11:08 PM

In the same way perception is a Genie for us poor unfortunate souls not cast as the lead in a fairy tale—Serendipity is our Fairy Godmother. It's Serendipity Godmother that enriches our lives with experiences of unexpected happiness and good fortune. My Serendipity Godmother, on the other hand, is a total bitch—teasing me with games of catch and release. Just when I'm starting to believe I've caught a little magic in my life, Serenmother cuts the line and slaps me across the face with the hand of reality. Miraculous coincidences and unexplainable magic have never been part of my existence. Given my Godmother's terrible track record, I don't believe they ever will.

I glance down at the jar of salsa in my basket.

Nachos, on the other hand, fill my life with tons of magic and happiness. If truth be told, nachos are my soul mate. When this salsa is properly introduced to a bag of corn chips and shredded cheese, all will be right in the world again. My inner Evil Queen won't be able to conquer my soul at the stroke of midnight if my spirit has been soothed with the greasy security and comfort of cheddar on chips. I. Heart. Nachos—forever.

Speaking of cheese, I believe shredded crack is the next item on my grocery list.  

As I'm passing the florist section on my way to the dairy aisle, I notice a man painstakingly attempting to select the right bouquet of roses for a lucky lady—or guy I suppose. It's this image of a stranger's thoughtfulness for another that slams a knife of dejection through my heart. Why have I never gotten flowers before? 

Ever since I was a little girl, I've always dreamed what it would be like to receive a romantic gesture from a secret admirer, but things like that don't happen to me. No roses. No chocolates. No kittens or puppies with satin bows gently tied around their necks. Instead, Serenmother waves her wand and gives me lonely life struggles that blow me up like a fat pumpkin with a squashed spirit. It's no wonder why flowers have never been sent my way. No man wants to admit he scored with a gourd.

So as a defense mechanism, I'm the woman who pretends flowers are just a stupid waste of money and a gesture that doesn't prove anything. Unlike nachos. Nachos prove I'm woman enough to fiesta alone. That's what they prove. I'm woman enough to fiesta alone—and that, my friends—is how this girl is keeping her positive attitude going tonight.     

*********NACHO BREAK*********

Are flowers the Top Bananas (see what I did there) in the Romantic Gesture Department, or do you think something else owns the top spot? Add YOUR favorite romantic gesture in the comments below. 

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MarilynHepburn.com