The Great Romantic Comedy
Rarely do I get stupid and girly, especially when I watch romantic comedies (mostly because I hate them. HATE them). However, tonight, after getting a mani/pedi and settling onto the couch with a big bag of popcorn, alone, I discovered that HBO on Demand is now playing the GREATEST romantic comedy of all time: Fever Pitch.
I. Love. Fever. Pitch.
There, I said it. I LOVE FEVER PITCH!
Ten seconds in I was off in a dream-land, thinking of how I wish my life would play out like that: attractive, type-A, balls-to-the-wall blonde meets cute, shaggy haired nerd boy with an amazing sense of humor and an unruly obsession for one of the greatest sports teams in the history of man kind.
Holy. Crap.
None of this hometown girl shit, none of this best friends getting married, or finding the prostitute with a heard of gold crap.
Shaggy hair. Baseball fanatic.
Bring. It. On.
My one problem with fever pitch is that I change my mind halfway through. First I root for the type-A blonde chick, then I go off-the-walls insane when he starts talking about selling his tickets. What a fucking idiot. I mean, really. What a total douchebag. Sell your Red Sox season tickets?
This guy suddenly turns into the biggest ASS, the worst male on the face of the earth and goes from Awesome Guy All-Around to Pansy Ass Mother-F$#$% in the course of one sip of beer and 4 lines of crappy dialogue.
Luckily it all works out in the end.
Girl realizes that baseball is more important than anything.
Guy makes funny joke at the last moment about the texture of the outfield.
The Red Sox win the series.
I always get choked up at that point, remembering sitting on my couch alone that October I lived in LA, a few beers tossed back, a few slices of pizza, screaming at the TV, tears running down my cheek, my father calling, tears running down his cheeks, us screaming over and over again DID YOU SEE THAT DID YOU SEE THAT OH MY GOD OH MY GOD!
Wait.
I'm sorry, was this supposed to be about roses and mani/pedis?
Somewhere I seem to have gotten a little distraced in this "girl role." Who am I supposed to play in this Rom Com, again?
I. Love. Fever. Pitch.
There, I said it. I LOVE FEVER PITCH!
Ten seconds in I was off in a dream-land, thinking of how I wish my life would play out like that: attractive, type-A, balls-to-the-wall blonde meets cute, shaggy haired nerd boy with an amazing sense of humor and an unruly obsession for one of the greatest sports teams in the history of man kind.
Holy. Crap.
None of this hometown girl shit, none of this best friends getting married, or finding the prostitute with a heard of gold crap.
Shaggy hair. Baseball fanatic.
Bring. It. On.
My one problem with fever pitch is that I change my mind halfway through. First I root for the type-A blonde chick, then I go off-the-walls insane when he starts talking about selling his tickets. What a fucking idiot. I mean, really. What a total douchebag. Sell your Red Sox season tickets?
This guy suddenly turns into the biggest ASS, the worst male on the face of the earth and goes from Awesome Guy All-Around to Pansy Ass Mother-F$#$% in the course of one sip of beer and 4 lines of crappy dialogue.
Luckily it all works out in the end.
Girl realizes that baseball is more important than anything.
Guy makes funny joke at the last moment about the texture of the outfield.
The Red Sox win the series.
I always get choked up at that point, remembering sitting on my couch alone that October I lived in LA, a few beers tossed back, a few slices of pizza, screaming at the TV, tears running down my cheek, my father calling, tears running down his cheeks, us screaming over and over again DID YOU SEE THAT DID YOU SEE THAT OH MY GOD OH MY GOD!
Wait.
I'm sorry, was this supposed to be about roses and mani/pedis?
Somewhere I seem to have gotten a little distraced in this "girl role." Who am I supposed to play in this Rom Com, again?
posted by AllDeTime at 8:56 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home