Tag Archives: prince charming

He Got on the Plane

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say-anything-john-cusackWhatever happened to chivalry? Does it only exist in 80’s movies? I want John Cusack holding a boombox outside my window. I want to ride off on a lawnmower with Patrick Dempsey. I want Jake from Sixteen Candles waiting outside the church for me. I want Judd Nelson thrusting his fist into the air because he knows he got me. Just once I want my life to be like an 80’s movie, preferably one with a really awesome musical number for no apparent reason. But no, no, John Hughes did not direct my life. – Olive Penderghast, Easy A.

And isn’t it too bad that he didn’t?  I wish that movie love scenes were real and that boys really did do these things.  I also really wish my life was set to a soundtrack or had a really awesome choreographed dance scene.  Music makes everything better.  I mean, it can also make things sadder and nobody wants that, but it makes the good moments a little more good and the memorable ones a lot more memorable.  But, back to the point, where is the romance?

Is romance the little gestures or the big ones?

Do you think planning 25 gifts for a 25th birthday, or just simply getting somebody a coffee when they are tired the real gesture?  Is looking at somebody with love in your eyes worth more than a fist-fight in the street?  Is having the decency to text someone back more meaningful than a cross-continent flight?  Is remembering your fourth anniversary better than a private jet to Paris?  You tell me.  Don’t get me wrong, nobody I have ever dated could afford a private jet to Paris, but is love in the big things or the little ones?

I know that I have tried in my own guarded way to show love.  Through thoughtful gifts, gestures, words, personalized breakfasts and daily hugs I have tried my best.  I may not always be perfect, but goddammit, I have tried.  And so have a few others along the way, even jaded old me can admit that.

I once dated a boy who lit a hallway with candles and scattered rose petals to my bed.  I was hand-delivered the ultimate girl-romance moment (cue the song “Kiss Me” now), but I was only 22.  The whole thing seemed a little overdone and awkward if I’m honest.  I have also had the long-awaited regret email, love poetry sent by letter and most shockingly, the vacation fling turned real.  And recently?  I had a young man continually try to put his arm around me 50’s style while walking along a boardwalk…he took deep, satisfying sighs and stared dreamily up into the moonlight.  You know what?  The whole thing was annoying…and FAKE.

But, love, real love should be making a sacrifice, no matter how small.  For years I begged a partner to turn to me and look at me as he sang the Proclaimers 6 simple words “…And I would walk 500 miles…” and he never would…in all our years together he never would.  That small, miniscule act would have meant the John-Hughes-chivalry-loving moments of 80’s movies could come true more than any over-the-top widely inappropriate gesture ever would.

In today’s day and age a text is not enough.  An e-birthday card, a facebook profile pic, a comment on a status update…these things are not romance.  Romance is waiting on somebody’s porch for them to come home – not texting them at 3 am.  Romance is telling somebody they look stunning, not sending a booty call message spelling “come” with only 3 letters and a “u”.  Romance is buying every single lemon baked good you find because it’s somebody’s favourite, not adding them to your circles on Google+.

But, like in the movies, (even the highly realistic ones that know life is not a musical and romance is not a John Hughes movie)….it comes now and again.  You still hear about beautiful proposal stories, men giving up gluten for their intolerant wives and ladies moving across the world to be with their man.  Just the other day a male friend of mine admitted that once he ordered flowers from his florist girlfriend under a false name and showed up to give them to her in person.  Oh, and a tiny sidenote, she lived in another country.  He made me smirk, but he proved chivalry is in fact not dead.  Now, I just need to work on getting him to follow me around with a boombox and start flash mobs often…totally not kidding.

At least that girl got what most of us movie-loving wannabes can only dream about.  But, let’s just say it does give me a reason to still dream.  I don’t expect my life or my love to be perfect.  I don’t expect in today’s busy day and age that I will be on somebody’s mind at all times, but at least a story or two (even sometimes my own) make me realize I can still dream for Prince Charming, even if he is only Charming for a Moment.

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The Ginga Ninja

Heroine or Heroin, They’ll Both Make you Crazy

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joan of arc, redheadIt’s strange.  You sort of wake up one day, after a period of transition, a period of loss, a period of uncertainty and realize…you are okay….as just you.  You are okay alone and you are okay in your own skin.  You don’t know how it happened and you don’t know what was the tipping point – did you need a certain amount of time alone, did you need a certain number of failed dates, did you need a period of loneliness, of grief, of illness or depression to get you here? But, you wake up one day and not only are you okay on your own, but you feel the most secure you have in awhile.  Heck, maybe you feel the most secure you have in …well, ever.

That my friends is where I am.  I felt secure when I was in a functioning relationship and knew that I wanted a different end to my life.  I felt secure when I was getting high grades and receiving compliments for getting in shape.  I feel secure when people are praising my calm demeanor at work or my ability to handle uncertain vacations, car repairs and health problems, but why now?  I actually got told the other week by 4 different people that I was so positive; they couldn’t believe how positive I was.  ME?  Positive?  Say it ain’t so.

I mean, life hasn’t exactly gotten any easier.  If anything I’m making less money and have less love prospects than ever before – the future is uncertain, my job is a mess and my health is only so-so, but for some reason, I feel more ME than…well, than I can remember.

I have always hung onto this little picture in the back of my mind of my happily ever after.  My  version of life that would kick ass.  I have spent countless hours working hard, playing hard and worrying needlessly to achieve this end goal. There wouldn’t be too much hardship, there would be financial freedom, there would be a doting, yet charmingly badass husband who was a lovable, yet stern father and I would find the relationship with my mother I always dreamed of.  I would live in a world where there were no petty differences or misunderstandings, I would have perfect pets that didn’t vomit on my rug,  I would wake up magically a morning person everyday, my job would transition into something that I not only liked, but I excelled at…and all flawlessly, without a stressful moment in sight.

Well, I can tell you my life is nothing like that.  My life is not picture perfect, my finances are not secure, my cat DID in fact vomit on my rug, I’m debating hiring a cleaning lady for a one-bedroom apartment and I don’t know if and when I will ever transition into a money-making venture that lets me act as an entrepreneur and doesn’t provide daily heart arrhythmia.  But, what I do know, is that for the first time in a very long time…not only am I living in the present, but I’m not really worrying that much about it either.

I have a pretty cool gig when you stop to think about how hard life can be and how much I have accomplished on my own.  My loft is pretty kick-ass for my own place in a big city, my 13 year old car keeps trucking like a friend that won’t let me down and somehow I keep stumbling into decent career opportunities whether they spell long-term or not.  My health is on the rise, my problems are often self-induced (aren’t everyone’s) and even though I thought I was finally ready to let love back into my life, for the first time in my life…I don’t know if I need to.

I’m honestly, truly, at least for today…okay with me.  Just plain, simple, little, boring (yet quirky) me.  As sad as it is, that may go down as one of my all time greatest accomplishments.  The day I could genuinely say I was good enough…or let’s simplify that…I am good, or better yet, I am enough.

Sometimes your knight in shining armour is just a douchebag in tinfoil anyways. If Prince Charming is coming, well, he’s running pretty late and Juliet let me in on a little secret, her light at the end of the tunnel?  Well, he turned out to be nothing but a deadend. Maybe life’s greatest love is learning to love yourself.  Or maybe life’s greatest achievement is learning to live with yourself.  She may have died at the stake, but I guess I would take Joan of Arc over Juliet any day. Oh, my girl Joan?  That’s right bitches, she’s a ginger.  So, maybe, just maybe your fairytale ending is….you.

“My life has turned into a giant pumpkin and Prince Charming is very, very late.” –  Brooke Freeman, Shortland Street

The Ginga Ninja

G is for Glutton, G is for Girl

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How often do you give up on dating?  Me?  About once a month.  Hell, probably about once a day.

I find that trying to find yourself can be a difficult thing if you aren’t used to being alone, however trying to know yourself without anybody else can be difficult too. Well, at least if the best version of you actually comes out when you are in a relationship. Oh the irony. Suddenly you have all the time in the world to be whoever you want to be and you aren’t always sure who that is.

I often find that my best version of me is actually the version of me that has somebody else to focus on.  I am organized, I am put together, I am doting, thoughtful, calm and all my affection and effort goes into somebody else’s life. I am more focused, less needy, more confident and less pensive.  But, what happens when they stop giving their all back?

It becomes a battle of being the best version of you who shines when with a partner, or being a version of you that deserves better. Or possibly even worse, trying to find the version of you that can learn to be alone. Or crazier still, the version of you that can learn to be alone and completely content. We all deserve the right partner back, but when does the benefit of having a partner outweigh the uncertainty of being just plain old you?

So, once a month I rule out boys.  I decide I’m not ready to date, or I don’t want to date, or nobody is good enough to date.  I don’t form real crushes that easily and yet I often go through the motions of dating because it seems like the healthy thing to do. Ya right, if guilt over not messaging people back, pushing off drinks, and checking your email a zillion times a day is healthy then I’ll be damned.  But, maybe the healthy thing to do is forget about men altogether.  Their strong arms…their scruffy beards…their warm embraces…

Who am I kidding?  I will continue to date.  I will continue to try to play it cool as a cucumber, but completely obsess when I believe I am being rejected. And though I will have many days, weeks, even months where I think being without somebody is easier…(and knowing I deserve the fairytale)…I may still secretly hope in my immature little girl way to meet somebody to complement me again.  Not just the better me, but maybe for once the best me.

The Ginga Ninja

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Risky Business

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symbolic-cardboard-broken-heart-in-red-lightWhat’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done for love?  Or lust, or like…really, let’s be honest. If we were in the movies, we would say love.  In real life, let’s say it how it is.

But what is considered acceptable human behaviour and what is considered stalker-esque, or one very small step away from that line in the sand?  Frankly, I don’t know. What I can say is that anytime I have taken risk, real honest to goodness risk when getting to know somebody…it has paid off.  Now, the backside of this is that anytime I have taken honest to goodness risk with a past love…it hasn’t.  What is considered crazy and what is considered romantic?

I guess the answer may be dependent on who it is, when it is, and how closely you look at people’s actions as true signs of their personality.  So, is the guy who texts non-stop 24-hours a day really a nutbar?  Or is he simply somebody who hasn’t healed off of his last relationship yet and treats all girls the way he would have treated his ex.  Is the guy that keeps writing through thick and thin and says the most supportive things (no matter how much of a bitch you are) a sweet, simple Prince Charming type of guy, or a sadistic SOB who can’t take the stench of desperation off of him?  And when is it okay for guys to fight for love…to get up on the table, out in the bleachers, shout it from the rooftops kind of love….and girls to be considered crazy bitches for doing the same?

Love is a funny thing.  Risk is a funny thing.  Rejection is a funny thing.  Some people have more trouble sending back a friendly text than others do proposing on the first night they meet.  And who is crazier?  What is riskier?  Is it true that you only live once and what is meant to be will be?  Or does it take effort, risk, a little faith, and a lot of chance.

I just know that coming up with excuses to knock on people’s doors, admitting feelings to a friend, or straight up googling nothing but a first name and the threads of a cock-a-mamy story could be considered crazy. (Crazy like a Fox!) But, on the right day, in the right moment, and with the right person…it could be the best choice you have ever made.  Does anybody really know what tomorrow holds or what outcome their actions will have?  All I know is sometimes risk pays off and sometimes it doesn’t, but those few times it does…won’t it be worth it?

If you are not willing to risk the unusual, you will have to settle for the ordinary. Jim Rohn

The Ginga Ninja

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Don’t Call Me Mr.Right, just call me Ms. Right…

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“Your hair is so gorgeous, your eyes are so big, you have fantastic boobs and don’t get me started on those lips”….words every girl wants to hear coming from the mouth of an adoring guy, right?  Especially when Prince Charming ends up being your new drunk bff that you just met at the gay bar.

Hey, a confidence boost is a confidence boost.  I’ll take it.

Anyways, for all those women out there who really do have perfect teeth, silky hair, legs that go for miles, killer cheek bones, and a rack that makes a queen say, “Damn Beotch”…just keep flaunting it, even if it’s only for you. 

The Ginga Ninja