Accidental Ambivalence

Reality Check

I have a superficial fantasy. In this fantasy, I leave my house on a rainy evening in a khaki trench coat and brown heels. I end up in a small, imaginary bar with a group of people that I'm very fond of. I spend my evening in a belted dress, wandering among these friends and feeling fantastic. I am sipping something pink and feeling delicately tipsy when we close the bar down, and a very polite young man walks me home - my imaginary home is apparently very close to this imaginary bar. He kisses me on the front porch, standing under the amber light next to a blooming pot of fragrant pink hyacinths.

The young man leaves, because that is what proper young men do, and I go inside and put the bright pink kettle on the stove. While I wait for it to boil, I change into a black silk nightgown and wash my face, smoothing on the last bit of moisturizer just as the kettle whistles. I climb between the sheets - white, and just washed that afternoon - beneath the soft pink down comforter with a floral china cup of peppermint tea and a perfect book.

There are massive flaws with this fantasy. First, I have a roommate, who doesn't seem to exist in the fantasy. The house is adorable and perfect and immaculate, which is the first sign that it can't actually be mine. No man that I know would be gentleman enough to walk me all the way to the door and leave with just a kiss - because I clearly know great guys. I do not own a black silk nightgown, a pink tea kettle, china cups, or a down comforter.

Then, of course, is the fact that I see no room in that fantasy life for an evening spent at home in sweats watching multiple episodes of That 70s Show on DVD and reading Vogue while snuggling with the kitties. Ah, well. Baby steps, right?

Labels: my insanity, television

posted by nicalyse @ 10:07 PM