Romance

You would be hard-pressed to find a copy of Love Story or The Bridges of Madison County in my house. The only romance novels I have would fall under the category of gag gifts, and while I know many people who love the books, I don't read Nora Roberts. I'm also not touchy-feely, I don't hold hands and sing in the round and I've never been a fan of Grey's Anatomy.   

That being said, apart from Nights in Rodanthe, I have seen every movie ever made from a Nicholas Sparks book. In the theater. Multiple times. And cried. 

It's easy to see why I'd like The Notebook. I think Rachel McAdams is awesome, and I think we all know that Ryan Gosling is hot. I also have a not-so-secret old man crush on James Garner. Judge me if you want, but that man is still darn charming. And if you doubt me, find some pictures of Mr. Garner circa 1962.

In a few words: Hubba. Hubba.

I didn't know what to expect with A Walk to Remember, but something in my gut told me that this was a movie I needed to see. At the time the movie was released, I had two male roommates (platonic) and was living in D.C. While one of my roommates had accompanied me to Legally Blonde and Unfaithful, I was still pretty sure that A Walk to Remember would be a hard sell. So, one Saturday afternoon, I snuck out of the house without telling anyone where I was headed and made my way to the movie theater at Union Station.

I started seeing movies by myself the summer after my sophomore year of college. I was going through a bad break-up and was worried that what I would miss most about my relationship was not having anyone to go to the movies with. I figured a head-long dive into one of my biggest break-up anxieties would help with the heartache. It didn't, but I discovered a new favorite past time.

I like sitting in the dark by myself while a fantasy unfolds on the screen. I find it relaxing. When I'm very stressed, I try to find time to escape and see a movie by myself -- cell phone off and no thoughts beyond those related to the story in front of me.

"Most people go to church for that," a friend of mine once said. Maybe they do, but I prefer the movies.

As I took my seat in Union Station that day, I noticed that most of the crowd was women about my age either in small groups of two or three, or also by themselves. There wasn't a man in sight. The theater went dark, and we all watched as Mandy Moore and Shane West fell in love.

As the movie progressed, we, as a crowd, also got girlier and girlier. We aaw-ed during particularly touching moments. ("You're in two places at once. Scratch if off your list!") There were audible sobs during the important reveals. ("I'm sick, Landon.") And when Shayne West proposed to Mandy, a woman in the back yelled, "Yes!" and we all clapped. A bunch of jaded, city-dwelling 20-somethings fresh off The Rules and too many Cosmopolitan articles about dating like a man letting their inner eight-year-olds (complete with drugstore bride costumes and teddy bears filling in as the minister) out for a few hours.

It was the most fun I've ever had in a room full of strangers.

Where am I going with all this? Dear John comes out soon, and I can't wait. So, if you find yourself at the theater, sitting next to a mysteriously veiled woman who travels with a lot of Kleenex in her purse, I may not acknowledge it in public, but we're both there for all the same reasons. 

This photo: because it's relevant, and because I can.

You Need Us, You Really Do

A few months ago, I shared some thoughts on the movie The Hangover. While I completely stick by what I said then, I also don't want to give the impression that I was only dogging on women. By no means is the other gender off the hook.

I love movies like Old School, Knocked Up and The Hangover. I saw Old School twice in the theater, and both times, I laughed so hard that I was crying. To this day, listening to Kansas can always make me smile.

And one of the tried and true archetypes in these films is the girlfriend/wife who always gets in the way of fun. She nags. She's skeptical. She's forever anti-guys' weekend. And in all of these films, she's also absolutely right.

Taking The Hangover as an example, let's look at just a few of the situations the male characters get themselves into when left to their own devices (and in case you haven't figured it out yet: SPOILER ALERT):

1. Theft of wild, dangerous, big-teeth-baring animal from the home of a convicted rapist and possible cannibal, a.k.a. Mike Tyson.

2. Quickie marriage to a prostitute -- not to mention consummating a marriage to a prostitute that could lead to potential STDs, etc.

3. Theft of cop car. Stealing is never good. Stealing from cops is worse.

4. Misplaced friend. They lose a person. AN ENTIRE PERSON.

5. Near-complete destruction of very expensive hotel suite.

When I saw The Hangover in the theater, three what I assume to be only-recently-of-legal-drinking-age men sat in the row in front of me. After the movie, their conversation went something like this:

"Dude, that was so awesome," Guy #1 said.

"I wish our trip to Vegas had been like that," Guy #2 said.

"That's what Vegas should be," Guy #3 added.

I nearly leaned over their row and slapped each and every one of them. For starters, I think it's pretty important to keep in mind that all movies are fantasies. Men don't like it when women think dating should resemble When Harry Met Sally or Sleepless in Seattle. Tit for tat, let's be careful what models we pick for our bro-mances.

Secondly, if the events in The Hangover had actually occurred, there would have been three possible outcomes:

1. Death.

2. Prison.

3. Financial Ruin. (Those Vegas chalets aren't cheap. Repairing the structural damage alone would wipe out most people's worldly assets.)

No one would have gotten married. No one would come home with the greatest Facebook photo album ever, and at least one member of the group would have needed years of intensive psychotherapy.

It's no wonder the female characters in these movies are suspicious of guys' trips. They have every right to be. I'm amazed they allow their fictitious partners to walk to the mail box, let alone drive a car or operate the can opener.

When it comes to the battle of the sexes, I'm forever on the side of living in a world with plenty of both men and women (and plenty of all types of men and women, clearly I'm discussing mainstream gender designations and assumptions here, but I recognize the many, many exceptions to the rule). Whenever I hear cries for "an all-female world without war or sports" I'm just as terrified as when guys talk about "getting rid of women and only focusing on fun." I like the balance that comes with varied viewpoints and gender perspectives. After all, my need for a good cry can be just as strong as my love of baby back ribs. 

And when it comes to planning weekend away for either gender, let's all remember that it's all fun and games until someone loses a finger -- or the bridegroom.