Van Morrison and Otis Redding.)

Okay, wait...that was my second thought.

My first thought was, "I am sitting on the couch, clad in pajamas, eating chocolate, with a cat on my lap and a mud mask on my face...watching Sex and the City...30-something has officially happened.  Shit just got real."

But then I had that second thought.

And I don't know, the sweet simplicity of it just hit me somewhere where I keep my girly-girl stuff tucked away.

I mean, actually, I tend to find the best moments are the ones that are unconventionally and unintentionally romantic/endearing.

But then there are those textbook cases, like slow dancing to Van Morrison barefoot in the living room, that remind me that no matter how random and weird I actually am...within me lies a girly-girl that is undeniably part of my DNA make up.

And it makes me laugh a little...these silly little notions I come up with sometimes.

Because on the flip side, I find sitting on the couch watching and laughing at Beavis and Butt-headto be an equally romantic, endearing...and obviously awesome...moment, too.

I know, right?  I'm such a freaking dichotomy.

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