Let's be honest, a girl like me will never fall in love. I mean, I've loved men before, and men have said they love me but I'm pretty sure six months of cheating with a phone call breakup isn't love, and trying to brainwash me into thinking a certain way of life is better than another isn't exactly romantic. So there has been this mutual attraction between myself and a guy, but I don't think love is the right term.
I have this horrible habit that many girls my age might have. I'm sure I'm not the only person that has put their emotions out on a limb, only to have their heart strings severed by a chainsaw. When I was in high school, I crushed so hard. Boys that were nice, smart and looked dashing in khaki pants always seemed to be who I went after. He was always the popular boy, the boy that could get any girl he wanted to, but was too focused on his physics homework or an upcoming football game to really care, or didn't understand what a gem he really was. Realistically, an unattractive, bossy bitch like myself could never get with this guy, but I listened to too many girl power songs, convincing myself that guys like him love that shit. They don't. This boy always ended up with a really pretty friend of mine, or a girl from a different school whose name was on the lips of my schoolmates for weeks.
In college, or as of yet, I have given up on crushes. I have been let down too many times by boys I thought might be worth my time and reciprocate my feelings. Every time I see a man remotely attractive, I literally run away. Some people are afraid of snakes, spiders or sharks, but my biggest fear and phobia is attractive men. You might think I'm joking, but I'm really not. Here's an example...
One time I was sitting in the library all alone minding my own business, studying for an upcoming Chinese quiz. Up the stairs comes this handsome young man in khaki shorts, V-neck and fleece jacket. He has just the right amount of stubble and dark, manly features. The dude is fine. So he edges closer to my table, there is a table of hockey players on my right and an empty table to my left, and the hottie sits right smack dab next to me. My eyes widen, and I'm pretty sure they did one of those Bugs Bunny pop out of my head things. I picked up my BlackBerry (RIP), pretended like someone texted me, grabbed my stuff and left.
See what I mean? I'm a complete and utter chicken. If I ever get over my fear, which is really unlikely, or I ever become attractive enough to be lovable, even more unlikely, this is how I hope it will go down..
I'm 26. I'm living in Santa Monica and I work in downtown Los Angeles, representing NBC Universal as one of their staff attorneys. I wear really cool outfits and have been listed in Forbes "Most Successful Under 30" lists for a record number of years. I have an office that looks over the city and it was rumored that I had a professional relationship with Andy Samberg for a few months.
My boss brings me into her office, notice how I said her. This is the 21st century. Anyway, she brings me into her office and she tells me I need to go to Miami for a reception for Brian Williams's retirement party. Brian and I are close friends, and he mentored me during my God awful few months working in New York. I anxiously leap at the chance and pack my things. Fast forward to the party.
I'm at the Hilton-Miami. I'm wearing my hair back in a loose braid, with a few curls hanging down around my forehead, nude Mary Jane's and a knee length Ralph Lauren dress, on top it's empire waist, navy with small coral polka dots and the skirt is aqua. A string of pearls grace my neck, matching my signature pearl earrings. In my left hand I'm carrying a beige Chanel clutch. Brian hasn't arrived yet and I make my way from the bar to a table, I bump into Anne Curry and we get into a great discussion on foreign policy and the achievement gap when Oprah runs into me, she joins our conversation when I see him.
His name, something classy like Mark or Todd. He's wearing tweed. Momma raised a girl who loves a man in tweed. A light olive button down, sleeves rolled up, skinny black tie and grey trousers. He's about 6'5. He is gorgeous. Oprah squeezes my elbow as I eye him down, nibbling my hot pink straw in the process.
Oprah introduces us. Mark or Todd works as one of the company's lead financial consultants, he manages the budgets for all Greg Daniels television shows exclusively. He grew up in a small town outside of Baltimore. He has that sexy East Coast accent, but as soon as he says the "o" vowel, I know he's spent time in the Midwest. When I ask him about it, he bashfully tells me that he spent his summers working on his aunt and uncle's sheep farm in eastern Montana. Oprah and Anne leave, but neither of us really notice. We talk about how much we love Jason Reitman movies and how our favorite books are either historical biographies/narratives or goofy happy-go-lucky feel good books like Mindy Kaling's Is Everybody Hanging Out With Me. We talk about baseball and how much we both love the game, and how the private university system really did us right.
He's perfect. After two years of courtship, we get married at Cape Cod. I walk down the white vintage rug placed on the sand to the arch made of driftwood, still wearing my pearls. All of my bridesmaids looking gorgeous as usual in their coral dresses. My father's elbow in my left hand, my mom and I with laced fingers in my other, I walk down to my soon-to-be husband in his grey suit, smiling. After readings from close friends, family and Ellen DeGeneres we're officially husband and wife. We spend the night in the bottom of a light house dancing to our heart's desire. The next week, we fly to Capetown and spend our time in luxury and safari with the Mandela family.
After a year of marriage, I give birth to our beautiful twins, Giada Barbara and Grant Ronald. Like their father and myself, they spend their school year in sports and extracurricular activities and their summers working on the farm. We have family vacations with the Kardashian-Jenners and dinners with Ina Garten.
Our life isn't perfect, but its good. We eventually retire to Boston in the company of my parents and his family.
A dream is a dream is a dream.
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