I regard romantic comedies as a subgenre of sci-fi, in which the world operates according to different rules than my regular human world.
Are you ready to be the leading lady of your love life? Do you want to begin your “happily ever after” starting tomorrow?
With this handy new guide, NOW YOU CAN! For a limited time Valentine’s Day offer, I’m releasing a free excerpt of my forthcoming self-help book, From Plucky Comic Relief to Main Romantic Interest in 30 Days (Pre-ordering available soon). I’ve dedicated half of my life to exploring how Hollywood has provided all the answers to life’s hardest questions about love: “What should I wear?” “Will he like me?” and even the classic, “Should I bring a burger in my purse in case the line at the restaurant is 2 miles long because it’s Valentine’s Day?” Fret no longer. Below, I’ve compiled some of the best nuggets of wisdom romantic films have taught us over the years. You’ll have him saying, “As you wish” like Westley before you know it.
In a nation that was proud of hard work, strong families, close-knit communities and our faith in God, too many of us now tend to worship self-indulgence and consumption. Human identity is no longer defined by what one does but by what one owns.
-President Jimmy Carter
The original title for this post was “Minimalism: I watched a Netflix documentary, read a few blogs, and now, I’m an expert” but I decided to minimize it to simply “Minimalism.” for obvious reasons.
“The U.S-Mexican border es una herida abierta where the Third World grates against the first and bleeds. And before a scab forms it hemorrhages again, the lifeblood of two worlds merging to form a third country — a border culture.
Borders are set up to define the places that are safe and unsafe, to distinguish us from them. A border is a dividing line, a narrow strip along a steep edge. A borderland is a vague and undetermined place created by the emotional residue of an unnatural boundary. It is in a constant state of transition. The prohibited and forbidden are its inhabitants.”
― Gloria E. Anzaldúa, Borderlands/La Frontera: The New Mestiza
These days, my idea of living dangerously is going grocery shopping without a list.
-Someone on the internet
I already shared this story on Facebook, but I thought the event was humorous enough to repost on here. Enjoy!
“Tell me what you see,” he said.
“Okay. There’s a pole about 10 ft. in front of us, and behind the pole, is the ocean,” she responded calmly.
“Yeah the ocean. It’s big and all around us. I think the sun will be setting soon too.”
“Oh, is there a beach?” he asked and gripped his white cane a little tighter.
“No, not really,” she said. “Between the pole and the ocean there’s a bunch of big rocks that lead down to the water.”
He breathed deeply and felt the ocean breeze play with his hair. Then, he put his arm around her shoulders. “Tell me what you see.”
“I see you…”
And he leaned in for a kiss.
I thought about naming this post “Great Expectations,” but I didn’t want to deal with angry, disappointed Dickens groupies, asking about ruin in the Victorian novel.
But this post IS about expectations. Here’s a tale as old as two years ago, during my “wild” college days in Buenos Aires. The story has all the makings of a mediocre film: late night adventures in a foreign city, a charismatic group of friends, and a chance at love.*