Only in the movies

Dudes. The other night I turned on Pretty in Pink on Netflix while the fword and I were hanging out in the living room. I hadn't seen it in forever and thought it would be fun to have on in the background until we went to bed. Well, we got invested in watching it through to the end. I really paid attention. Wow. What a mistake. What is up with that story line???  Now, as a kid I loved Andie's wrong-side-of-the-tracks (literally, the train tracks are shown repeatedly in case we don't get it) story line and her interesting and defiant fashion choices. I rooted for a fairy tale ending for Andie and her bug-eyed hunky Blaine. I hated Stef in all of his Miami Vice uppityness, and I felt for charming Duckie in all his angst. And, Blaine's fancy-schmancy computer trick? Swoon. That's really stood the test of time.

The problem is that my kid self never noticed the ridiculousness of the ending. There is no cohesion whatsoever. It's like a critical piece of the movie was chopped out and no one on the crew noticed. You're going along fairly entertained and then it's like, wait...what? Blaine humiliates Andie with his lame-ass lie about "inviting someone else to the prom a month ago and forgetting about it". So transparent. Then, when she shows up at the dance with Duckie to show everyone that they didn't break her, Mr. Wimpy Lying Pants has the nerve to approach her and make an indignant speech about how the problem is that he always believed in her but she didn't believe in him. (Uh, yeah. That's how it works when you LIE.) And he finishes off by saying that he loves her. (He has a funny way of showing it, by not returning her phone calls) For some inexplicable reason, she totally falls for that crap and chases him outside in her hideous pink sack dress that's layered over hideous hot pink stockings. They kiss in a way that is supposed to be passionate but looks mildly painful. And that's that. Happy ending. I call bs!

Do you know what's even harder for me to believe? I'll tell you. I watched the first Sex and the City movie again the other day, and each time I see it I have one big problem with the plot line. It's not that Carrie and Mr. Big end up together. I made my peace with that when I faced the fact that they are two a-holes who deserve each other. No. It's that Carrie's assistant Louise has a degree in COMPUTER SCIENCE and somehow ended up as someone's personal assistant. No way, no how. In the real world she would be off making the big bucks and playing ping pong at some trendy tech company. She wouldn't have to rent her fancy purses; she would own them.

Get it right, movies!

Clearly I have busy brain while laying on the couch waiting to get sick. The fword has a nasty flu, and I'm working from home today to keep an eye on him. Sometimes we don't end catching each other's ailments, but the bottom line is that this is a small apartment. There are only so many places the germs can go. Sniff.