I’m throwing in the towel with grading tonight. I’ve been on a grading marathon lately and have even forgone my usual nightly reading, for, you guessed it, grading.
But not tonight. My brain is fried. Instead, I’m putting Luke to bed and then settling down to watch a stupid romantic comedy (SRC).
I picked out the movie Leap Year to watch tonight. It looks like it will be terrible and yet I can’t wait. It involves all I love in a SRC: a predictable plot (of course the guy and girl will end up together); an adorable man who will, naturally, save the girl in some horribly cheesy way; a clumsy girl who desperately needs the help of a good man; and even better, the movie it set in Ireland and the male character will have an accent. Oh how I love an accent.
I’m not a stupid or vapid woman, and I love deep movies with unique plots and intelligent character development. I also love sad documentaries. But dammit, I love a SRC like no other.
I know the plots and characters go against any morals I believe in and value. In fact, I’m sure it is reasonable to argue that the SRC goes against everything I value, especially feminism.
But I just don’t care. I want to be swept away in a ridiculous plot where the man does save the woman and where everything ends happily-ever-after. I want that cheesy romance for just a few hours. I want to yearn for a fictional life where a trip to Ireland will land me the man of my dreams. It’s unrealistic for sure, but I’m still thankful for a night spent watching a SRC.
Tomorrow morning, I’ll come back to reality, but for tonight, I’m going to wave my SRC flag and be proud.