After watching a film at the cinema i always come out with the same reaction. "well that was hilarious. Loved it." OR "What a load of shite, like stuff like that will ever happen in real life. I hate life. Romance sucks. Arghhhh". Yeah that is actually pretty much it. Word for word.

But at the end of "Remember Me". After i wiped the tears away. Wow. What a film!! Like yeah i had the same reaction of. Oh god. Why isn't life ACTUALLY like this in real life. She gets the perfect guy. He's beautiful. She's hot. Got a body to die for blah blah blah. BUT then the ending happens. Then you think. Fuck. All that stuff actually DID happen. And it really gets you thinking about how lucky you are. (i'm trying to write as much of this without giving the ending away. In case any of you read it and haven't seen the film yet) But seriously i advice it sooo much. It was really good. My older brother who's 21 this Friday, Hates all chick flick type films (apart from mean girls, but thats due to Lyndsey Lohan i think) He even liked it. So yes. Go little puppies. :)

What other ramblings are going through my head? I really do hate films though. Coz i always feel really shite after wards. Like seriously. Where are these guys in these films? They must exist some where in the world. And why can't they come find me? Maybe i need to start hanging out in Starbucks, writing a diary with a big mug of coffee? Then some super hot, buff, smart, sexy, toned, American, high school prom king yet uber sensitive guy will come up to me and ask me if i'm done with the sugar. (which i don't have in my coffee any way) But i pretend to use it. Just so he hangs around my table that few seconds longer. By doing this it leaves a fresh image in his mind as he walks back to his table. Glancing over his shoulder for one last look as i pick up my extra large, extra skinny, Latte. He sits there for as long as i'm in there, pretending to read Sports Illustrated, but inside he's really got a book of poetry which he remembers so he can recite it to the love of his life.

I stroll out of Starbucks, without a care in the world, i wait to cross the street, the sun shining as all the cars stop for me. Just because they can. As i walk down a dark allay way where i'm faced with a group of muggers. Just as they go to take my phone and run. Hot coffee shop guy appears. Saving the day.

Pfft. Its all nice to dream about this stuff. But i suppose you can waste a life time on dreaming, and focus less about the reality of the situation. Which is. Going out with your friends every weekend, getting drunk, maybe pulling some random, maybe getting looked at a couple of times. But then you have to go back to work. Where your uniform is about as flattering as a wonderbra. You see a hot guy. And he see's you as a worker. Thats it. So gods of fate. What do you have in store for me? Where will this "perfect" man appear from?

Thats if such thing actually does exist?

Peace.

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