RE: In My Prologue Era
It has been a little bit over a month since I got this proverbial ball to London rolling. All at once, it seems as if these last four weeks have flown by and passed at an infinitesimally slow pace. There is so much I have to do, and so much I am not quite able to do yet. My non-essential furniture has been listed on Facebook Marketplace, but with a month left in my apartment, it doesn't make sense to begin putting my life into boxes just yet. I've continued looking for a new space in the UK, but most short-term leases start in mid-to-late July, making my late August arrival an unwise choice for any well-meaning landlord.
This weird and somewhat frustrating block of time which allows me to get my ducks in a row, is why prologues exist. If my life were being novelized or made into a movie, I would have decided to move to London within the first few pages. You would have gotten a scene or two outlining my motivations, but then the title card would flash, a catchy song would begin, and a plane flying overhead would be used to transition the audience from sunny Los Angeles to the grey-skied English Capital. I would emerge from the jet bridge bright-eyed and ready to go without one hair out of place or wholly disheveled and weary, depending upon whatever character arc was headed my way.
The thought of being a plucky, doe-eyed romance heroine has always appealed to me. There is a wide range of fictional women whose plot lines I would commandeer in a heartbeat if you told me I could, but my favorite, and maybe that is because the leading lady is not that far off the mark, is Mary Lake from Richard Curtis' About Time. Mary is the archetypical Girl Next Door love interest. She is understatedly confident, rational, and well-intentioned. But what puts her at the top of my personal ranking pyramid, aside from the American–residing–in–the–UK of it all and the fact that she is a reader at a publishing house– a job that sounds so idyllic I am not convinced it is real, let alone one for which a person could get a work visa– is the beautifully cinematic and completely mundane nature of her romance. Not only does the same man sweep her off her feet multiple times, but the audience is privy to the love they share over the following years as they meet each other's families and start their own. Do I want to live her exact narrative? Not entirely. But that is only because, as far as I am aware, men cannot time travel, so I will settle for taking inspiration from her story and many other beloved tales.
During this grand adventure I am embarking on–and hopefully after–I have decided to stop wishing that I will stumble upon the various situations that inspire the many books and films that I love and make them happen myself. If I am going to head up a blog that's primary purpose is to remind women that they are the main characters of their lives, I would be remiss not to practice what I preach. I have decided that from here on out, the genre of my life will be a romantic comedy. It will most likely be a grounded one simply because of the realities of being human that I cannot keep at bay. But moving forward, each of my decisions will be made as if my favorite filmmakers or authors were penning the plot. That restaurant I've always wanted to go to? The reservations are booked. The day trip into the countryside? Planned. The swoon-worthy meet-cute? Consider it manifested.
Occasionally, I am sure I will take direct influence from films like About Time, Notting Hill and Love Actually by visiting the various filming locations or doing my best to recreate the characters' on-screen experiences. But, for the most part, my focus will be on prompting my own story, a romance specific to me, my hopes, dreams and aspirations. Maybe I will find that this means falling even more in love with myself and the woman I have become. Or, possibly, it will turn into something that is not entirely my own anymore, a relationship with another person whose feelings and decisions I don't have control over but who will still influence my feelings and decisions in turn. There is ample opportunity in store for that highly sought-after HEA (or more realistic HFN). But none of us, me included, knows how I will get there.
While we're on the subject of stories, do me a favor and think about what you would do in my shoes. What adventures would you go on? What kind of people would you hope to meet? If you feel so compelled, please let me know what you would have transpire if my move to London was a well-loved book you had just plucked off the shelf. You've read the prologue. What happens next?
<3,
Sydney
