In high school, I stayed at home quite a lot, avoiding intense social situations where I might be asked to flirt, or be funny. Instead, I watched a boatload of television. You might say I’m the cautionary tale that every modern mom fears (and look! I’m a contributing member of society now!) – I’d watch TV in the morning before school, then again when I came home.
Television was a fourth honorary member of our family, and one I grew to know pretty intimately over my eighteen years under my parents’ roof. But it’s not like my family didn’t spend time together; on Friday nights, my dad picked up a twelve pack of Taco Bell tacos on his way home from work, and when my mom came home, we’d binge watch cable TV movies, classics like The Godfather series, and Star Wars.
That’s how I discovered Sixteen Candles. It was the storyline I hoped to live out in high school, and Jake (the hot senior to Ringwald’s bumbling freshman) became my ultimate handsome prince. All through high school (and even beyond), my mom held out hope that “I’d find my Jake,” my own personal Ken Barbie with looks, talent, and a sparkly personality. “Jake” became the ideal man, my soul mate, my destiny.
The problem is, destiny is a fickle beast.
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