Everyday

Thoughts that are too long for a Facebook post.

Let me paint a picture for you. A gorgeous young woman, Mary, sobs into her couch pillow after bumping into her ex-fiancee and his new wife Wendy. She says, “It’s a good thing I didn’t marry him. But most of the time I think…I just wasn’t good enough.” Facing her on the floor, a gorgeous young man, Steve, looks at her sad, beautiful face and replies, “No, no, no, you’re wrong. This Wendy…she’s nothing but a poor man’s Mary.”

This is the scene I think about when I daydream about The Wedding Planner. Yes, I said daydream. I love this movie, and this scene captures its essence for me. The idea of being so fucking special, but doubting yourself because you keep getting picked last. And then there’s hope.

Unfortunately, after I think about this quote, I take my blinders off and remember that Steve is engaged to another woman. Mary still has bad luck in love. Why do I even like this movie?

It’s because I am Maria! 

As I’m watching WP for the 31st time, it’s becoming blatantly clear. Maria and I are both gorgeous (take my word for it), inexplicably single women with a passion for family time, silly games, old movies, organization, and men with a nice smile. Our facial expressions will kill you, we probably want to kill you, but we are poised enough to get the job done.

I seriously don’t understand how Mary gets a happy ending, but somehow the movie gods pull it together.

I’m still in the bullshit phase of my life. I know a surprising number of goofy, successful Steve Edison types but, like him, they’re all in relationships. Wedding planner or not, I can’t touch that with a 10-foot pole. But I also have no patience for those persistent Massimo types.

What ending will I have? An arranged marriage to a handsome idiot or a love story with a doctor who just tricked his fiancé into dumping him? Can I get option C?

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