Date Night

There are very few times when I feel bad for famous people, but today I walked in and as is my custom after reading my daily bible verse logged on to E online. There was a picture of Ryan Gosling and Eva Mendes on what I am lead to believe is a date. Now, I can understand why you would be curious as to how two very well off and ridiculously beautiful people on a date could lead me to feel sympathy, but stick with me. While, Ryan looks cute and kind of cool in his typically disheveled way, Eva looks kind of like the crazy cat lady in a coat, oversized scarf, hat and large shades. These two could just be friends, but I doubt it and I feel bad that someone so attractive looks like that for a date. I am sure that it has something to do with trying to lay low and be incognito, but considering they probably sit outside of her house going unnoticed is probably not an option.

I feel like she must have felt as miserable as she looked. Not only was she being hounded by paparazzi, but she could not (or shouldn’t) have felt comfortable going out with her man dressed like that. I know what that is like. I just had the same experience when I went out on a date with my very hot Husband. He was of course looking like his usual casually cool handsome self with minimal effort. I, on the other hand, found myself staring into the black hole that is my closet desperately searching for something that would not only fit, but maybe, just maybe make me feel pretty. I have given up hope that I will feel hot, sexy or beautiful because it is that special time of the month where I seriously consider hysterectomy. (Don’t judge me until you have lived with my cramps!)

I realized that I have only 2 options. The jeans that fit and the jeans that say they are the right size, but for some reason don’t fit. Since we were going somewhere I would probably ingest more than air and water, I went with the jeans that fit and then proceeded to look for a date worthy shirt. I realized that I did not have a single cute top that would not require an obscene amount of manipulation to “slide” into. The disappointment was obvious as Husband asked, “What’s the matter, my love?” He is always so sweet and oddly Shakespearian when I am in a funk. I both hate him and love him for this. I let him know that while I was excited to be childfree on going out with him, I was not happy about the fact that my clothes and post-baby body did not reflect my childless and ready to party attitude. He asked how he could help and I had to tell him the truth, “Nothing!” As I turned back into the closet I heard, “I like your hair!” (Gotta love him!) All I could do was smile as I pulled it together and fancied myself up. Love is clearly blind, but that is no reason for me not to dress up for it.

This brings me back to Eva. She is smoking hot and going out with what appears to be a really great guy. I am sure that she, like all of us, wants to look good when she goes out on a date. It is a shame that in her effort to escape our prying eyes, she has opted to dress as though she is going to drop off a basket of goodies at Grandma’s.