An Open Letter to Crazy Womenby Joy Engel on March 25, 2020
I had a post all prepared for you this week. It was about going to the movies. It was a good post, too! All about movie etiquette and little dating tests. I was reading it just last night and I thought, oh, my friends on the Internet are going to have a real chortle over this one! I am so crazy! Want to know why you’re reading this instead of a nice post about being at the movies?
Because some ladies are Bat Shit Crazy.
Every day I visit the Internet and am greeted by a new story about the Royal Wedding. At first it was fine and I understood the trend! Midwestern moms read the Internet too! They need content. I AM WILLING TO SHARE THE INTERNET WITH OTHERS.
But then people started discussing refrigerators with the images of William and
Kate Catherine (How do you go from “Kate” with a ‘K’ to Catherine with a ‘C?’ Were you just really into Anne of Green Gables as a child and tried to trick people into thinking your name is more interesting than it really is? I DO NOT UNDERSTAND), and others tried to vote on what kind of dress Kate should wear (hint: it will be white and long), and even more thought perhaps they had real bearing on what kind of tiara she’d wear. People are invested in this. And I just don’t understand it (note: I am invested in Lifetime’s retelling of the Royal Romance. But that is my life and my choices).
Earlier this week I read about ladies who essentially design their entire lives over meeting a prince. Some even forgo sleeping with other people, because they think these “youthful indiscretions” will reflect poorly when they become royalty. They study royalty magazines and focus their college semesters abroad around meeting a prince.
I remember when I was 12-years-old I looked at a photo of Prince William. And he was cute! And we were the sameish age! And I was like, “someday I am going to marry him and be a princess.” But then you know what happened? I stopped being 12 years old.
You know what it’s like when you stop being 12? It’s lovely! You meet friends that you like not just because they’re connected to the right social spheres. You meet boys who might be fry cooks in lobster shacks (as a random example) who certainly aren’t royalty, but have huge hearts and teach you a lot about relationships and what you want out of a mate. And you don’t define relationship success on a person’s title or rank. It’s fantastic when you stop being 12. Trust me, I stopped being 12 over 15 years ago.
So ladies, please, stop being crazy. Because I want to write about movies. And what it’s like the first time you hold someone’s hand (butterflies). Put down that copy of Monarchy Magazine and pick up that cute bike messenger (that seems very European to me?) who probably doesn’t have a shilling to his name, but will treat you with far more respect than a man who spends his weekends shooting birds (and then not even getting the birds himself! Having dogs pick the birds up for him! That’s just lazy.).
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Joy Engel lives and works in Portland, Maine where she tweets far too much and solves the occasional murder-mystery while riding around on a bicycle. Everything she writes is her personal opinion and does not necessarily represent the views of her employer or its clients.