Natasha Regehr

Tag: love

Royal Wedding Recant

True story: I posted my Royal Wedding Rant in the wee hours of the night, and then hastily took it down the next morning, when, in the cold light of day, I realized that I had typified myself as a bitter old woman with no hope – but not before a robust 39 people had had the opportunity to read it and form opinions about my perceived state of ongoing misery.

Therefore I feel I must further unpack my comments, and perhaps qualify them with a few points that, in my state of royal grumpiness, I had overlooked.

First: I stand by my suggestion that perhaps there was a touch too much money poured into this particular matrimonial event. No woman, princess or not, needs a $600,000 wedding dress.  I also feel duly entitled to my opinion that all of the media hoop-la was a little excessive.  But then again, I feel the same way about the idolization of rich and famous people in general.  I simply have no interest in pop culture and its dull derivatives.  I prefer dead baroque musicians.  Call me quirky.

So there we go.  The royal wedding phenomenon, as a newsworthy event, struck me as a rather silly over-investment of time and money, when there are so many more interesting things in the world with which to occupy oneself.  French grammar, for instance.  I truly do get a kick out of French grammar.

Yes, I’ll concede that I’m an anomaly when it comes to entertainment.

But that does not make me a bitter old woman with no hope.  For that, we must address my feelings about weddings, and marriage, in general.  And that is a stickier topic indeed. Continue reading

Royal Wedding Rant

Here is my embarrassing, uncensored rant, in all of its original pathetic-ness.  Please, if you must read it, read my Royal Wedding Recant, too.

I hated the royal wedding.  I hated every minute of it.  I hated the pomp, the false religiosity, the needless expenditures, the manufactured sentimentalism.  I hated the way the swooning public lapped it up, as dished to them by the cooing media. I am dumbfounded that people would camp out for hours for a glimpse of what is really just two human beings signing a perfectly ordinary contract.

What I hated the most were the promises.  Have and hold, love and cherish, blah blah blah… Imperfect human beings simply cannot keep those promises, regardless of their lineage, their celebrity status, or their perceived levels of infatuation with one another.  Do you realize what you’re doing? You are making a solemn vow that you will need to keep for your entire life.  And you won’t be able to do it. Continue reading

C’est l’amour…

What does it feel like to fall out of love? Could it be happening to me?

French is supposed to be the “language of love,” is it not? We had a sweet, sweet honeymoon phase, French and I. Every day we seemed to know each other twice as well as we did the day before. I was blissfully unaware of my relational faux pas, and everyone else just thought they were cute. Every little sentence was a triumph. Every lesson brought new possibilities. And the grammar… Oh, the grammar! What passion we shared, those participles and I. The verb tenses! The day I first learned passé composé, and could finally talk about things that had already happened… Stories started sprouting everywhere!

It’s true, French and I did take a little break at one point. I spent two months sequestered among Anglophones over the summer, but I never stopped longing for the langue de l’amour. I signed out workbooks from the library and continued the relationship in a one-sided, long-distance kind of way. When I returned to the Moroccan Promised Land of language acquisition, I was disappointed to find that both my teachers had deserted me (as if I didn’t already have an abandonment complex). “I miss you! I love you! I want you back!” I wailed into my sorry little unilingual void.

Continue reading

This Reader and Her Romance

This Reader and Her Romance

Do you hate Valentine’s Day? Well here’s a little gem from back in 2010, when I was academically obliged to analyze a case study of a bunch of Harlequin Romance addicts from the 1970s.  Part of the assignment was to read and respond to a romance novel myself, and compare my experience to that of the readers in Janice Radway’s study.  I confess, I had a little fun…

Continue reading

2015 Gratitude List

My dear Canadian friends have had to wait a full six weeks longer than usual to read my annual Gratitude List.  Sorry, guys.  I was in the desert while you were being thankful, so I’ve jumped on the American bandwagon and given thanks today instead.

For those of you who are new to this quirky tradition of mine, here’s the scoop: Every night before I go to sleep, I write down a few causes for gratitude.  I try not to repeat myself (keeps the thankfulness muscles limber!) but I’m certain you’ll notice an emerging theme or two.  Each Thanksgiving, I post the list for the world to ponder and puzzle over.  For me, it’s a grounding practice of putting days and years in perspective.  For you, it’s either funny, or inspiring, or TMI.  Whatever.  It’s not about you.

I suspect that no one but my mom actually reads the list from start to finish, but should you wish to try, godspeed!

Beginning in October, 2014, here is my year, chronicled in thanks!

A hearth, a family, a sharing of lives

A new form of freedom

Eschatological laughter

Acceptance and openness

What I have is enough

Decisions made = settledness. There is security in having chosen.

Fiction fabulousness Continue reading

Two Questions

I asked my dad two questions today, as I stood beside his grave.

I, who walk upon this earth that covers him, have before me an uncertain future (as do we all). I have decisions to make that will steer me upon this earth in any number of unspecified directions, in circles or meandering lines, with a maddeningly undetermined end point.

“What would you say, Dad, if you were still alive? What should I do? How should I choose? What would matter to you?”

Continue reading

© 2024 Cosmic Prose

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑