Monday

1. Even the old standbys can let you down. I always thought that I could count on "Seventh Heaven" for stories of ridiculously young love and commitment. Getting engaged at your high school graduation and expecting to make it last? Sure, why not? Being a widower and father at 17? Of course, that sounds incredibly plausible. In light of this, I felt assured that I could root for Ruthie and Martin as a couple. Yeah, they met when Ruthie was 14, but they’re best friends and share a bond. Plus, this is "Seventh Heaven" for God’s sake, age is nothing but a number when it comes to love. Or so I thought. But, instead of being treated to an incredibly unlikely and chaste love affair, I’ve got a serious storyline about learning to let go and the devastation that is the end of first love. Martin knocked up another girl after a one night stand and has now left town (and Ruthie) to attend college and accept his parental responsibilities. Why, now, after 10 years of playing it one way, must "Seventh Heaven" start pursuing realistic and true to life stories? That’s what my own adolescence was for. In my voyeuristic and nostalgic mid-20s, I want fantasy. Give me Ruthie and Martin together, not learning to cope with loss and disappointment. 2. Although it might lead to vanity (and who am I kidding, I already know I’m vain), I must check the mirror before leaving the apartment. When I clean my apartment, I don’t look pretty. Monday’s straightening up outfit included gray spandex pants, a too small navy shirt, and a hot pink terry cloth headband. This hardly mattered to me, but when I had to make a trip down to the dumpster with trash in hand, some of my neighbors (who actually work on Mondays and who don’t wear get-ups such as mine at 4:00 in the afternoon) turned away from me in horror. (The others kept staring, much like they were looking at an accident on the freeway.) I now know that sometimes outfits that are ok for inside aren’t ok for outside. 3. I really am just a crier. The first time I saw "Frequency," I was going through a hideous break up. I saw the movie by myself, and at the end I cried so hard a gay couple I didn’t know stopped before exiting to ask if I was ok. I assumed that my emotional display had to due with my life circumstances at the time. (I’m also probably the only person who ever cried their way through "Road Trip." Let’s just say, not the distraction one would want because their long-distance boyfriend cheated on them.) So, last night I watched "Frequency" again having discovered it in the bargain DVD display at Target. Well, apparently I’m just that touched by "Frequency" because I again sobbed my way through the ending. Who knew a murder mystery set across a time/space continuum could be so heartfelt?