The pineapple is now all gone, which means that I'll have to buy some more today while it's still on sale. So far, no prickly skin or spiky hair seems to have developed, so it appears that I can eat pineapple every day for more than a week without turning into one.
I suppose it's somewhat appropriate that while I've been discussing romantic comedies, I've had a rather devastating development in the romantic comedy that is my nonexistent love life. My Anchorman, the quasi-celebrity crush that has been the longest-lasting relationship I've ever had, is leaving me! He's taking a corporate PR job (probably because he could see the writing on the wall, with the station cutting back and his newscast having very low ratings), and it's pretty difficult to maintain an imaginary one-sided relationship with someone you never see anymore. We'd already been growing apart since he moved from weekends to weekday early mornings, and now I suppose it's time to face reality (the kind of reality that exists in imaginary relationships) and call it off so we can both move on with our lives.
At least I should be able to see his last newscast, as supposedly he'll sign off with the noon news on Christmas Eve, so I can have some closure. If I were a character in a bad romantic comedy movie, that would be my cue for a public and humiliating declaration of love. I'd have to make a frantic cross-town dash, maybe taking the train and persuading the engineer that the course of true love required him to stop at the train station at the TV station, even though that's usually just a weekend and special event stop, and then somehow I'd find a way to throw myself in front of him to tell him how I felt about him before he vanished from my life. But considering that I've never actually met him and our only interaction has been a brief e-mail exchange three years ago, that might come across as creepy and stalkerish and would be more likely to result in a restraining order than in a grand happy ending. The most I'll manage is a mad dash across my parents' house to catch the noon news in time.
Or I could go for the 21st century cyber version of the humiliating public declaration of love and actually name him and his station in my blog as Google bait and hope that he or someone at the station might see it. But, again, kind of creepy and not likely to result in a favorable outcome.
On the upside, he'll still be in town, so there's still an ever-so-slight chance that I might manage to meet him in a somewhat normal way (come to think of it, one of my neighbors works for the company he's going to work for). I just won't be able to get my usual doses of his wit from the safety of my sofa. Sadly, I'd just come up with a plan to maybe get within the vicinity of that station, as one of the books I'm working on involves TV news, and I was going to try contacting that station to see if I could get a brief tour to update me on changes in technology since the days when I worked for their Austin sister station. Not that I expected him to be the one to deal with me, and I suppose if the person who did immediately thought I'd be perfect for him and we had to be introduced, him working elsewhere wouldn't change that. Hmm, now maybe I need to come up with a story idea that involves the industry where he'll be working, because he would be the person to field that info request.
Or I could just transfer my affections to the weekend weather guy, who's kind of cute and very, very smart, aside from the fact that he chases storms for fun.
And in the meantime, I need to brainstorm some title ideas, as it's not a great idea to put a book on submission with "The New Project" as the title.