Dancing in the rain

Recently I was talking to a friend of mine, and she was recounting the latest chick flick she'd seen. It was a Nicholas Sparks-soft-filtered-everyone's-a-model kind of love story, one that goes for every romantic cliché. Don't get me wrong, I'm a sucker for chick flicks, but sometimes I get so frustrated by those romance stories that try to tell us that they are the ONLY kind of romantic stories out there.

When I was thinking about what I wanted to do for Feeling 33, one of the things that I thought would be cool would be to slow dance in the rain with my beloved. I've never done that before, and it's one of those clichés that seems to have snuck its way into my proverbial bucket list.

I haven't made it happen yet. Maybe because I'm either at work when it rains, or it's like a monsoon-hurricane when it rains here (as was the case last night). Maybe someday we'll make it happen.  Meanwhile, I think about the things that do happen on a weekly basis - like talking together on the couch that leads to laughing-so-hard-I'm-crying-and-stop-my-stomach-hurts-I-can't-breathe, or lip syncing / playing air instruments to music in the car - that I feel makes our love story pretty much perfect.

Sorry, Nicholas Sparks, but my life beats The Notebook any day.