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December 1st, 1999

My Love Life - R.I.P.

I'm cheating again. I'm posting in advance. It's actually Tuesday. Let me tell you why. (No, not why it's Tuesday. Why I'm posting, silly.)

Tonight is Buffy night. Yes, Buffy and Angel are on tonight and I, a grown and responsible adult, must sit on my couch with my roll of Brawny and weep over the injustice of it all. And, since I'll be doing such copious amounts of blubbering, I'll have no time to prep for tomorrow!

Can't a vampire-doomed-to-walk-the-earth-with-a-soul and a
girl-chosen-to-save-all-of-mankind-by-slaying-all-of-the-vampires have a nice little romance without someone dredging up the past -- and the dead -- and ruining it all? If ever two people deserved to be happy, it's Buffy and Angel. I felt same way about Donald and Marla. ::sobbing::

Who am I kidding? Romance can be a precarious feat whatever the situation. I mean, let's face it, I'm not slaying anything other than the occasional split end here but true romance is as hard to come by in my house as it is in Buffy and Angel's netherworld.

Life is not about romance. Life is about reality. Sure, you can try to sneak a little bit of romance in there every once in a while but you can bet as you sit there drinking your wine and nibbling your cheese by candlelight the guinea pig will be peeing on your bedspread again. Nothing like a little bit of rodent urine to bring you crashing back down to the cold, hard facts.

"Honey, we need some romance. Something to spice things up a little bit."

"Are you trying to get me to move the dresser again? I'm not biting."

"No, you moop. I am serious. When was the last time we had a quiet
candlelit dinner?"

"Well, we did get to finish that pizza off in the yard the last time the kids
caught the garage on fire."

"That doesn't count. When was the last time we ate at a restaurant?"

"Does McDonalds qualify?"

"You know, you're not helping much. I want some real romance. I think I
deserve it."

"What did you have in mind?"

"Would you dress up like Zorro for me tonight?

"You are not serious."

"Yes. Yes, I am."

Later that evening as he stood upon our bed clad in a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle cape, waving a light saber above his head, and declaring I should release his "Spaniard" and bring freedom to the oppressed, I sadly decided to accept reality. Romance after kids would just never be the same.

Unless otherwise specified, all material
Copyright 1999 by
Marijke Hildreth



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