Red Flags

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I know my red flags.

With men, I can identify them so readily that I should be a match-maker to the stars.  Katie Holmes, honey, I could have called out all those red flags for you and saved you a divorce and career suicide.   No one will ever be able to watch Batman Begins and The Dark Knight in succession and not be completely baffled by your choice to let Maggie Gyllenhaal make out with Christian Bale on your behalf in The Dark Knight.  I blame Tom.  We all blame Tom.  And I blame you for making that film transition so awkward for the good citizens of the world.  You are the reason I will never be able to own the series on Blu-ray and DVD combo pack.

And I am so good and intuitive with my red flags in life that I really try to avoid them except, you know, at work, where I have an obsession with flagging things because each color flag means something distinctly different and helps me stay organized in the chaotic mess I call work.

I used to be able to make my red flags turn into a 'check' mark quite rapidly.  Like Houdini,or that other guy in Vegas... what's he called, what's he called, what's he called.... oh, yes, Criss Angel- the guy with 2 S's in his name (which, coincidentally is a huge red flag for women everywhere).

But lately my red flags won't go away.  I can't get that sharp red hue away from my screen, yelling at me, telling me that I am not quite finished.... not through... read me once more... "I'm stilllllll heeeeerrrrreeee".... Redrum.Redrum.Redrum.

The taunting is too much.

I need to check off some of these flags.  Put them to bed and say something definitive like "Hasta La Vista, Baby".

Moral of the story?: It's possible I watch too many movies.








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