I love books, television and movies. But they have totally fucked my perspective on life, love and happiness. Nothing happens like they say it will. Not even close.

Are You There God? It’s Me Margaret. – This book totally skewed my first period. For realz. I read this book and envisioned that my first period would play out exactly like it did in the book. I would get to wear those cool belts and all my friends would be so envious. Fuck that. I was on vacation when I first got it. I knew what it was, of course, because I had read everything I possibly could in anticipation. I was in my aunt’s bathroom when it arrived. I yelled out for mom because even though I had read all that stuff, I still wasn’t sure what exactly to do. She comes in and goes in the closet and pulls out this big as a boat maxi pad. That had sticky stuff on the bottom. No belt. Nothing to hook on and wear under my clothes. Nada. The whole thrill of it was gone. It didn’t make me gush with all the emotional realization of what my body can do. It just made me gush. Made me feel like a slaughtered pig. So instead I walked around skulking for the rest of the trip, trying to act like I was older, secretly wishing my boobs would have caught up with my uterus. There was plenty of time for that though, thank you very much! Ladies, we got the short end of the stick. I’d much rather walk around with a hard-on than deal with this every month.

Forever – Yep another Judy Blume. This lady was the bomb for teen angst. My first time was nothing at all like it was in Forever. There was no fondue, it was not on a skiing trip that my parents just decided to let me go on. Nothing at all. In fact, it was over in all of less than two minutes. In a basement, on the guys grandmothers bed. Talk about romantic. And you know what? We did go back to holding hands after that, it can be done. There were no sparks, no butterflies, no talk of the pill. Actually, I didn’t feel any different after than I did before I had sex. I will say that after my first time, I did wait a long time before I had sex again. At least it’s become more novel worthy

The White Mountains – I thought that by the time I hit 21, the world would be ruled by the tripods. I thought we would all have implants, not the boobie kind, that would be controlled by these creatures and we would be at their whim. Guess not. On a side note, I also thought I would have a jet-pack that would get me from place to place and cool food like the Jetson’s have. FML.

Grease – I don’t know about you, but I sure was disappointed when I graduated HS and there was no carnival. No bursting out in song and dance to the likes of “we go together like rama lama lama ke ding a de dinga a  dong, remembered forever like shoo bop wadda wadda yipitty boom de boom.” And for the record, there was no flying car after to take me away with my super cool boyfriend while all the dorks stood around and got their yearbook sign. I feel so cheated.

Say Anything – I am still looking for my Lloyd Dobler. *swoons* a man who doesn’t want to sell anything, buy anything or process anything as a career. Who doesn’t want to sell anything bought or processed, or buy anything sold, bought or processed or repair anything sold bought or processed. But more importantly, who will stand under my bedroom window in a trench coat, holding a boom-box over his head and blast “In Your Eyes” by Peter Gabriel. Lloyd, where the fuck are you already?

90210 – My parents were never this cool. And we never had the cash to do/buy all the things these kids did. If I crashed my car while drunk driving, my dad would have kicked my ass. I would have been better off staying in jail. If my parents found a pregnancy test in the recycle bin (if we had a recycle bin) my mom wouldn’t have taken me to the doctor to look into birth control, she would have immediately went to church and prayed for my lost, sinner soul. Then my dad would have kicked my ass. And my boyfriends ass. My mom never took me shopping to a really fancy store for the Spring Fling Dance, hell, we didn’t even have a spring fling dance. Or a football team. Or cheerleaders. Or lockers. I was really bummed about not having lockers in my school that I could go to between classes to hang out. Nope, I had to carry all those heavy-assed books all freaking day long. But I digress. We didn’t go into the city to buy new clothes. We went to the Sears Outlet. On Long Island. But hey, I guess I could have had my Brady moment if I walked around singing it’s a sunshine day!

Melrose Place – when I finally moved out on my own (well not completely alone, I moved in with a boyfriend) we lived in an apartment complex. I didn’t have any trendy, sexy neighbors. Instead of smelling hot sex and chlorine 24/7, I got Indian food 24/7. It permeated my apartment. When I would go to our community pool, which was not in the middle of our courtyard, (hell, I didn’t even have a courtyard) I got to sit across from old biddies with blue hair and saggy boobs and people who brought their tweezers down to the pool to tweeze their, er, um, bikini area. I kid you not.

21 Jump Street – Hey, I went to a bad high school, a really bad high school, but there were no Johnny Depp-lookin’, undercover officers there. When I got in trouble, it was by the freaky ass security guard who was about 300 lbs and still living with his mother. And I got in trouble All. The.Time. What I would have given to have Johnny Depp frisk me to see if I was carrying any illegal drugs.

They basically all lied. There were no captains of football teams for me, I was not a cheerleader, never had the chance to be. My first boyfriend wasn’t this studly guy, or a quiet but super hot geek, he wasn’t sought after by many. I had no hope of my parents buying me a TransAm for my 16^th birthday, there was no Jake waiting for me. I would never search for buried treasure under an abandoned restaurant. Never go into the woods with my best friends to see a dead body. Never rule the school with my bitchy group of friends (ok that was the 90s but it’s a cult classic!) I wouldn’t compete in a dance off to be on a hot new dance show, or wreak havoc on my school during detention. I didn’t lose my virginity in spectacular way worth noting. I would never have my uncle get me a silver bullet to kill the werewolf that was terrorizing my neighborhood. My dreams of having a robot sibling never materialized. No trips to the Catskills where I could show off my mad dancing skills and be wooed by the super hot dance instructor.

And they’re still lying. Am I really supposed to believe that Katherine Heigl has such a hard time getting dates in both 27 Dresses and The Ugly Truth? C’mon now, you leave me no hope if that’s true. I know that there will be no Leonardo DiCaprio types holding me on the bow of a ship, unless he wants to push me over it.

But there’s one movie I can believe in. One that I know speaks the truth.

He’s Just Not That Into You.

Boy did I get the shaft. Thank you very much.

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