Romance isn’t dead

Earlier this week I bemoaned the rise of Tinder and the death of romance.

It prompted a friend and Facebook follower to note: “I want romance but wonder like Jennifer Garner said if anyone does that anymore. Where are the gentlemen?”

She’s talking about Jen’s Vanity Fair interview, where she was asked if she could see herself dating again.

“I guess. I don’t know,” she replied. “It’s just that [from] everyone that I know that is dating it just seems, well…. Men don’t call anymore…. I want flowers; I don’t want to text. What does that make me? What kind of dinosaur am I?”

Meanwhile, Pinky Poinker assured me there ARE gentlemen among the millenials: “My nineteen year old daughter has had the same adoring boyfriend for over a year now. He sends her flowers and chocolates and treats her like a princess. Thankfully not all youngies are putting themselves on the meat market that is Tinder. My twenty three year old son is in a three year long relationship with a girl he was in preschool with. I reckon your girls will be fine.”

It was a relief to hear after all that nasty Tinder talk.

At the other end of the age spectrum, I’ve been lucky enough to find a gentleman on a dating site. Sure, we all have our baggage, but dating DD has been a sweet, healing experience after the messy breakdown of my marriage.

Who knows what our future holds, but I’ll always be grateful to him for that.

Two years ago today, oddly enough, I wrote a blog post wondering “Is there a Mr Darcy in my future?” It was prompted by watching two very different movies about relationships in the same weekend: The Wolf of Wall Street – with Leonardo Di Caprio snorting cocaine out of a hooker’s butt crack – and Austenland – with Kerri Russell visiting a Jane Austen theme park in search of her real-life Mr Darcy.

 

wolf-wall-street

Leo in the butt crack scene.

 

I noted: “I had to tackle The Wolf Of Wall Street in three parts because it was so full-on.

“So much debauchery. It was sad. And kind of startling that they survived all those drugs. But mainly sad.

“It’s based on the memoirs of crooked broker Jordan Belfort who during the 1980s and 90s enjoyed unlimited amounts of sports cars, drugs and prostitutes, paid for by millions of dupes and dopes buying his fraudulently inflated stocks.

“He doesn’t show one single bit of remorse for any of the wrongdoing. What is it with some people? All the sports cars, French champagne and mansions in the world wouldn’t be worth the soul staining involved.

“The movie was crammed with nudity and sex, but I didn’t find it titiallating at all. If I had to choose between the wild partying in The Wolf Of Wall Street and the flirty anticipation of a Jane Austen movie/mini-series, give me the Jane Austen movie/mini-series any day.

“I think it’s a girl thing: all that unresolved sexual tension. When the lead characters finally kiss … phwoar …

“While Colin Firth in Pride and Prejudice got me through the sleep deprivation and night feeds with my first child, it was Jeremy Northam in Emma who stole my heart. Oh how I loved him in that movie. So freaking gorgeous and funny. (Tip: make me laugh and I’m hooked.)

“As for finding a Colin or a Jeremy in real life, I’m not looking for the fairytale. Too cynical. Though not quite so cynical that I’d EVER want to attend a party at Jordan Belfort’s house …

“Besides, fairytales are for kids, not middle-aged women.”

As you get older, life is filled with waaaaaaaaay too much baggage for fairytale endings. But happy endings are possible … you just have to believe … oh, and work really bloody hard at your relationship when you find a good one …

Song of the day: Indigo Girls “I believe in love”

 

 

 

 

 

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