winkgirl4's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Another glass of bubbly, please... Romantic scene in movie: two (soon-to-be) lovers are sharing their prelude to a sensual, romantic night by standing on the balcony of (a) one of their exquisite bedrooms (because all bedrooms where romance occurs has to have a balcony) or (b) their penthouse hotel suite. They are silhouetted by the moon and the stars while making toasts to their expectant night of slow, passionate love-making with their flutes of champagne. All thats missing is for the director to animate a sparkle in one of their eyes.
And I"m thinking, WHO, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, DOES THIS???
Yes, yes, I know- we all try it. At some point or another we think that we can "wow" our partner with a romantic evening, so we buy the strawberries and the champagne and we crawl to the back of our cupboards- behind the Tupperware tumblers our grandmother gave us and the mismatched souvenier glasses from McDonalds- and we find those dusty flutes we thought made us look cool and sophisticated in college. We light the candles. We fluff the pillows. Hell, we might even go so far as to put clean sheets on the bed. But, when its all said an done, does it ever really go off like in the movies? Once you get between the sheets, I don't know what to tell you. Either you shine or you don't. This could either be your saving grace (like it is for me.... hahahahha) or it could just be another step in this downward spiral of hope we call "Romance." Then, (IF they stay the night) how many people see that little, silver tea cart waiting at your bedside in the morning, laden with croissants and orange juice and fresh-picked strawberries- all served, mind you, on silver trays and crystal glasses? Ive stayed in some rather nice hotels but the truth is, your continental breakfast is served on the same plates they serve your midnight snacks on, covered with that three inch thick asbestos-looking cover thats intended to keep your Jimmy Dean sausages and redi-mix eggs warm. Your glass of orange juice is served in a glass identical to the one you had to unwrap to rinse your mouth after brushing your teeth. And these are hotels that DON'T make you go to the counter to check out the iron. Better yet, some of these have the wooden hangers that actually detatch from the rod in the closet. We're talking swanky.
At best, my romantic nights have me yelling from the kitchen, Theres wine on table. You could pour me a glass if you wanted. At worst, hes into his third beer before dinner is served and once the laboriously cooked meal is placed on the table his forth CAN will sit there beside it.
While none of us actually believe that there are men who walk to the curbs in their terry-cloth bathrobes to get the newspaper every morning while their taffeta-wearing wives stand in the doorway with a piping hot cups of coffee, we all want to dream that well have that someday. And while those days occasionally happen (birthdays, mothers days, the day after he accidentally found himself in bed with another woman) we arent silly enough to think that every Saturday morning will find us waking to the warm sun creeping in our bedroom window, hot coffee and a fresh made breakfast lay on the corner of the bed on a tray designed by Martha Stewart. When it comes down to the bottom line, we have all been hypnotized by the sound of the clinking glasses in the movies. And, while, I have just enough of a romantic streak that I like a little frou-frou every now and then and am just cynical enough that watching some of those scenes in movies actually make me cringe, Id be lying if I said that I dont hope for it thats its still my silly, little girl dream. 1:30 p.m. - May 24, 2006 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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