Pass the Kleenex

As my Facebook status will attest, I just burst into tears at the end of 27 Dresses.

Turns out I'm a girl after all. Who knew?

Despite the fact that I have a hard time accepting little sis's complete 180 from self-centered and shallow to self-aware and wise, it was better than I expected. Hence, you know, the tear-fest.

And while I am not generally a James Marsden fan, JM + scruffy + cynical = tasty.

Oh, and the "favourite part of the wedding" so oft discussed? Is absolutely my favourite part of a wedding as well. I may not have been to 27, but I've been to my fair share, and I have a feeling that the chick who wrote this (because who are we kidding? it was definitely a chick) is a kindred spirit of a sort.

I also have a feeling that further ranting on the subject would cause some retroactive embarrassment tomorrow, so me and my tissues and my red wine are gonna go see if Deadliest Catch is on Discovery and try to regain some level of cynicism composure.

Right.