Posts Tagged ‘envy’

h1

don’t take it personal.

December 15, 2009

I apologise for not having blogged in a little bit.  Real life has kinda taken over, and if you follow me on twitter (please do!!! – I have my latest tweets on the right —> ) then you’ll have an idea why.  Basically, although I’ve been open that I’m slightly envious of the fact that Mike likes someone other than me, and that other person seems to like him back (although there are marriages, children and mixed signals thrown into the mix), I’ve been handling it pretty well.  Yep, that’s right, you spotted the past tense.  Well, I’m handling it well again now.  But we had our Christmas meal on Friday night, and I might have got a little bit paranoid and possessive.  Allow me to elaborate.

Mike & me are HBICs on our course.  We do more or less everything together, we are friendly with everyone and everyone knows us as the smokers / naughty guys talking dirty at the back of the class / dedicated and working in the library on the sly / fun and easy to talk to / the ones who organise the social events on the course.  The third person in our equation is someone Mike noticed early on, but has only been included in our circle the last few weeks.  I knew that Mike was developing feelings before he admitted it to me, but it is still hard to accept.  I know he’s a straight married man, but what does a not-stunning 33-yo woman with 2 kids, an overly-possessive husband and an average wardrobe have on me?  Ok, she is a lovely lovely person, and admittedly has sparkling blue eyes and a shapely butt. But I’m 24, I apparently “look immaculate” (Julie), am “very pretty / beautiful” (Mike!!! and others), I can sing, dance, write and produce my own music, I smoke, play piano and guitar, I’m quite intelligent and “articulate” (Leanne) and “really good to talk to and understanding” (Penny, Emma, Mike).  What the fuck more can I do?  How many more hoops do I have to jump through?  I’m missing the point.  Sexuality is sexuality, although I firmly believe that although you can definitely be instantly attracted to physical traits, ultimately the body is the wrapping and the gift is the person inside (I mean that not in a sexual way, but in an emotional / spiritual / personal way).  Somewhere along the line, he’s my best friend but he doesn’t see all of who I am – otherwise if he has feelings for the woman, he certainly would have feelings for me as we share a good heart and a love of innuendo.  I’m going over old territory here, but although he’s my best friend at university and I utterly cherish that, sometimes it’s maddening that I can’t have more.

Anyway, I admit I’ve been a bit envious.  But I’ve also been more than there for him as much as I can, despite my own feelings for him (which he knows about).  The day of our Christmas meal, I was feeling extremely nervous and on edge, despite telling myself that they are adults, they can do whatever they like and it’s not my job nor my place to keep them apart.  I felt that I didn’t want Mike to be regretting anything the next day, that I might be a bad friend if I let him down by not keeping him rational, and that I would have my heart hurt in the process.  I played “Russian Roulette” multiple times, since that song, those lyrics and the whole Rated R album seem to be the story of my life right now, and nervously arrived at Mike’s house.  For a while I felt fine – we got to the restaurant, Mike said that after we went for late-night drinks and conversation the night before he was feeling more balanced about it all, I was confident and happy.  But then she eventually arrived, I felt the focus slipping away from me, I ended up having a lot to drink (note: 5 sambuca shots in one go is never a good idea), and then my hitherto good handle on the whole situation (which admittedly I had been managing pretty well, considering it’s a lot to bear) flew out the window.  I had to corral our whole group (who were splitting off in various directions, somewhat annoyingly – again I blame the alcohol!) into BSB on Corn Street, and then no matter how much I danced, smoke or drank, I couldn’t help but keep looking back at the two of them chatting in the corner.  In short, I was driving myself crazy, and Mike knew that I was really tense.  Apparently I said a couple of not-so-nice things about how little I trusted her (the drink talking, not that that’s an excuse), and I was dashing on and off the dancefloor and in and out of the club like a crazy person trying to keep my emotions and sanity in check, and then failing miserably.  I didn’t offend anyone, I didn’t do anything stupid or say anything revealing – I even managed to cover for the two of them when an observant Jenny remarked “how close they are… I wonder if they like each other?” (my reply – “Nah, we’re all just close friends” before linking my arm through Mike’s).  I am a good friend and my heart was and is in the right place.  But that night, my head was not.  More than my own envy or my own feelings, I wanted to be a good friend to Mike and stop him from doing anything he would regret in the long term.

At the end of the night me and Mike were walking back from dropping Jenny and her at the car park, and we had a little talk.  I was in a very bad mood, and it took me a while to work out why.  I called Mike to apologise for my mood, and he said it was ok, and I offered to explain what it was tomorrow.  First thing next morning, he texted me to ask how I was and why I had been feeling down.  I explained, he said I didn’t have anything to apologise for and not to worry or think so much. (For the record, “don’t think so much” is an astute but lousy piece of advice!!!)  I felt silly all weekend, but I thought that things were going to be ok and I was looking forward to seeing him on Monday.  Since I had his house key, I had arranged to give him that back.  Fast forward to Saturday night – Mike isn’t replying to my texts (this is unusual behaviour!), I was feeling fed up, caged at home, and decided to go out with Nick to a party and get drunk.  I had a fantastic time, and although I still had Mike at the back of my mind (or midway, maybe), it was whatever.  Life goes on.

Sunday I was in Starbucks working on my essay, when I get a call from Mike (after not replying to another text of mine telling him I had a crazy dream where we were both mercenaries undercover at an underground Nazi gathering led by Daniel Craig, except Mike was being hunted by the police for drug trafficking… yeah) to ask me if I was at home, and if I could give him his house key.  I had his key in my bag so I met him and his nephew Jack outside Harvey Nichols, handed it over (along with some tobacco, since I had run out of cigarettes on Friday night and smoked several of his rollies… it was also a little bit of an “apology offering”) and we had brief conversation.  Once again, everything seemed fine.  But then in the evening, we had texts which went unanswered, others which were answered and I just didn’t know where I stood.  Obviously I was overreacting, but nevertheless I couldn’t stop my own guilty feelings from colouring my judgement and thinking that I might have ruined our friendship.

Monday comes, I’m talking with Henna outside university when Mike rolls up.  He’s fine, but melancholy.  I apologised, we talked a lot about Friday, but things just weren’t the same.  He seemed glum, I was sad, and although we were talking and spending time together it just wasn’t the same. No innuendos, no physical contact, and at one point he thought I was in a piss with him (when I wasn’t!) and I explained what I was feeling and he said that “although I promised I’d never hit you, if you keep worrying then I will!”  Despite that, it was like our friendship was a shadow of its former self.  I texted him in the evening, but no reply once again.  I felt like I was being punished when I had apologised, been told there was nothing to apologise for and not to worry about it!  I felt like I really was a product of my mother’s emotional fuckery and my father’s control freakishness, and yet I couldn’t stop my brain from over-analysing every little thing (I apologise to Nick, Adam, Nana and everyone else I stressed out to over the past few days – y’all are so understanding and I really appreciate it.  Thankyou. 🙂 ).  I felt so down, that after everything our close friendship had been somehow ruined, that despite my ability to be truly honest with Mike about my deepest darkest secrets and tell him things I can’t remember telling anyone, he couldn’t come correct to me and tell me what the matter was.

This morning I waited for him at our usual block, on edge and feeling sorta upset.  We met up and went to the library, he apologised for not replying to my text (I pretended it was nothing) and the black cloud persisted for a while.  But I soon realised that it wasn’t to do with me – in fact, I was the only person he could spend time with but still be honest about his moods.  I didn’t press him, but I realised that his home situation was really getting him down.  I offered him reassurance, friendship and a hug where appropriate, and tried to give him space.  As the day went on, we perked up (despite the fact we were writing an essay!) and I felt finally reassured that I still had his friendship, and that I can’t be responsible for him always being in a good mood, or for him being down.  His being sad makes me feel sad for him, but however much I might drink on a night out or however much guilt I feel, I can’t hold myself responsible for his moods, no matter how good friends we end up being.  I learned that I really do take things too personally, that I can’t turn my brain or heart off however much it might be convenient sometimes, and that I can be someone’s best friend but I can’t stop them from making a mistake – all I can do is be there for them, give them space to breathe and a shoulder to lean on when they need it.  This weekend was an emotional rollercoaster for me, but it wasn’t without its lessons and I try to take that away from it.  Drinking and love doesn’t mix, and you can only hide your heart under a façade for so long before it nevertheless starts to chip. Now I’m repairing myself and we’re all taking a deep breath and gradually going back to normal, and that’s a relief.  But I promise not to forget what I’ve learned this weekend, and I appreciate (once again) my friendships so much.

h1

brokenhearted.

December 2, 2009

How do you stop your heart from breaking?

Ok, I might be being a bit melodramatic.  Basically, I did what I said I would never do, and after some other revelations, the time was right to tell Mike how I have been feeling about him.  Because of certain things, I was almost positive that he would take it well, and I tried to explain it in the right way – basically that more than simple sexual chemistry (though there is some of that too!), there’s such a strong friendship bond and attraction there. I think he’s amazing and I admire him so much.  He’s probably not the best looking guy in the university, and he’s 11 years my senior, but he ticks all my boxes, if you like.

Of course, he took it maddeningly well and was really flattered, but also understood (he is a dream friend, and he’s coming to the tattoo parlour with me tomorrow).  He said that if he were available (i.e. not straight and not married), it would be me and him, and he also said that if he were available, chances are that I would not like him in the way that I do! I don’t know if that’s true – it’s all “if only”, and as much as my whole feelings for him are based on “if only” statements, there’s not much to be gained from pondering that overly much.  I understand why I look up to him so much – he’s got a loving wife and a beautiful little son, and he has common sense and decency as well as a fit body (he’s putting weight on but he carries it well).  I could go round and round in circles explaining how much he means to me, but basically whenever I’m not around him, I miss him and wish he was there. Although I don’t always feel it, I guess I’m quite an independent and capable person and sometimes that gets a little draining, and I know that he could look after me and keep me safe and it would be ok not to be 100% together around him all the time, because he understands me and he understands life.  On a very human level, we really do click.

There’s only so much I can say on the next bit, in the (extremely unlikely) event that the wrong person reads this, but Mike likes someone else more than he should.  And that someone else seems to like him a little bit too.  I could see it coming, and I’m not surprised.  Nothing is going to happen, because of marriages and families and love and loyalty, and I am 90% sure that nothing will happen.  After all, we said that these feelings will probably pass (although not quickly enough in my case) and it will all be fine – there’s no sense in ruining relationships both within the people on the course, and the families of those people.  But now my jealous streak is coming out, silly as it might be.  For two reasons: a) I saw Mike first, he’s my best friend and nobody else’s.  We connected first and we are the leadership couple (HBICs, if you like).  Nobody is coming between that.  But more importantly (this is the heartbreaking bit), b) even if I had a chance, in an alternate universe, I am not the one Mike would choose.  This isn’t news to me – he’s a straight married man.  But however much I already knew this, and however much he says “If I were gay / if you were a woman, you’re so gorgeous and amazing that I would be so into you and you would be so out of my league, you wouldn’t give me a second glance!”, it hurts me.  That now, I have this added role to make sure nothing inappropriate happens between them. Just in case the world tips on its axis and they can’t stop themselves (again, extremely unlikely), now I have to do it.  And all the time, I’m sitting here (and Mike now knows this is the case!) with my own feelings and heart and love (yeah I said it) and I have to be the rational one, all the time thinking “even if you were going to give into temptation, it wouldn’t be with me. Why can’t it be with me?!??” It’s simple sexuality, and there’s nothing I can do about it, but it breaks my heart that even in a million years, it would never happen for us.

Obviously, this makes things easier for me in the long run, because I’m not going to have to restrain myself that much because I know that it would never happen. (I have a feeling I’ve said that phrase quite a lot in this entry – I apologise!)  I’m single, a free agent, and I don’t have anything at stake.  But fuck the long run – this is me right now, and right now I am having these intense feelings and desires and although they’re totally inappropriate, I can’t help them and I can’t help the admiration that I feel, nor the fact that whenever we’re not together, I call out for him and my thoughts never stray from him.  I can’t stop being jealous of Mike and other person, because even if we are best friends, that is all we will be – never mind that that is all they will be too, and we are closer than the two of them anyway.  But why is that not enough?  Why is friendship never enough?  Why is my heart involved?  I wish I could put my heart in a box and stop it from falling apart.  I guess it makes me cherish just how strong and close our friendship is – I certainly appreciate the man he is, and that is why I admire him so much.  When I’m 35, if I have what he has, then I will consider my life a success (he’s not perfect, but he has accomplished a lot of what I seek to).  But what if I never find someone like him? I know I’m pondering what I said there’s no use in pondering, but I just wish things could be different.  I just wish that I could be rational and not have to deal with my heart pangs every time Mike flirts with someone other than me, even though it’s all harmless.  I wish he could hold me tight and promise he would never leave.  I wish a million futile things, and I don’t know what to do about it.

How do you stop your heart from breaking?

h1

hypocritical much?

August 29, 2009

Okay, I realise that I’m in serious danger of stanning for Mariah Carey before the album even drops, and I posted about her only yesterday.  But reading certain blogs and forums, which I know are only opinions often by a lot of small minded people or people who are blatantly paid to support certain artists, I can’t help but feel that there is some injustice going on.

Mariah Carey releases a cover song, “I Want To Know What Love Is”.  According to some, she is whispering too much through the song because she has lost her voice and can never get it back.  Others say that she is shrieking and howling and squeaking like an animal.  Which is it?  Either you are shrieking and howling, or you have lost your voice – it can’t be both.  I personally think that her voice is damaged somewhat, and isn’t the same as it was as she first came out. I acknowledge that, and then I say that she is still the best female vocalist around today.  This is part of the hypocrisy I am perceiving; people want to down Mariah Carey for lip-synching a few times, but when she does sing live, they criticise her for a whispery voice not like on the record / oversinging her song with too many histrionic outbursts / not being able to sing and dance at the same time.  What do people want?  Nobody is perfect, but Mariah Carey is possibly the closest that we have.  I would like to warn Beyoncé, who is the most prominently successful young singer / songwriter / dancer / entertainer of the new era – THIS IS YOUR FUTURE. Hate no matter what you do, and the majority of people’s opinions on your album is dictated by how much media support / criticism it gains.  It was decided by the media before the album even dropped that The Emancipation Of Mimi would be a smash hit / “comeback”.  It was decided by the media before the album even dropped that E=MC² would not live up to The Emancipation Of Mimi either in terms of sales or in terms of quality.  I happen to prefer E=MC² because I think the songs are slightly stronger, whereas I tend to skip a few of them on Mimi. I don’t have a problem with people disagreeing, but I’m just tired of stans putting one artist down for no decent reason, and criticising an album when they probably haven’t even listened to it.  If you have an opinion, please back it up.  I may not agree with you, but at least I will respect you.

So people are dogging Mariah Carey because she decided to cover a song.  Um, “Without You” was also a cover, but nobody had a problem with her version of that 16 years ago?  Also, Whitney Houston’s “I Will Always Love You” was a fantastic song that was a cover version of Dolly Parton’s original. I don’t hear anyone having a problem with that song.  In fact, let’s talk about Whitney Houston.  I nearly did this yesterday, but I managed to restrain myself; after reading some of the frankly retarded opinions posted on Lil’ Kim Zone, I can no longer hold my tongue.  Whitney Houston’s new album is okay.  I like some of the songs (“Salute” is my favourite), I think others are atrocious.  Mostly, I like the ballads and dislike the uptempos.  That’s fine, you can’t win ’em all, and I know that other people are really enjoying her record.  Her voice sounds good, but undeniably not how it did before (she doesn’t belt, she riffs too much).  These are criticisms which, funnily enough, have been levelled at Mariah Carey.  Okay.  Whitney Houston’s new single “Million Dollar Bill” has peaked in the mid-70s on the Billboard Chart.  Mariah Carey’s song has stayed within the Top 20 of that chart for the past 5-6 weeks.  So don’t tell me that Mariah Carey is pushing her album back because she is scared of Whitney Houston; don’t tell me that her career is ‘flopping’.  If you want me to quote stats, I can do: “Obsessed” has had her highest chart debut in 11 years, and its digital sales currently stand at 526,000.  Whitney Houston’s newest song has sold 32,000 copies, which is about 6% of what Mariah’s single has sold.  Who should be scared?

Let’s talk about songwriting.  As far as I am aware, Whitney Houston has only written one song in her catalogue – the massively successful “Whatchulookinat” (that is sarcasm, by the way).  Mariah Carey writes 90% of all her material – and not only is she involved in writing lyrics, but she also has a hand in creating and producing the music.  Of course, because Mariah Carey’s newest song is a cover version, there have been snide comments about her not being able to hire a decent team of songwriters to write a hit for her.  In actuality, this is something Mariah Carey has never done; she has never hired anybody to write her material.  Songs such as “Vision Of Love”, “Dreamlover”, “Hero”, “Fantasy”, “One Sweet Day”, “Always Be My Baby”, “Heartbreaker”, “We Belong Together”, “Don’t Forget About Us”, “Touch My Body” all have songwriting credits to Mariah Carey. By the way, all those songs went to #1 on the Billboard Hot 100, and “One Sweet Day” and “We Belong Together” jointly hold the record for the longest stretch at #1, which is 16 weeks.  I enjoy Mariah Carey’s music, whether it charts highly or not.  I loved her Glitter album when her career was at a real low point, and I still think that “Lead The Way” and “Never Too Far” are two of her best songs and vocal performances to date.  I think that Charmbracelet was a more heartfelt and personal album than The Emancipation Of Mimi, despite Mimi selling 5 times what Charmbracelet sold.  I am able to have an opinion on the music which is separate from how much it sells, because what’s important to me is whether I like the damn songs and vocals and music, not how successful it is.  Just because an artist isn’t constantly at the top of the charts has nothing to do with their artistic merit.  However, it’s come to the point where I am quoting these statistics because certain foolish people are trying to down Mariah Carey too much, and it’s just ridiculous to me, not to mention utterly hypocritical.

Whitney Houston doesn’t write her songs.  I don’t think that this matters, because a great singer doesn’t have to be a great songwriter (as Aaliyah said); if they can interpret material well, that is equivalent to making the song their own.  As I said before, Houston did this with “I Will Always Love You”.  But if people want to talk about songwriting prowess, Mariah Carey wins hands down.  Sales-wise, both currently and in terms of their entire careers, Mariah Carey is ahead of Whitney Houston.  (Barbra Streisand is the biggest selling female artist of all time.)  If people want to talk about Mariah Carey not being able to sing live, then please hold your tongue until Whitney Houston sings her new single live.  I have yet to hear or see her performing “Million Dollar Bill” live, and I have yet to hear or see any announcement that she is going to be doing this in the near future.  Until she does this, can we stop criticising Mariah’s live performances, because whether her voice is damaged or not, the facts are that she is singing live and Whitney is not, so you can’t compare the two.

People say they have lost respect for Mariah Carey because she doesn’t dress her age (she is 39, and I see many women 10 years older than her walking around Bristol in far less, but anyway), she has had plastic surgery, she cavorts with too many rappers and doesn’t sing the way she used to.  A small point: on I Look To You, two of Whitney Houston’s songs were produced by Akon, and he features on one.  A larger point:  Whitney Houston was a drug addict for possibly a decade or more; she raised a daughter while addicted to drugs, and god knows what else her daughter has been exposed to during Houston’s drug addiction, marriage and divorce to Bobby Brown.  Mariah Carey has never done drugs, or even been reported to do drugs (yet… wait for it!); the worst vice she has is for a couple of glasses of champagne or wine.  Mariah Carey didn’t raise a family under the glare of the media nor while taking cocaine.  The worst that Mariah Carey has done is wear a few (debatably) ill-fitting dresses.  I think that Houston and Carey are both even in terms of diva behaviour (reported, not usually substantiated, by the way) and in terms of their ability to spend money on things which appear frivolous to you and me.  In my opinion (I keep repeating this) NONE OF THIS AFFECTS THEIR ABILITY TO SING OR MAKE MUSIC.  But since so many people seem to go on about Mariah’s imperfections whilst forgetting about Whitney, I just wanted to do a comparison to put everything into perspective.  Mariah Carey is the more successful artist in terms of sales, charts and airplay; she writes her own material whilst Houston has a team of accomplished songwriters to do so for her; Mariah Carey has never done drugs nor raised a child whilst on drugs; Whitney Houston has had a more successful film career (again, I am nothing if not fair) and dresses more conservatively.

I can’t stand the hypocrisy of people, both ill-informed stans of other artists and biased media acting on a propaganda brief.  When Michael Jackson died, people conveniently forgot about his repeated child-abuse trials, and overlooked his excessive plastic surgery.  Radio hadn’t played his records for years, and suddenly you can’t go a day without hearing “Man In The Mirror” or “I Just Can’t Stop Loving You”, songs which radio stations in Bristol have never played.  I am pleased that in his death, his music has been made more accessible to so many people, and is finally being honoured, even if it is a little too late.  He was a truly legendary and fantastic performer.  But I don’t see how we can suddenly excuse Michael Jackson and Whitney Houston for their faults (in both cases, they have done things which are not only massively ill-advised, inconsiderate of young people, but also illegal), yet take Mariah Carey to task for wearing short skirts & low-cut dresses or for not sounding 100% perfect when she sings live or for choosing to do a cover version of a song.

I’ll say it once more: an artist’s sales, personal life, dress sense, media scandals and choice of partner / collaborator / pet should not influence whether you like their music or not.  I own albums by Carey, Houston and Jackson, and none of what has happened in the past year (his death, Houston’s “comeback”, Eminem’s annoyance with Carey) has remotely affected my enjoyment of their music.  Like what you like, because you like it. But if you really want to go there, and want to compare stats, then let’s compare stats.  The only thing I can think of is that some people are jealous, because Mariah Carey really does seem to have it all (even though she is not perfect and her voice is not quite what it used to be; I’m not deaf.) – the body, the voice, the talent, the money, the husband, the songwriting credits behind her songs. So if you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all – don’t hate; appreciate.

h1

the proposal.

August 17, 2009

In retrospect, this seems quite ironic considering that the last two days, I’ve been blogging about the wedding I attended on Saturday, but today I went to see The Proposal with Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds.  I really enjoyed the film, despite it being a relatively straightforward romantic comedy (I tend to prefer horror, action or thought-provoking foreign films) – I am thinking of going to the cinema on my own, because I tend to enjoy it much more as I see the films I want to see when I want to see them, and I don’t really get distracted by anyone accompanying me, feeling that they are gauging my reaction to the film (Karina notices when I don’t laugh in a comedy, and the others monitor when I go on Twitter / fall asleep in the midst of a boring film).

Being alone with my thoughts is something, as an only child, that I’ve always appreciated, but lately I seem to be actively taking days for myself.  Since I seem to be practically incapable of spending a whole day at home, if I have no prior engagements during the day, I take a book (finished Glamorama, am midway through Let The Right One In and bought American Psycho today for when I finish that.), put myself in a café and spend an hour reading and caffeinating.  Although it costs money I could save at home, it is distraction-free, I can wrap myself up in my music and my book and just let the world pass me by.

However, the danger of being in my own space is that sometimes my thoughts can spiral into melancholy.  And watching The Proposal, combined with the romantic proceedings of the wedding weekend and the immense perfection of Ryan Reynolds’ physique / character in the movie, I got a bit down.  I don’t know if it is envy, because I keep saying that I am appreciating the single life and enjoying not forcing myself into a relationship which doesn’t fit (been there, done that this year), or if it is just longing for someone to touch me and then still want to see me afterwards, but after the film I couldn’t restrain myself from texting Brett.  He is improving and learning to text me back and we have much more regular dialogue than in the early days, but we have still only seen each other in person once and that does not bode well for a future dating/relationship thing.  Who knows what is going on.  But today, I just needed to talk to somebody who is a possible feeling-reciprocator and to whom I feel close, at least in some way of communication.  I have learned to understand more the reasons why he doesn’t always text back or why he doesn’t often venture out to meet (it’s private really, but he’s had a few medication ups and downs lately), and in a way it’s nice that everything is progressing at a slow rate because it doesn’t consume me and I can get on with my own life and I feel like I am learning to be less neurotic. So Brett is teaching me these things.

Nevertheless dreams and fantasy are a little bit irresistible and I can’t help but imagine how good it would be just to have somebody I could rely on, someone who drives me a little bit crazy in a good way, because they are actually dating me or romantically involved with me or whatever.  As much as I enjoy my own space and being alone and doing whatever I need to do everyday without people bearing down on me, at other times I get lonely and want to just chill with somebody and talk or have fun or whatever.  I know that nobody can have it all, but to want for somebody to want to understand me doesn’t seem so far-fetched, does it?  I can’t imagine that all the love I have to give would just go to waste?  Youth is time to have fun and I want to have fun, but not just by myself, I want to share it with my friends and family and that someone special too.  I guess we’ll just never know until it happens, but I can’t be patient all the time and when I watch the speed-time-frames of films like The Proposal and the beautiful people contained within, I just wish I would find a supermodel and it would all just hurry up and work out happily ever after.  Now how’s that for far-fetched?