The aforementioned ruiner of my dreams is a regular civilian -- well, she's an actress and theater director actually -- which is all the more reason this nuptial news stings me so. Had she been some supermodel or celebrity I'd have been like, "Ok, Jemaine sold out, but he's only getting his due. Hot needs to breed with hot. I understand he could never shag the likes of me. He is out of my league. He is on another level." But no! His everso democratic decision to settle for an average laywoman further strengthens my delusional argument that had he only just met me, he'd surely have fallen in love with me instantly and made me his number one special lady friend!
Now instead of daydreaming about the day we chance to bump into each other on the streets of New York where Jemaine is filming the new season of Flight of the Conchords (it's happening as we speak, people! New season premieres in January!) and subsequently commence a whirlwind romance in the manner of, oh, any number of fantastical rom com-style movies, I will have to spend my waking hours crafting a life-like voo doo doll of his new wife and chanting love charms like I did during my Wicca phase back in '91.
Not that I'm bitter or anything. Far from it! If I was, would I be able to do this?
Mazel tov, Jemaine and Mrs. Jemaine! I wish you every happiness!
(Opposites day, of course!)
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