November 8, 2005

When was the last time Courtney or Emily had a good day? What with attempts on their lives, kidnappings, rapes, train wrecks, hurricanes, bad costumes and silly parties, they must be in serious need of some Wellbutrin. I mean, let’s face it, those girls have it rough. And so does the rest of Port Charles.  

Sure, I have drama in my life. Today I dealt with the water company for my rental property and about blew a gasket when they told me I’d be responsible for my previous deadbeat renters unpaid water bills.  Um, excuse me. No.  Just a few minutes ago I sat as my six-year old son pitched a fit because he couldn’t get to the next level on some ridiculous PlayStation Two game. (and it shouldn’t surprise me that PlayStation does not require a spell check on Word, but it does.) And just last night I had to sleep on the couch because one of my dogs had such bad gas the smell was unbearable. Apparently she thinks my room is hers because she didn’t leave and I did. Go figure.  

But no. I have not once had to deal with being kidnapped.  Nor was my life threatened by my husband’s grandmother. Actually, she is a wonderful lady and wouldn’t hurt a flea so I don’t think she’d ever try to off me.  Needless to say, coming from Chicago, I’ve been on several Amtrak trains (now why does Amtrak require spell check and PlayStation doesn’t?) and not once has one crashed. Oh, and though I do have long dead relatives who were associated with the Chicago Mafia, not once has anyone tried to kill me or threaten my family. And every bit of sex I have ever had has been willing.  Some more willing than others, but willingly, nonetheless. Oh, and I know for a fact that the basement of my local hospital goes no further than the elevator. Honest. (I have a friend who works there. I trust her.)  

I never slept with my best friends father.  I never assumed someone else’s identity. At times I’ve wanted to, like when my son threw the fit mentioned above, but I never have.  

What have I experienced? I’ve experienced great family time. I use the toilet. I take off my make up before going to bed. I’ve had downtime between relationships. I got married and remain happy. I have had to work. I had a normal pregnancy. I have kids that I cart around after school to every activity imaginable. I have clothes from Wal-Mart.  I have sweats or pj’s on most of the time while I’m home. I have two dogs and a cat that I pay attention to. I have a doctor who doesn’t have an office on the ER floor of the hospital. Or on any floor of the hospital for that matter. I have friends who are not affiliated with the mob. I have a car and don’t usually walk anywhere if I don’t have to. I have land surrounding me. No docks that I must go through to get anywhere in my city. I have bad hair days. I have a limited amount of whole blouses. I have friends I can trust who I don’t think would ever knowingly stab me in the back. I have a good relationship with my parents.  

Put me against Emily and Courtney and man, I’ve got the life, don’t I?   

I just don’t get it. PC hasn’t had one straight week of good days in what?  Five years? If it’s not a hurricane (where thankfully, everyone was safe due to the duct tape put on all the windows. Phew. They had me worried there for a bit!), it’s a bad storm. Or some freak with nasty tattoos and an extremely evil smile on the loose tormenting all of the gorgeous women in town (because, as you know, there are NO unattractive women in PC!)  Or, and dare I say this...aliens. Personally, if an alien came to my town, albeit naked, I’d still run screaming to the nearest government office no matter how cute he was!  

What’s up with this? Of course there’s no romance on this show people! There’s no time for romance! Everyone is constantly in an upheaval over some tragedy. They’re either waiting patiently in formal attire for a helicopter to pick them off a roof or trying to escape from some lunatic.  How could there be time for romance? Heck, if you want romance, go to the other two shows. You’ll get some there. But sorry folks, the residents of Port Chuck are far too busy handling crisis after crisis to have sex or even think about having sex.  Besides, would you want to have sex if you lived in PC? If you got pregnant, you’d either lose the baby, not know who the real father is or deliver a baby in some strange place and likely get shot in the head by your husband.  Sure doesn’t make having sex worth it.  Unless he’s really, really, REALLY good. Then I suggest you do it in a padded room with no windows and locked doors and make it quick so no one can get to you.  

What’s my point in all of this? Frankly, I don’t even know. I just watched the show today and thought, “Where’s the romance?” I’m sick of no romance. Can’t we just have a little bit here and there and not when someone’s life is in danger or there’s a tragedy happening. Just maybe a kiss or two every now and then. That’s not too much to ask, is it?  Really, it shouldn’t be.  

I think, as so many have said before me, this show is written for men with a few soft touches for women every now and then. How many men do you know that watch GH? I’m just sayin’...