Shitting Rainbows and Crapping Stars to Put In Your Eyes

Yeah, soooo embarrassed to even admit it, but I tried to take the asshat back. He of Flawless Failures and Ultimate Douche-alitys. Yes, I know. It was a mistake. He couldn't even be enough of my friend to be nice to me on Mother's Day which is a bad time for me considering my mother is dead. Oh no, he was already busy cybering other girls and going out on physical dates with them and not paying for his phone. He could've just manned up and told me. Then he could've kept his phone instead of getting it turned right the fuck off during a no-doubt marathon parade of new romance bullshit. BUT, no. Asking a douche to be an adult is a losing proposition ALWAYS and doomed generally to FAILure. Hence all the FAILboat references. Usually I write that man right out of my hair, and we're done, minus several months or years of self-flagellation, but this time, I don't know; I was so disappointed I just kind of got thrown for a loop and couldn't remember what I wanted to say or even how to say it. I don't feel the least bit guilty about cutting off his phone. He made a choice to be a douche; he kissed me and left me to die (metaphorically); and I returned the favor. Actions have consequences.

I have been drowning my sorrows in bad television and social networking, two of my favs. Things I have learned during this time. I am not alone in wanting something better or more. I want a relationship that is not normal; I am looking for a life less ordinary. If that means falling in love with someone online and moving time and space to be together, than so be it. If making sacrifices to be together is required, I am game to make them. My heart didn't die or close up or petrify in my chest. Shit, my story is not even unique. I've been hanging around Plurk which is really kind of awesome. Twitter is the shit, but Plurk takes all the great things about the ICQ/IRC days and marries them with the crack-addictions of Twitter. I know of one 1100 mile apart relationship that just went tits up, and she found out from his Yahoo Away status. Oh cowardice, thy name is breaking up over status update whether it be mspazz or yahoo or MSN or twitter. BE A MAN or a WOMAN. Put on your big kid pants. I also just read a Plurk thread where someone (a man this time) is talking about how they fell in love online and have given up random hookups, but live 1200 miles apart. Mine lived 1176.03 miles away! What's up with the magical 1100-1200 mile relationship barrier? Is there some sort of geographing love hack I need to know about and recalibrate my vagina to sense? UGH. UGH. UGH.

I have turned to bad television to fill my gaping voids and mend my broken heart. I have compiled for your edification my all time top 3 most romantic moments in television. I doubt that any show you have EVER given two shits about will be represented in this dataset, but bear the FUCK with me, and I will 'splain. I'm starting with the top. The MOST romantic moment in television first, and it comes to us straight from the long-since cancelled and dread embrace of La Femme Nikita: the TV show. Yep, the one that used to be on the USA Network with Peta Wilson. I do not lie. The story was fairly true to the movie and just expanded off of the idea that there is a shadowy organization called Section that trains international spies. The story rotates of course primarily around Nikita and her relationships and inappropriate (for a spy) emotional attachments to the people around her. Particularly her relationship to Michael aka as the only mullet I could ever love. There is one mullet, and one mullet alone, in this whole, wide world that I would ungirt my loins for and that is the French-Canadian spy mullet of one Roy Dupuis:




The mullet is too powerful. I cannot unleash the glory of this mullet upon you just yet. I must refrain, for you to touch the very holy aura of the mullet with unprepared eyes is to lose all sense and reason. Nikita agrees. You may only sense the strength of the mullet by looking at this quarter of Roy Dupuis' face. Can you sense the passion and level 9,000 power of the mullempathy? Dude, is not fucking around.

Michael (Roy Dupuis) is Nikita's handler; he goes on missions with her. He seduces her sexually and mentally. He manipulates her; he protects her. He puts his life and career on the line for her. Even though, he is kind of a douche and emotionally stoic we come to understand that Michael loves Nikita. Nikita awakens his humanity, and it is this broken journey that consumes us over 4 whole seasons (we will not speak of the abomination that was the 5th season). Nikita completes the unaccomplishable quest every woman strives with over the course of her romantic lifetime how to break through the wall and turn a jerkface into a real human being: broken and beautiful. Michael's been ordered to terminate Nikita many times, but this final time the tables have been turned. All those times he thought he was manipulating her she was manipulating him. Turns out Nikita was a spy sent from Central, the over-seeing branch of this shadow government. Now, we're all supposed to believe it was all a sham and a test, and Nikita was a rat. She recommends Michael for termination, and then causes an awesome diversion and breaks him out herself. They've done this before; come at this moment from so many different angles. They've gone AWOL together before, lived a 1,000 fantasy lives together, both in and out of Section. Previously, he had been the one condemning and then saving her. Now it is her turn to measure up to the lie that is the truth and the truth that is a lie. She gives him a transponder scrambler and says this will keep him hidden until he can get out of North America. He can't leave her; he can't walk away from love anymore. He is a man with nothing left to lose; he is finally ready to love and let the rest of the world be damned. He removes her sunglasses and asks her to come with him; she looks him in the eye and tells the lie he has told her before. She tells him she never loved him because it is the only way to save him. He will not leave without her, ever, so she looks into his eyes and breaks his heart. They have come full circle; they have traded places within the machine. She cannot leave. If she leaves he'll never be free, the only way to make sure he will remain free from Section's tentacles is to stay for love's sake and run Section herself. For love's sake, she must tell the truth that is a lie. It is this moment of mullempathy and glory, that I have prepped you for. She lies, and this man who was so emotionless, who was programmed to be a killing machine, he cries. Tears of salt and water are not enough tho'. No, the wound was mortal, and only the BLOOD TEAR will truly convey the level of heartbreak and despair. I shit you not; he takes his knife and cuts himself under the eye and his tears are BLOOD. This is THE most romantic moment that was ever on television.

I have captured this exact moment for you and made it into an animated gif with the help of a 12 pack and @mik_moo. Without further ado and for your edification, the glory that is the BLOOD TEAR.




If it doesn't animate properly (UPDATE: fixed now it does; bless photobucket!), I'll cry because we added some jazzhand sparkles to that shit and everything. Serious slaving over an animated .gif. I heartily thank mik_moo who initially watched this moment with me, and as our jaws dropped and our eyes met, only two words escaped our stunned lips, "BLOOD TEAR." You still can't see the full glory of the mullet. If you were to see it, your monitors would implode. Don't go looking on the Internets either. Such puny pics as exist out there in cyberland make sure to not reveal the full power of the French-Candian spymullet.

Back in the Bleu Lion, and it feeeeeels so goooood. I'm walking away from drama in my life. I'm walking away, and I'm taking my sparkling BLOOD TEAR with me. Adieu. Adieu. To you and you and you!

*Princess Out*

(parts 2 and 3 coming soon)