I’m a strong believer that if you spend your whole life focused on how terrible your life was growing up, you turn out to be an adult in your 30s that never actually grew up. Most people blame their parents for what’s wrong with them- commitment issues, relationship issues, daddy issues, just fucking issues. It’s an expensive and pointless habit. I don’t blame my parents. That’s too obvious, mine are nuts. Divorce, affairs, illegitimate children- that’s fine, we all have that. (right?) I’m way more realistic; I blame people like John Hughes and Rob Reiner for what’s wrong with me. 16 Candles and When Harry Met Sally have done irreversible damage to my perception of reality. Love is only real if it’s impossible, ridiculous, and painful- because it all works out in the end. Deep inside my rational brain lives a crazy woman. This woman believes that somewhere in between Jake Ryan and Harry Burns will be her best friend, and after years of hilarious banter, hijinxxx and embarrassingly failed relationships they will find themselves at the end of a long beginning with each other… and live happily-ever-after.
Not until a recent conversation with one of my (few) girlfriends about a new unhealthy crush, did I realize the most egregious offender of my idea of normal behavior. “Oh my god. You’re like Julia Roberts, in every movie.†Then something clicked, or spun, or I don’t know, but JULIA ROBERTS, you bitch. I would never consider her my idol or role model, but she has inadvertently crawled into my brain when I wasn’t looking and ruined everything.
This morning I started watching My Best Friend’s Wedding because nobody was around and realized that my friend was right. Julia Roberts taught me at a young age that it’s okay to be an unrealistic lunatic, and messy with people, and unstable. I mean, has anyone even seen Mystic Pizza? Homegirl thinks the rich guy she’s dating is cheating on her, so she goes ahead and dumps barrels of seafood via pick-up truck into his convertible that happens to be in the parking lot of the restaurant that he’s enjoying dinner… with his sister. Crazy… and, well, awesome. (Also in that movie her younger sister has an affair with the dad of the children she baby-sits for. That did not go unnoticed.)
Back to MBFW, are you kidding me? It doesn’t even end in her favor and yet she is still on top. After all of the insanity, devious mischief and grand movie moments, you are somehow led to believe that it could happen in real life- and I did believe. I drank the friggin Kool-Aid and fudged the ending so that the salty attitude, big haired, chain smoker wins. I can’t believe it JR, you really got me. I am so pissed at you.
YEAH RIGHT, Julia Roberts, yeah right.
shit.
