Sneezing in Baltimore

I spent the week watching chick flicks with my roommate as I got through my period and she wrestled with a bad cold. Day six of the movie marathon included "Sleepless in Seattle." I've seen this movie before (though not countless times like many women -- that is saved for "You've Got Mail), but I saw bits of it with fresh eyes. We all remember the storylines of Annie and Sam... bride-to-be with second thoughts and moping but charming widower. But how many of us remember the man that Annie was supposed to marry? His name was Walter. And what was his flaw? He had allergies.

Now, I don't sleep with a humidifier and I am not allergic to countless amounts of food, but I do have to sleep with a fan, I have to sleep in a warm room with about three blankets and three comforters, and I can't eat much dairy or gluten (wheat, barley, rye, oats, etc). The main fault with Walter, as demonstrated by his allergies, was his sensitivity and need for accommodations. Well, if these are the faults that prevent him from marrying the woman of his dreams, I'm in big trouble.

"But he ends up with someone," my roommate says. "Who?" I ask. "Well," she says, "in my head he ends up with someone." If they did show who he ended up with, it would be an equally awkward side character with her own set of issues. Maybe she's overweight or has really crazy hair. Maybe she's a minority or nerdy, or really quiet. None of these scenarios make me feel better, because I fit them all. I don't want to be the side character in someone else's movie. I want to be the heroine, the one who falls for the charming, stable man with just a little bit of edge. I want to be with the man who's not boring but dashing, not safe but charismatic. My roommate is much more overweight and shy than I am. She can't do sports because of her bad hip, including dancing or snowboarding or ice skating on New Year's Eve. It helps to know that I'm not alone, but as we sit on the couch, nursing our ailments and being completely single, I can't help feeling like we are both doomed to be overlooked by the men we really want, because we're the nice girls who guys WANT to want, but often don't.

Now, I'm not really as cynical as I'm sounding in my post. Despite my ranting, I have absolutely no doubt that I will find the man of my dreams. At thirty-three, this positivity is a bit unwarranted. But I can't help feeling like my match is out there somewhere. In fact, this could be a big reason why I'm single. I don't want to be the side character, and I don't want to date the side character either. He doesn't have to be a Hollywood hottie, but he has to fill the lead role in my story of life. Like Sam did for Annie, he has to take my breath away.