Scene from Runaway Bride

       MAGGIE
  I'm going to kill myself.

       PEGGY
  Why?

       MAGGIE
  Because you think I'm all like... "Hey 
  man, check me out".

       PEGGY
   (friendly)
  No, I don't think you're like, "I'm 
  charming and mysterious in a way that 
  even I don't understand and something 
  about me is crying out for protection 
  from a big man like you".  Very hard 
  to compete with.  Especially to us 
  married women who have lost our mystery.

       MAGGIE
  But you haven't lost your mystery!  
  You're very mysterious!

       PEGGY
  No.  I'm weird.  Weird and mysterious 
  are two different things.

       MAGGIE
  But I'm weird.

       PEGGY
  No.  You're quirky.  Quirky and weird 
  are two different things.

Maple

Perhaps it is subconsciously due to the upcoming Valentine's Day, despite the fact that I think it's more related to events currently happening in my and others' lives, that I have been in a particularly sappy mood. It is also partially due to all of the flack the movie He's Just Not That Into You is currently receiving for being a shitty movie, which is unfortunate, because romantic comedies don't have to be trite, sexist displays of patheticness. Anyway, I'm in a romcom mood.

Edit: I originally included a clip from Notting Hill, but since I'm actually watching My Best Friend's Wedding (or just finished watching it) and because I find it more pertinent to singles than Notting Hill, I've included the final scene below, that pretty much almost changed my life in high school, for putting words to something that had been scratching in my consciousness. Spoiler alert, obvs.

Chick Fight

A couple of years back I found myself watching the unfortunate chick flick, Little Black Book. When released in theatres, this film held no appeal for me, but when one is stuck in front of a television set with not much available to watch, one can easily be drawn in by Holly Hunter, even if, like me, you prefer your Brittany Murphies to be dark haired and curvy.

I was admittedly slightly impressed by what the film was attempting to accomplish with its exploration of female competitiveness and of course, the ultimate lesson that a woman does not need a man in her life in order to feel complete. Unfortunately, it did not do this well. The film wrapped up with a neatly packaged and carefully explained moral-of-the-story that left the viewer feeling dumber for having sat through the film and simultaneously incensed that the writer and director would treat us like morons and feel a need to spell everything out. Basically, the film lacked subtlety and charm, which was made increasingly frustrating by the fact that it was obviously written by a woman. It felt like something I would write after having a sort of epiphany of the same sort.

The problem is, similar themes have been explored countless times, to be sure, but most notably in the superior, My Best Friend's Wedding. While this film was definitely no Oscar contender, Ronald Bass, a man who's written many a sensitive film, was able to infuse its female characters with a certain genuineness and believability that was completely missing in the women of Little Black Book. Not only that, but he let you figure the lessons out on your own.

Women, it's time to write ourselves, and it's time to write ourselves well.