A Love Story....

So my husband comes home yesterday from work and calls me into the den to view this website he heard about on CBC radio.
The website is www.booksbyyou.com.
Check it out if you dare.
The jist of it is that you have several different story synopsis to choose from. You enter your personal information: first and last name, eye color, hair color, body type ( wahoo! You can lie!) and the name of a close personal friend. You choose your hero and presto. One click and there you are star of your own cheesy romance novel.
On the radio they were touting this as a great valentines gift...for you and your lover.
You get to do a free sample online...so we did.
Oh my!
We howled!
I promptly called my good friend Cheryle...and busted a gut as she read back her raunchy personalized version.
Honestly..it has been a long while since I laughed til I cried.

What does this say...about us?

" Her silky satiny skin brushed up against him as she reached for her coffee cup...."
" His piercing blue eyes shot a lightening bolt through her..igniting the embers of desire."
" Her hand reached for the buttons.... "
As the commercial goes...
"That was easy!"

Has it come to this?
Welcome to the desert of the real...as they say in the Matrix.

Are we so scared of being invisible...and ordinary...and unimaginative..and insignificant..and uninteresting..and unlovely....unremarkable..unworthy...

What do we believe about ourselves that drives us to the great "American Romance Novel"?

I find it interesting that men fight the battle with pornography....
While us women go unremarked upon in our obsession with the Romance Novel.

We launch ourselves into impossible worlds with ..improbable heroines and heroes... clutching our bodices dramatically as we are taken against our will... we are ravished and fall madly in love with our ravishers...suffer seduction and surrender our virtues...all between laundry, carpooling and soccer practice.
We are stalked by killers and fall into bed with our rescuers in the suspense genre...shop til we drop on Rodeo Drive and are seduced by strangers in cafe's in the modern genre.. Taken captive by barbarians in the Medieval era...
All the while loathing our true selves...wrestling with cellulite, a rash of acne...the spare tire and muffin top bulging over our jeans...our breasts geographically challenged by childbirth or weight gain or genetics...only saved by technologically enhanced undergarments that are no support while lying flat on our backs on ill fitting cotton sheets of unremarkable thread counts.

Whether you were prom queen.. most sought after girl by the jocks...
Activist pursued by the environmentally conscious tree huggers...
Brain...admired for your intellectually stimulating conversations..
Car Jockey...dirty girl..covered in grease, riding with the bad boys...
Librarian...hidden behind your shy demeanor...shrouded in mystery undiscovered..
MVP of the varsity team... popular by association...
Goth girl...grunge girl...deep thoughtful contemplative girl...theatre girl..dance girl...artist girl
Or Plain-Jane...invisible girl...
...avoided or marginalized... elevated and praised...

We still seek to put ourselves in another story...to transplant ourselves...to reinvent ourselves...
As if we are not enough.

We fight our own sense of insignificance and inadequacy every day... we battle invisible demons.. wage wars against disembodied voices... mentally assault nameless enemies striding beside us on the sidewalk...or sitting next to us in the salon....the woman in the mirror brushing her teeth before bed.
We are still fighting.

Our screams echo around in our heads like something out of a horror flick.

And we escape.
Recreate.
Re-design.
Re-invent.

To survive.

There is another love story out there.
This one is real.
Worth the read.
It's not finished yet....
Several episodes left.

The funny thing is.
You really are the heroine.
There is a lover....
Whew...you couldn't make him up if you tried.
He is so not Hollywood.

It's a best seller.
This romance.
It's not in the back seat of a stretch limo...or a penthouse suite...
Or maybe it is...
Wherever you are there it is.
It's also in the alley under the El.
In the back room of the bar...
It's in the trailer park...the hotel room...the casino...the cabin... the condo
Its on the seashore...the mountain top...the ghetto...
The projects...the brothel... the refugee camp...the suburbs

She's wearing a burkah...goth clothing...army fatigues... a sari...an apron
Satin...wool...silk...cotton...furs...rags....
Shes naked.
Stiletto's...thigh highs... doc martins...platforms....bare feet....flip flops...
She's anorexic...obese...obsessive...addicted...successful...incarcerated...turning tricks... shooting up... bottoming out...suicidal...murderous...depressed... intellectually challenged...

She's you...she's me...
She's beloved.

Check out the story...it has rave reviews.
Nothing else comes close.
It's off the hook.
The author?
He's the Hero....
Check him out...
You won't be sorry.
Trade in the fantasy... for a little reality.
Forget COKE...this is THE REAL THING!
Today is Valentines Day....
Start looking through his rose colored glasses...
Start filtering through his camera lens...
Discover...
You are Loved....
You are enough...
You are MORE than enough...
You are the reason..the focus... the prize.

BE LOVED.
Beloved.

Happy Valentines Day to all you Beauties out there.