RomComs

Up until now,it was my belief that a Romantic Comedy is fully equipped to solve all of life's problems. Let's face it. What's not to love about pretty people,flattering lighting,a tried and tested plot and a happily ever after?
Call it an overdose or simply post breakup psychobabble,but i've recently noticed that ye olde RomCom has lost a little bit of its charm for me. Yes people,the bubble has officially burst.
For example,have you noticed how,if you watch an extremely emotional,he-is-about-to-propose scene on mute,its less likely to draw sighs of lovestruck satisfaction from you? And also,who looks that perfect waking up at 3 am to answer the door? Even as the protagonist agonizes over the chaos that is her night face,you can't help but ask yourself, is that pink lipstick on her? And mascara? And don't even get me started on the just-got-out-of-bed-messy hair look. For one,IT AIN'T MESSY SISTA',so cut the whining.

Now for the female protagonist stereotype. There are quite a few:

1.) The naive young girl who has recently got her heart broken but is in reality quite the quirky,clumsy and charming one. Don't tell her though,for we have a guy coming in before intermission to do just that.

2.) The badass. This one is totally hardcore. She hums indie songs,wears a lot of kohl,makes fun of guys just like that and gives 'love' the finger. She is independent and needs NO ONE,as we are reminded over and over again through her single gal awesomeness. Oh,and she uses sarcasm as a defense machanism cuz behind that hard exterior,lies a simple,bruised soul just waiting to be loved and protected by someone who 'understands' her.

3.) The independent,professional woman. This is the modern twist on the average nerd,people. In a bid to cash in on the craze that is gender equality, the female protagonist is dressed up in high heels,butt hugging skirts,a sleek do and black rimmed glasses. No,this isn't your librarian porno fantasy playing out. Its the 21st century,self sufficient,fast talking,control freak aka a no nonsense,no time for love,very much in control,super smart boss person. She rocks the office front but goes home to her cat in a lonely apartment. This of course,before she meets 'the one' who teaches her to 'live a little'. And she promptly changes from anal to all fun.

4.) The spoilt brat. She is mostly seen in pink,at parties and in bare minimum. She goes 'wooooo' at the drop of a hat. Make that a g-string. She has a buffed up boyfriend who could be a Ken lookalike..but wait! She still wants more! From life,silly. So oneday,she packs her Louis Vuittons and sets out. Several dumb blonde moments later,she meets a nerdy dude who totally gets her,despite her,erm,lack of a cerebellum,and he decides to intellectualise her and she realises she is worth SO much more than daddy's mansion. So she dumps the stud of a bf,dumps the sidekick and drives away to a rosy future,hand in hand with nerd boy.

And in all four cases..she lives Happily Ever After! :)

Perfection really,if only this hadn't been reality land. And while RomComs have the key to love for all girl types (as listed above),what happens to the girl who is all of the above?
Because,we aren't just one person. The truth is,there is a bit of a rebel,a bit of a nerd,a bit of substance and a whole lot of dumb blonde in all of us.

So then,who is the perfect guy for an imperfect girl?

Don't look at me.
What do i know? :|

Facebook.

There really never will be anything quite as awesome as the first "pssst! update undie color to spread breast cancer awareness and don't tell the boys" plan,so pathetic posers who've been spamming my inbox,Give Up!

Also,
damnit FF,you have me hooked.
Luff your blog 11/10.

Confessions.

I have decided to come clean and embrace all things hackneyed,old school and comforting.

#1. The love of pink.
Okay,so i was going for a darker shade, but come on! What's not to like? It's pretty and *drumroll* kind of cute. Plus,the ultimate proof of girliness. Besides,9 times out of 10,the people most against the color are posers afraid of being tagged a sissy and hence the dire need to prove that they are tough.

#2. Shopping.
It's fun. It's therapeutic. It's new clothes. And it does not mean you are the epitome of shallowness who has lost the sublime meaning of life,being caught up in the fad that promotes filling the deep dark void that is your life through mindless trips to the land of temporary escapism that is the mall. That's just some myth made up by fat people who feel shitty asking for a double XL in public. YOU shop away!

#3. Love songs.
Who doesn't have a song? You know you like them. So you wouldn't be caught dead listening to Celine Dion (oh,SO 90's) in public anymore. But know this much: If you have an overdose of sap in your i-pod,you are not alone.

#4. Barbies.
Name ONE little girl who didn't go all starry eyed at the sight of pink perfection every time she passed a toy store and wrote religiously to Santa,asking for one every Christmas,and i will plead guilty.

#5. Letters.
Not the ones typed out in ms-word. The real deals - Handwritten,stamped and posted. It's old school and personal. And way more effective than generalized emoticons. Like finding treasure in your mailbox!


It isn't easy admitting you are sappy,predictable and cliched. Because everyone wants to be this season's gladiator heels. But once you do,it's like slipping into an old pair of down at heel slippers: Oddly comfortable.

Shopping,anyone?

Relationships are like clothes.

So you're walking down the street,happily humming some song from that independent girl band,going all "I'm perfectly fine on my own..blah blah..i need NO man" when suddenly you see it.
That perfect dress. In that shade of gorgeous purple. And you KNOW it's for you. You KNOW no other chick can do justice to a dress like that! I mean,have you seen the embellishments? That sparkly aura that draws you (and only you) to it?
And before you know it,you've walked past the swinging doors,past the firm resolution that you need your bank a/c to recuperate after your last fated meet with that (oh! so awesome) perfect fit pants and voila! You're in!

And that beautiful piece of intricately cut fabric is a perfect fit!
And that satin against your skin! Sublime!
And everybody in the store tells you,you two look fabulous together. Yes! Perfection itself.
And you get that shiny,happy feeling at the pit of your stomach that this is it! You need nothing else,absolutely nothing else to make you happy.
And yes,the dress is yours.
And suddenly,the world is a better place.

Your first night out together,you turn heads. You know that patent leather boots that skinny chick is wearing is beckoning,but you don't care.
You love your dress!

But a month later,summer's over.
And the dress is no longer enough.
And that sparkly aura,you suddenly realize,has lost it's sparkle.
And it's bursting at the seams.
And it's slowly retracting to the back of your closet.
And you're cold.
And there's autumn-winter collection to look forward to.



And before you know it..that beautiful cashmere coat you've glanced at,is yours for the taking.
And you know it's not right. You know your bills are way over due.
But you can't help it.

For that coat will get you through winter.
And yes,you are no longer cold.

Cake.Yum.

My name is Post it and I'm a RomComaholic.
I admit.
I'm a sucker for happy endings.
For all things that give me butterflies,make me reach for my tissues,binge on low fat ice cream and in general add to the "One day,i'll meet the One too" feeling.

And yes,i believe in soulmates.

I firmly believe that all events in a person's life- right from "damnit! The toast always falls buttered side down" to the n-the heartbreak courtsey Mr. Right Now- all lead up to that one, absolutely magical, drumroll moment when,y'know, you meet your Harry.
Or Sally if you please.

But here's a thought-

What if I'm wrong?

What if this feel good factor that the entertainment industry taps in on to make cheesy movies and corny novels out of to cater to the masses is nothing but a smokescreen?
A scam to exploit our absolute happily-ever-after infested gullibility and help us kid ourselves till we're 40, single and suicidal.
And then visit the shrink.

What if all the sunshiny talks of true love is just that?
Talk.

Besides,what happens when i do find the One?
Hell! How do i know who he is?
Does an alarm go off in my head?
Will a sappy love song start playing out of nowhere as i bump into my knight in shining armour at the departmental store?
Is there really a "dum di DUM" moment that'll clue me in on my "right guy,right here" situation?

And then again,what guarantee do i have that i haven't let go of my soulmate already?
What if i did meet him,tagged him as yet another passing phase, and moved on?
Or worse.

What if my soulmate is a Siamese cat?
Or,Brad Pitt?

Plus,aren't cynics always telling us to suck it up cuz love is overrated?
How, it's the same feeling as biting into one's favorite cheesecake cuz the brain releases the exact same chemicals or some such similar BS?

There you go.
Problem solved.

Who needs a man anyway?
I can bake.

Art.

They say sex is a form of art.
That it gives expression to the soul.

Beautiful words really,if only i didn't have a totally disturbing image of a paint by numbers book i had as a kid.
Which got me thinking..

If sex is an art, who's to say what's genius and what's trash?

Then there's the tricky matter of understanding abstract art.
And cartoons.

And what about the people who were never born artists to begin with?
Do they take the help of paint-by-numbers or do they go with their gut?
Are they laughed at or are they ahead of their times?

Do we pull a Renoir? Or maybe a Dali?
Or do we go ahead and find a different genre altogether?

What happens when we mess up? Do we use more paint or do we start over?

How do we know the line between beautiful and boring?
Between original and pretentious?

And exactly what is the yardstick against which we've been pitted?
Who is keeping track?


Which makes me wonder-
Who are we kidding?

We're as clueless as the guy who has smudged his picture of a farmhouse as did a maestro with his self portrait.


So then,what IS art?
For want of a better word,
Undefined.

Comfortably imperfect

Playing Minesweeper on the computer and bonding with mum over mounds of chocolate may sound as pathetic as spending V-day with a cat, but I loved every moment.

Okay, so there wasn’t that euphoric, tingly all over, waiting for magic to happen feeling like the other times.
And maybe I’d anticipated something more.
The old “happy happy birthday” from K maybe, to make the whole of last month seem like nothing more than one of those sinking déjà vu moments.
And maybe I’d like the joy of waking up to presents wrapped in shiny paper, back.

But for now, an ‘experimental’ cake, mashed gulab jamuns and the world’s best Mum for company does the trick.

Note to self: Maybe the tingles aren’t important.
Maybe the people who give them to you,are! :]